Friday, December 21, 2007
Two more people moved into the house. Boxes of Christmas decorations were carried up from the basement and stacked in the kitchen waiting for a day warm enough to buy a Christmas tree. There was a lot of laughter and goings-on in the kitchen. Zena became curious and finally ventured upstairs, climbed up on top of the Christmas boxes, and made herself quite comfortable on top of the Christmas stockings. She was there every day, going to The Basement only for her litter needs and sometimes to eat in privacy.
So, why all this about Zena? It makes me think about how easy it is for me to become detached, comfortable in my singularity, not reaching out. And then how quickly I can respond to a laugh, a surprise, a little bit of giving. Now that the ice has melted, the extra people are gone and the Christmas decorations are on the tree, I wonder if Zena will go back to The Basement. I don't think I will.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
You always read about people coming together in times of crisis, and they do. Hearts get bigger and more open. Things ignored and taken for granted rise to the top of the list. Beauty continues and in every sense is even more important. In the midst of trees falling with a sound like gunshots, there's that red berry encased in ice that makes you pause and notice it. People create order out of their mayhem. In the sadness of losing those big tree limbs, there's a tiny bit of comfort to making them small and manageable. Fallen trees line the streets, cut and stacked so neatly.
And today the sun shines.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
I took the enneagram test yesterday at my daughter's suggestion and I was surprised at how hard it was to answer some of the questions. They want you to answer according to how you have behaved historically -- I think part of the difficulty comes from having lived this long -- I've been through so many phases or changes, it's hard to think about some of them. It's an interesting process, though. The test is $10 and takes about 30 minutes.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
I still like that quote (previous entry) though and still think it's pertinent.
Friday, November 30, 2007
This project was inspired by an essay by Patti Digh - - and an invitation for artists to create cards for possible use in an upcoming book of her essays.
It's one thing to do a greeting card or an envelope for a friend, but this sort of thing had me undone. Especially when I looked at the cards that others were creating and actually posting (!) ahead of time. My first thought was "I am so out of my league." But, you know what? I continued and just submitting something felt good. Here are three attempts -- there were more but they never made prime time.
The quote that kept me going actually came from Patti's blog too:
"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel only. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open..." -Martha Graham
I want to read that everyday.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
So much for this. I just want to get past this alphabet thing.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
In this Thanksgiving week, I will definitely count my blessings. More and more, I'm aware of the magic in my life. It's good to have the time to actually breathe it in.
Here's to a bountiful Thanksgiving week.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Tom's daughter (another S -- Shannon) chose that location for her wedding and it was a beautiful spot for a wedding. Romantic and photogenic. I've been working on a project to commemorate the day. Here's a piece of it --
The funny thing is this page has a lot of depth to it up close. There are effects that I will never be able to duplicate, even if I want to. The reason being that this page was born of mistakes, one after another. It was repainted, blotted, swabbed, washed, fanned, cursed and then given one more chance.
I think there's a lesson in that.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
In many ways, I wish a revival was still part of my summer routine. Not the church variety, but a revival of the spirit -- the concentration or focus of the spiritual self in a designated period of time. We all want to live fully but sometimes I think we just don't know how. That knowledge of how to live our lives lies deep within us -- I know it does -- the trick is somehow to release it -- or simply find it.
I think it may take a revival.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
There is a difference though, between silence and quiet. Sometimes I can be silent but I'm not quiet on the inside. Maybe my silence is an attempt to quiet my mind. I have to be careful sometimes not to get lost in my own thoughts and my own world, my own observations. Unlike some, I observe a lot but don't necessarily narrate what I see. There are times, of course, I'd like to be more narrative in the present. Maybe my hesitance stems from feeling like my take on things is always just a little "off" from the mainstream.
A quote I've always liked is:
The best way to find out things, if you come to think of it, is not to ask questions at all. If you fire off a question, it is like firing off a gun; bang it goes and everything takes flight and runs for shelter. But if you sit still and pretend not to be looking, all the little facts will come and peck round your feet, situations will venture forth from thickets and intentions will creep out and sun themselves on a stone. . . .from The Flame Trees of Thika by Elizabeth Huxley
I know there's a time for questions and a time for noise. I know you don't always get the answers you want just by sitting there. But there's just something about that quote that I like. Something about when the time is right, it all comes together.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Then I started reading about counterpoint and my mind started spinning.
