Good noise

How fitting that as the film Babel comes out, in The Guardian today there is an article called 'Quiet Please' which declaims the lack of silence in Britain today.

Of course the Parisians have been complaining about the lack of peace and quiet for far longer than us, a fact that I found out when I worked in Paris for Time Magazine. The Parisians had campaigns against noise and campaigns for good noise, which fascinated me. I interviewed a noise sculptor who had created a noise museum and designed the rehearsal rooms of the Academy of Music, channelling sounds from the street, mixing them with the strains of practice from the rehearsal spaces and using a series of cymbals and giant wind chimes to create a noise art work. This wise man pointed out to me that the only place that is truly silent is the tomb, but that the problem now is that we have ugly noise instead of beautiful noise. Our homes are filled with plastic, which does not resonate. Our streets are filled with the nasty grey rumble of vehicles. Sirens, mobile phones, helicopters, and unwanted music from other peoples stereos all combine to create a crazed ambience. In Paris they had sound deflectors lining the Boulevard Peripherique (the Parisian version of the M25), and I think a lot could be learnt from their example. Defra take note.

The film, Babel, by the way, is a horrifying film about misunderstandings between nations, exacerbated by extreme noise. I do recommend that you take a tranquilliser with you for afterwards. Meanwhile, I am going to carry on attempting to bask in lovely golden inner silence for at least five minutes a day. And much as I enjoy the thick swearing from the Irish lady next door every time the people below leave their television on, I think I'll get some double glazing.

an easy way to solve climate change

I was going to post this on Sunday, when I thought of it, but I was busy doing nothing!

In as little as ten years according to some estimates, London could be submerged under 200 foot of water. Not to mention poor old Bangladesh!

It's a pretty intimidating challenge, but at a time like this above all have faith. Do not worry about this.

One solution that has been overlooked because it is perhaps not as sexy as say, driving a Prius, or eating organic food, is one that the Orthodox Jews could tell us all about: Respecting the Sabbath. If we all rested on the seventh day it would give the earth time to regenerate. Just switch off your machines, stop running around like a mad thing and chill out. Spend the time sleeping, talking to friends, praying (which is simply talking to the ultimate Friend) sitting in silence, or going for a nice long walk. Revel in quietness. On no account use the time to catch up on work or go shopping. You'll feel better for it and so will the planet.

The highly respected editor of Resurgence Magazine, Satish Kumar, first proposed widespread observance of a day of rest and This is genius. Nothing would be easier to do than to do nothing once a week, and if we all did nothing it would make an extraordinary difference to our planet, not to mention the sanity of mankind.

The green movement seems to have got mixed up with voices crying in the desert saying 'Become carbon neutral or be damned!' I think it's a slightly deranged and unhelpful message. Why not suggest something achievable: Try taking a day of rest for the planet.

For an account of the Orthodox Jewish observance of the Sabbath, you could read the superlative novel Disobedience by Naomi Alderman. Not that I'm suggesting we all go as far as the Orthodox Jews (Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath, after all) but it's a fantastic novel and you would enjoy it anyway. I trust that any Jewish readers will feel free to comment on my somewhat ignorant understanding of Sabbath observance.

Ads

The art of Abundance has decided to allow ads. A girl's gotta eat, after all. Hope they don't intrude on your enjoyment of the site.

Elemis spa

http://www.elemis.com/dayspa.html

This glorious spa does amazing treatments and is probably the best spa in London. I should know, I've tried most of them for my work. I thought you might like to know that they are doing a special offer of their wonderful Rasul for two people for £60. You sit under a twinkly star in a beautiful oriental style hammam and plaster each other with mud. Great fun and £30 each is not bad for a spa treatment. There's also Ironmonger Row baths but it's just not the same.

bearing fruit

Recalling summer

Alice sent me this wonderful poem about summer:

Mint

I am chopping up the last mint of summer.
It’s a ritual goodbye –
goes with sandals, bare legs, shorts and suntan lotion,
alfresco dinners and the candles burning
to a waxen stump
among the garden leaves.
Last mint on my fingers now,
the scent of it pushed through my hair
when I lift my hand
from a finishing touch to dinner.
Last ritual in a ritual,
and everything I’ve ever learned
seems to return
to the comfort and confines of cycles such as these –
how I am balanced on the last, sharp edges
of this pepper scent which I want to be everywhere,
holding it close
with every intensity I shall ever have,
and how I forget it, in the snow-filled silence
of my three-month-hence garden,
so I wonder to myself
Did I ever eat mint? Did I ever crush it on the circle
of this wide blue plate? Did I ever crave a summer,
long and green and full of this?
The mystery is
what we do with loves even as small as this –
how we learn to live with them,
how we learn to forget.

