Recently Discovered: a List

- That I quite like cooking

- That every single episode of Matlock is available on YouTube

- Maple syrup on things that aren’t pancakes (thank you ALEC, who is from VERMONT, and thus a Maple syrup guru)

- New growth on a plant I was [throw-a-funeral-for-it] certain, was dead!

- That the gray pattern on my hairline is exactly the same as my Dad’s

- That I need [new] glasses

- The sun pouring through the living rooms windows onto the sofa, in a particular spot in between 5 and 8 pm that Tati luxuriates in (she is the ultimate sun-worshipper) that fills our home with light and warmth and hope! this brings me much joy.

- That being “in my prime” also means I am HURTLING toward middle age and you know what? I’m totally okay with it.

"Spectacular" Accidents I have had: a List

the broken finger.

- age four, I was on a scooter at pre-school, and accidentally ran the scooter over a rogue piece of chain and landed on my face

- age five, on stage during a camp theatre performance of “Heaven Hop.” A Jealous older girl tripped me during the tap break. I fell flat on my face, the audience gasped, I got right back up and kept tapping. PRO! (There is video.)

- age sixteen, an innocent scratch turned into a corneal ulcer in my right eye at summer camp. Almost lost the eye. I didn’t.

- age seventeen. The worst wisdom tooth surgery you’ve ever imagined. Imagine something bad: then triple it. That was me. 

Nothing to see here. Literally.

- age twenty-four. I had an allergic reaction to *something* I cannot possibly detect, but it was epic. It made the right side of my face explode and we had to cancel two shows of Fiddler (in London)because we didn't have enough understudies. In short: My face healed. We got more understudies.

- age twenty-seven, I smashed the bones in the middle finger of my left hand with a 15-lb hand weight. It instantly turned black. 

- age thirty, I...left the bathtub running, and the water flooded literally my entire apartment. Mom was here and announced chirpily "Well, FLOOR'S CLEAN!" Claaaaassic #MamaSilbs.

- age thirty-two — thirty-six where do I even begin with accidents/injuries/mayhem regarding my Ulcerative Colitis? I won’t bother to but suffice it to say it began as not hilarious and is now, ALL, quite hilarious.  


- age thirty-five. I ...fell off of a motorized bicycle and landed on my face. [*Pause for sound FX*] 
     Let me explain. My big brother Jordan? He has the charisma of a CULT LEADER, and because of this special skill, he has the magical ability to convince me (and others!) to do things they maaaaayyyyybe should ask a few follow-up questions about, without asking even a single follow-up question. 

JUST before!

     Jordan made BIKING on a slightly-too-large motorized bike to and from a restaurant in Corte Madera, California, sound like the best idea EVER. And the biking back home in the dark on a path with no streetlights? AMAZING IDEA! It started off brilliantly, but then I miscalculated a turn whilst also miscalculating a HILL (thanks, Northern California), and I flipped off the bike (at a zillion miles per hour) and broke my fall with? MY FACE. 
     I still bear the scars. 

AFTER! OMFG!

     As a hilarious epilogue? Probably 12 police officers and medics came to my aid that night. (Possibly the entire Corte Madera police department? Unsure.) They were so nice to me. In awe of my sense of humor at the situation and didn't pester me when I declined to go to the hospital. A few minutes in, "Officer Scott's" radio blares: there's been a noise complaint in the district. There is a barking dog that "needs attending to." Officer Scott went to go take care of it. Before Officer Scott left I said (my face melting off and bleeding) "So what you're saying, boys, is that on this Saturday night in Corte Madera, the main action is ME... and a barking dog?" 
     The entire department called me on speakerphone the following day to "check-in." 
     All this to say: Thanks, Corte Madera Police and Medic dudes! You didn't shame me for being a total idiot, and I don't think anyone has ever cared more about my well being than my own mom. I hope the situation with the dog turned out okay. 

- age thirty-six, a beetle flew into my face in a subdivision and, in slapping it off my face in horror, I obliterated the mailbox of a local woman. I apologized (of course, of course, I’m not a monster). Paid for a new mailbox. Got her tickets to the play. 

JB: appalled at me.

Hopeful Things: a List

• Blank canvases
• Blank Pages
• Seed packets
• New plants
• Train tickets
• Future dreams
• The sight of a surprise parcel waiting outside your door
• Rolls of film
• Collaborations with gifted and respected artistic colleagues
• New (beautiful) pens
• Helping my neighbors
• Making a new friend
• Smiling at a stranger
• A freshly made bed
• New blank notebooks
• The thought of a small child named Volodia, documenting a 1924 Soviet Leningrad with an unwieldy large format camera
• The first of the month
• 15 minutes just before dawn
• Learning a new word
• Seeing the world through the eyes of my nieces

my new plants: bringing the outside, in