Chou Wen-chung describes it as "the play between deliberateness and swiftness, and the constant expansion and contraction in the relationship between ink and space." I have always thought the phrase "disciplined freedom" said it all but, wow, this guy takes it several steps further. You have basic strokes as a principal tone, then the initial caps are the auxiliary tones; boom, a flourish and you have operatic vocals.
Rise and fall, sparse and dense, delicate and stressed, straight and slanted, thick and attenuated, vertical and horizontal. It is all rhythm and movement.
I just thought I knew about counterpoint.
Friday, September 21, 2007
I'm bending, I'm bending, I'm bending . . .
Friday, September 7, 2007
I've been busy my entire life but never thought of myself as a workaholic. I wasn't "working," I was just doing. However, as I read the meditations from Women Who Do Too Much, some of it really hits home. Sometimes I blame it on my mother, who would holler at me when I was a teenager sunbathing --"Don't you have anything to do?" I've grown up to love multi-tasking and find myself getting better (or worse) at it the older I get. It just seems so efficient.
But there comes a time when I long to do nothing. I have a hard time giving myself permission for that. Doing nothing is difficult enough; doing nothing without feeling guilty is even harder.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
So, how accurate and reliable is our memory? I've never put myself out there as having a stellar memory, whereas my sister touts that as one of her strengths. Many times she's right, but there are also times she absolutely is not. I know I've read that there is no significant correlation between the feeling of certainty that a person has and the accuracy of the memory. That, of course, has no significance in a family discussion because memories are so subjective. I think memories get dreamier or darker as time passes, depending on the mood and how we want to remember it. My sister's memories of her childhood are just that -- her childhood. My childhood was different and my memories are different. I know this, but in the middle of an "I remember . . ." discussion, it still hurt me to not be included in her memories of events that were so rich in my memory. Maybe it stung so much because at this point, we are all that remain of our family and for me to be excluded in that way made our lives seem disconnected when right now she's the only connection I have to family.
This is one of those over-analytic posts that serves as a brain dump and is not intended to serve any purpose.
Friday, August 31, 2007
I believe the old saying "You make your own luck" is true to some extent. We make choices about things we do and the reactions we have to the outcome. Being lucky or feeling lucky is being open to things that get in your way -- it's a positive attitude, the proverbial lemonade experience. And I believe expecting good things makes good things happen. I have good hunches and good intuition. Sometimes I don't listen to it, but it's there and if I can get out of my head and pay attention to my gut, I'd probably be better off.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I read recently that if you take a few minutes a day and think about things you love -- special people, the smell of fresh laundry, new rain, autumn leaves -- anything -- and while you're meditating on this list, hold your left index finger with your right fingers, grasp it, if you will. This connection can be used later, when you feel stressed. Just grasp your finger in the same way and those pleasant thoughts will tumble in.
The next time I find myself not getting a kick out of the little things in life, I think I will try it.
I got out my calculator and figured that I spend 60% of every 24 hours sleeping and working. Those aren't options. That leaves me 9.6 hours a day for creative outlets such as calligraphy and books, exercise, cooking and eating, social interaction, self care, shopping and miscellaneous. That doesn't count down time, which I also require.
I wish I hadn't done that. I think it's stressed me out now.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
The six weeks during which I recovered was one of the most peaceful times of my life. I had to recognize that there was nothing I could do to correct things. I gave up control. I put aside vanity. I still remember how peaceful I was during that time. That acceptance is still present when something happens and I start to question why. It's a constant reminder that we are not in charge -- no matter how much we want to be or think we are.
I remember the day of the accident laying in bed and praying "If there's something I'm supposed to get out of this, don't let me miss it." I hope I got the point.
These photos are from the day of accident and 2 days after surgery, about a month later. It still gives me chills to look at these.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
The idea of "enough" came to me through Sue Bender's book, Everyday Sacred. I was confronted with that book several times during one weekend in which that I had escaped and was trying to regroup and figure out what was going on with me. The book kept presenting itself until finally I bought it. I didn't begin to read it until I was on the flight home. The first chapter I read (and it wasn't the first chapter in the book) was about a religious tradition where a monk sets out with his empty begging bowl. The offering of food is placed it in and he accepts gratefully. The offering gives him strength to do his work. In return, he gives guidance and wisdom. The question was asked, "What does he do when he's feeling deluged?" The answer was simple. "He puts the bowl away. If he ate all the time there would be no time to digest." It was definitely an "aha" moment.