(R Seatter)

Light Pollution

http://www.cpre.org.uk/campaigns/landscape/light-pollution

I know there are some really pressing issues in the world, like the divide between rich and poor, world peace and melting ice caps, but couldn't we just see switch off some lights so that we can see the stars again? If everyone could see the stars, then it might help all the other issues. For a start we'd all get the decent nights' sleep that we need to stop us getting nasty illnesses like breast cancer, sleep deprivation insanity and grumpiness. And we would be stilled by a sense of peace and wonder, which has to be a good thing. We just need to get some plastic masks fitted on the street lamps.

By the way Madeleine Peyroux's 'A Little Bit">is my favourite song at the moment.

The other thing you need to know on this quiet January night is that Pumpkin pizza is God's Own Food. I made my darling son wait an hour for his supper while I made it, but it turned out to be worth the wait. You will find it on p82 of ">Apples of Jam by Tessa Kiros. By the way, said book is the best recipe book I have ever read. It's less a recipe book, more a manual of idyllic childhood.

Rose Unwrapped

Biogreen Peach yoghurt drink

Smoothies are proof that the world is getting better. When I was a child they didn't exist, now every newsagent stocks them. Anyway, sometimes you cannot judge a smoothie by its cover. Biogreen are the most surprisingly delicious smoothies, despite being in horrible white plastic bottles. One day they'll rebrand and the company will be floated on the stockmarket. In the meantime do try them.

The night train from Paris to Florence

Plotting my summer holiday is proving as good as prozac for keeping spirits buoyant. It's the first real family holiday that my son and I will have together and I think it's really important to have a great, epic holiday. 3 weeks is about the right length. More than that and you get bored. Less than that and the brain doesn't have time to unfold, soak up the sunshine and expand itself.

This year we are hoping to stay in a cottage in Tuscany, hopefully joined by family and friends. I want to take the night train from Paris. That is proper travelling - a delicious gentle voyage. It's not like the screaming sleeper that runs from London to Aberdeen, where you wake up every time they cream round a corner. You wake up in Florence with Brunelleschi's Duomo glinting sublimely from behind tenement flats.

Of course, I should be finding the sunshine within. 'Here is where the birds sing, here is where the sun shines' (c.f. Room with a View). What I am really thinking of when I fantasize about a summer holiday is heaven, and the holiday will never quite live up to my high expectations. In truth, heaven is just next door; a glittering, joyous party being held very near, in a separate reality.

winter sun

There are two ways to cope with January blues: The first is to book a holiday to South Africa and soak up some lovely sunny rays. I did this when I was pregnant with my son and it worked a treat. A bumpy ride

This year I'm rather uncomfortable with the idea. Partly because of the threat of impending global warming floods, partly an allergic reaction to the drear of airport travelling, but ultimately a sense that there is something too extreme about being plunged into summer when your body seriously believes it should be slowing down for long winter nights, I just think it wouldn't be right to book a winter sun holiday.

But how to get through the dreariness of January?

Well, firstly study ">Roast Figs and Sugar Snow by Diana Henry. It is a culinary celebration of all things cold and wintry and I defy you to want a January summer after reading it. If the dark days are getting you down you could also get one of the lumie lamp range These clever lamps wake you up with a bright light that slowly comes on in the morning to simulate the sunrise. At night it slowly fades when you switch the alarm on which is a very cosy way to go to sleep. Even more effective are their desktop lamps. This year I'm going to enjoy the cold slow stillness of January and spend the time dreaming of my long summer holiday on an organic farm in Tuscany, and if none of that works I shall learn to tango.