I know that sometimes I don't allow myself time to digest. I don't take time at the moment to process all that I'm experiencing or doing. But I've learned it always catches up with me and eventually I will have to say "enough."
Friday, August 17, 2007
D could be for diet. Not in the sense of "dieting" but in terms of what you put into your system. For me, it won't be dairy.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Somewhere along the line I started making books. I don't remember what interested me in it -- the paper, the process, a class -- any or all of those probably. Making books has turned into a sometime hobby, a craft, sometimes an art for me. It's a perfect combination of left and right brain. Handmade books are so tactile, so precise, so manipulated and yet allow so much room for expression. Like so many crafts, books are made and then given away, but I have photographed a few before giving them. Below is a photoloop of a few books I've made, plus a favorite picture of Lucy "reading" a book. I love how serious she is with that book and that it's upside down.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
With things like this, I"m often tempted to wait until the first day of a month but this time, rather than wait, I'm going to start tomorrow. Not only will it force me to think of something to write everyday, it'll be fun to see where it takes me. I would love it if others jumped in as well.
As our friend Dr. Seuss writes:
My alphabet starts with this letter called yuzz. It's the letter I use to spell yuzz-a-ma-tuzz. You'll be sort of surprised what there is to be found once you go beyond 'Z' and start poking around!
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Thursday, August 2, 2007
My reaction to the first call from her ex-husband was denial. I told him I didn't need to see her. Something about the way he presented the situation seemed to minimize it in my mind. I was asleep when he called, which I blame on part of it; he talked about the other times she'd been on hospice and he didn't know if this time was different; he didn't make it seem urgent. I knew I was at peace with my relationship with her. I had talked to her just last week. The next day I talked to my niece who lives there with her (with full-time caregivers) and she gave me the specifics. She made it seem urgent. She made it seem real. There was no decision but to go. Today I have been flooded with memories, with regrets, with sorrow, with love.
It's gets more complicated. My sister gave a child up for adoption 23 years ago. Her request now, before she dies, is to see that child. Her nurse thinks it's why she's hanging on.
It's eerie that the reason I called my sister last week was that the daughter she gave up had contacted me and wanted to meet her. It's almost as if she knew it was time. She's now making plans to go to Las Vegas.
There's something about a mother and her offspring. I read something this morning that is so poignant to this day: "A mother never outgrows the burden of love, and to the end she carries the weight of hope for those she bore." And this, "for she is impelled to know that the seeds of value sown in her have been winnowed."
So, this weekend, I'm hoping a young woman will meet her birth mother, albeit on her death bed. May they both find peace. She will also meet a family she has never known. And the children who have cared for their mother all these years will meet a sister they only recently found out about.
I tend to keep my feelings in an inner room, sometimes I shove them in there and keep the door closed. Today, I've had to open the door and let them out. There are too many to contain.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
I am INTJ. When I read the description of my personality, and thought about me now and me of years ago, I remembered being 6 years old and my Sunday School teacher telling my mom, "Connie's hard to get to know." I didn't understand what she meant. I remember thinking, "She hasn't asked me anything. If she'd ask me about something, I'd tell her." So as a child, I reacted the way I would probably react now, except now I might worry about what her response to me meant, and think maybe I should try harder to be easier to know.
I think taking a test like this validates who you are in your own sense of self and makes us more accepting of who we are. It's like when my description says "INTJs are perfectionists, with a seemingly endless capacity for improving upon anything that takes their interest" then I relax a little with who I am in that regard, and accept who I am a little bit more. And yes, there are times I really wish I could be one of those other groups of initials -- maybe be more expressive with my feelings, but then I start to analyze it and, well you can figure out the rest.
I find it absolutely fascinating that answering just 72 seemingly random questions can tell you this much about who you are. Carl must have been a genius, coming up with this.
Friday, July 27, 2007
I wish I had those guts sometimes and could give up the inhibitions that keep me from flailing my arms and really moving to the music. Every now and then it happens and it feels so good. Where does that self-consciousness come from? Upbringing and culture play a big role. Growing up Baptist plays a role. Other possible reasons? Not having dance lessons as a child? No rhythm?
Some people can't dance and they don't care. They just like to move. Damn that perfection streak I was cursed with!
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
I’m the first born in our family and sometimes I hate it that I feel so responsible. My sister is very different. Her coping mechanisms are different and her needs are different. Lately, I have to keep reminding myself to relate to her in her present life and understand her current needs instead of relating to her as my little sister and feeling like I’m somehow responsible for what she does. Old roles are hard to dislodge, I guess.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The question now is do I have another 8 hours to devote to writing the next line???
Sunday, July 8, 2007
And speaking of happy and carefree, yesterday I watched Sam and Henry jump off the side of a boat, over and over, proud of the biggest splash, never getting enough. Water skiing was a piece o' cake for them. An exhibition of exhilarated freedom with dance moves, hand signals and what I imagine to be a feeling of power that comes with knowing the secret language of communicating with the boatmeister. What they didn't know was they were creating big memories for me and for them. It was a perfect summer day and if I could've whistled, I probably would have done so all the way home.
Monday, July 2, 2007
A couple of things. One, Reggie keeps saying practice with good materials, good paper, good ink. I'm discovering that it's almost as important to practice with good words, good thoughts, good quotes. Because you're writing so slowly, the words and intent of the words become part of you without you really knowing it. Two, it goes without saying that good music effects the practice. My music for this entire course has been Joshua Bell, Romance of the Violin. I start that music and my body just relaxes. I even think my cat likes it:) and misses it when I don't practice.
I'll confess. I had my practice sheet scanned to insert here, but when it was enlarged, I didn't like the way it looked. It looks okay small (2mm letters) but not good enough to enlarge. Maybe later:)
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
We're going to Seattle this week for my nephew's graduation and I've been looking for a good book to take for the plane ride. Yesterday I saw that Oprah, bless her heart, has selected "Middlesex" as her book du jour. This is a book I've had for some time now but haven't read, so once again, Oprah to the rescue. If Oprah loves it, I'm sure I will too.
ADDENDUM: I ended up not reading Middlesex, but read Kite Runner instead. Very powerful book. Highly recommend it.
Friday, June 8, 2007
I promise myself ---
To be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind.
To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person I meet.
To make all my friends feel that there is something worthwhile in them.
To look at the sunny side of everything and make my optimism come true.
To think only of the best, to work only for the best and to expect only the best.
To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as I am about my own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
To wear a cheerful expression at all times and give a smile to every living creature I meet.
To give so much time to improving myself that I have no time to criticize others.
To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
To think well of myself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words, but in great deeds.
To live in the faith that the whole world is on my side, so long as I am true to the best that is in me.
-Christian D. Larson
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Nature is so amazing. Just like clockwork, every June 1 my lily opens. This is a plant I received 4 years ago when I had my big fall. I planted it in the garden afterwards, hoping it would bloom the next year. The lady at the plant store told me, even though the flower is associated with Easter, I should not expect it to bloom before June 1. And, as if on cue, June 1 it opens up. Every year, the trumpets bulge and look like they want to open a week or two early. I always think they will. But every year, June 1, the trumpets open and announce that summer is coming. What a glorious announcement.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
The instructor definitely knew what he was doing but, I'm sorry, his approach left me a little dazed. He could just as easily been a Vitamix salesman at the state fair. He had a little suitcase open on a stool next to him with his "props" -- incense or something that looked like a joint that he kept lighting, feathers dangling from the inside of the suitcase, a small bottle of "forgiveness" that he took out like he was inhaling it, and a white board that he would write on then explain, as he erased it, that our mind could become just like this empty white board. The didgeridoo was like the eraser and all we had to do was blow into the didgeridoo, and self-empowerment would be ours. He had pulled down a projection screen that he kept pointing to behind him and saying that's what we wanted our mind to be. That's the point of self-empowerment.
It wasn't that I disagreed with the concept. I'm all for a blank mind, increased oxygenation, relaxed breathing, the clarity that meditation can bring, and so forth. I just couldn't buy into his approach. There's just something wrong about selling self-empowerment and peace of mind like it's a big juicer.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
"Well there's Moe on my left and Mary on my right,
And Janie is the girl well that I'll be with tonight,
And when she ask me which one I love the best,
I tear open my shirt and I show Rosie on my chest,
'Cause I'm a wanderer, yeah I'm a wanderer
I roam around around around around hmmm"
It's so silly but I've thought about that interview a lot. The songs of the 50s and 60s were so mindless that I never gave much credence to them having thought going into them. And yet as simple as they were, they stirred real emotions in me as a teenager. They made me cry and they made me happy. They were so much fun to sing along with. It was easy to know all the words -- even if they didn't make sense.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
There are plenty of things I haven't tried. Does that mean it's outside my comfort zone or that it doesn't interest me? See how complicated this can get.
I think I'll start by just noticing my habits and altering one or two and see what happens. I'll do something--anything—-differently and see what happens. I know by changing one thing, then something else will change, and voila. It's the proverbial domino effect. New thinking. New ideas. New creativity.
One thing I'll try: embracing failure and rejection. That's really out of my "zone."
Monday, May 14, 2007
What I hope my daughter learned from me is that love is unconditional. That fresh flowers can do more for the soul than the room. That sometimes you don't have to say anything. That you can make huge mistakes and still recover. That sometimes you learn more from a bad example than a good one.
I may not be the perfect mother, but glory be, what I do know is I have the perfect daughter:)
Friday, May 11, 2007
Finally, I've completed a May creation. Interesting process. I randomly selected a magazine (which happened to be Better Homes and Gardens, November 2005)and composed a mosaic of colors & patterns that I cut out of it. Then I took phrases from the same mag to write a paragraph that complemented the feel of the mosaic. No title to it yet, but a worthy project. I like the result. (If you click on the picture, you can read the text.)
Thursday, May 10, 2007
I close my eyes when I brush my teeth. Is that common or is that strange? I don't know.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
1. I got out of the car at the grocery store just as it started to rain. The young man who carries groceries out appeared out of nowhere with an umbrella.
2. At the gym, I'd been on the elliptical for 28 minutes when someone I had never seen walks up with a styrofoam cup of cold water for me.
3. Checking out at Sam's with only one item, the lady in front of me said "Why don't you go first."
4. My neighbor gave me some plants she bought and didn't use.
5. It was trash day and pouring down rain. After the trash pickup, someone brought my trashcans up under the tree so they wouldn't blow away and fill up with rain.
That kind of stuff is contagious. It always makes me more aware of doing things like that. Like today, I had picked up a cool poster (free) at the Farmer's Market and after I'd left the market, a young woman asked where I got it. I told her, then I gave it to her. Her face just lit up. It's the simple things. Gotta remember that.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
The first things that came to mind were:
- People who think Spandex is a right (obviously spurred by a recent trip to Target)
Second martinis (no explanation needed)
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
I hate hearing people say "I'm not creative." I can say "I'm creative" and feel okay about it, but just this morning I looked at an application for joining an artist coalition to support it, and one of the boxes to check was "I am an artist" -- and I paused. I didn't know whether I should check it. Crazy. What did they mean by artist? Is it your job? do you sell? We're all artists is what I always say, and yet I couldn't check the box for some reason. I know that as innate as our desire is for self expression, we censor ourselves and judge ourselves way too much. I am so guilty.
Friday, April 27, 2007
I don't think we realize when we're living a young life that we're creating memories and experiences for later on. That we need to savor the now. We're so intent on getting past the present that sometimes we don't acknowledge it, let alone enjoy it. And it's not even just when we're young. It's now, it's still. It's hard to be in the moment without thinking about what comes next. We're always looking ahead. Sometimes it's called planning, sometimes dreaming.
So, at what point does it become more fun to look backwards than forward?
Thursday, April 26, 2007
The French Toast Girl posted a challenge on her blog to commit to create something every day in the month of May. I'm thinking about it. Her rules: they can be tiny. Or crap. Collages. Photos. Writings. Anything you want -- the idea being that life functions better when you create s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g.
I know that waking each day knowing I'm going to create something changes the quality of my day. It's something about the intention. So, creating makes for a better day. Still, I postpone, procrastinate, diddle. Something about being human.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
A search on dream symbols said that cars are symbols of our bodies--the vehicles which our spiritual selves use as a means of experiencing physical reality. Dreams of cars, or most precisely, dreams of what is going on with the cars are symbols of how our psyche feels about what it is experiencing in waking life. All this makes sense to me because I've felt out of sync lately; I'm not satisfied with my work structure; I'm needing more time for me. I've been in a strange space. I've felt lost.
At least the car hasn't crashed and the brakes work.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Diana Stetson, who is always a favorite for me. One of her pieces had this delicious quote: "Find yourself a cup of tea. The teapot is behind you. Now tell me about hundreds of things." Her work is such a peaceful combination of words, elements, color.
Then there was Andrew Carson. He had to be ecstatic that the wind was helping him show off his kinetic sculptures. So whimsical, so delightful. Everyone walked away with a smile on their face, wishing they had the nerve or the cash to buy one.
The piece I wanted most to buy but didn't was the cast bronze piece that looked like origami unfolding. You really had to touch it to believe it wasn't paper. Who was this masked artist? I have no idea who the artist is. So sad.
Another standout for me was an artist from Abiqui, NM who used the metal from old automobiles for the frames of his photographs. The photographs were pictures of the earth or nature that mirrored the patina of the frame surrounding it. No manipulation of color, just art, a sense of the purist.
Paper Expressions was such an unremarkable name for the most remarkable art created by artists Hetty and Norman Metzger. They create this incredible texture and color with hundreds of tiny folded boxes that absolutely mesmerize the eye. A visual feast.
A few art web sites I picked up from business cards --
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
I learned to sew when I was 10 or 12. My mother taught me. I remember she would use case knives instead of straight pins to hold the pattern down when she was cutting things out. It never occurred to me that not everyone did that. When I think back, I realize that sewing was one of the first ways I learned to express my individuality and creativity. Like the white sailor dress with miles of red rickrack every size imaginable. I loved that dress.
Sewing taught me to think in the abstract. I learned to solve puzzles, to solve problems. I learned to appreciate details, the importance of completing a project, and the disappointment when it wasn’t as I expected it would be. Like the black broadcloth straight skirt with the perfect zipper – except that it was inside out.
Fabrics fulfilled a need for color, patterns and texture, and were much like paper is to me now. Fabrics provided a memory of the past and gave life to visions. Though I don’t sew any more, I think learning to look at things in terms of how to construct it and how to change it to make it my own, is part of just about everything I do now.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I'm in the middle of learning Roman letters using a broad-edge pen and then using a pencil to actually draw the letters; I'm learning to see what a difference a pencil point width can make in a shape; how little it takes to create elegance or lose it. These slight variations, these little changes should become part of our everyday life. Sometimes I think we get in the trap of thinking that change has to be dramatic to make a difference or be worthwhile. We think we have to run a marathon when walking 10 minutes might be enough. Well, maybe 30:)
I love the idea that small changes can make big differences. It makes it all so attainable. It's just about noticing, about being aware. Sensitizing eye, heart and mind.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
An old post from a previous comment section of Due South blog (6 months old) that I didn't want to lose. Ten things that happened this week -- or the week of October 31, as it was. I still think this is a great way to think about your week.
1. Halloween came and went with no tricksters and a minimum of treaters. The best costume was the lady bug, a red tulle dress with big black dots, black ballet slippers and gauzy filigree wings that magically came out her pink ski parka.
2. I went to a 60th birthday dinner party for a golf buddy of Tom’s. About 40 people were there. Somehow during the evening, the conversation turned to how many times you’d been in jail, to which one man who loved his red wine, admitted to being in jail 6 times. His wife dropped her jaw, arched one brow, jerked her head and said “Out. We need to smoke and talk.”
3. I cooked some halibut that a friend caught in Alaska. Served it with a Romesco sauce and kalamata olive/parsley relish. I felt like Emeril. Bam!
4. On my morning walk in the neighborhood (before daybreak), I saw a young fox on the Jewish playground going under the fence. I guess he was going back to his “nest” which must mean he too lives in the neighborhood.
5. On Wednesday night, during a discussion at church about Raymond Carver’s story One Small Thing, someone saw a mouse run under the bookcase. Everyone just ignored it because after all, it was just one small thing. Besides that, someone pointed out it was be a church mouse.
6. We had a huge barred owl in our tree last Sunday. The bluejays screeched and flew in circles.
7. I ordered and received a copy of my ex-husband’s first published book of poetry. The cover states that his collaboration with his (current) wife produced three children, which pissed me off because they didn’t really have 3 children--they only had one–and one of their “collaborative” three is really my daughter Sarah.
8. I went to a Day of the Dead Altar exhibit and was struck by the effort and love that went into those altars.
9. I saw dancers celebrating the Day of the Dead with fire sticks, eating fire to the music of drums. It was cold outside but the street was so jammed with celebrants that no one seemed to care. (Same event as above, but since one was inside and one was outside, I’m counting it as two.)
10. I stopped for coffee at a place I’d never been to before – “The Coffee Grinder – Seattle Style.” I asked what Seattle style meant and he said when it opened 12 years ago, Seattle was known for small coffee shops – this was before Starbucks – people would just get their coffee and go – it wasn’t a lounge. So they opened the shop without chairs
Not bad for a week in Tulsa America. A nice exercise. Examining your life in better light.