A quote on my fridge reads: "In the stillness I remember what is important". I'm sitting at my kitchen island, alone in my house except for the dogs and cats. I've regained control over my laundryroom so I'm slowly beginning to make a dent in the overstuffed hamper. Nobody is around to borrow my computer charger, so my computer is recharging as I type, and I'm listening to Lori McKenna radio on Pandora, because noone is here to change the station. Alison Krauss and the Union Station just finished singing, "When you say nothing at all"…A smile on your face let's me know that you need me… This holiday season our house has been alive with smiles, family and friends, laughter, some tears, worries and turmoil, amazing food, the scent of evergreens, glowing lights, essential conversations, and an abundance of warm hello and good-bye embraces, but now suddenly all is quiet. In the stillness, as I watch the birds fervently fly to and from the feeders, I remember what is important…Gratitude.
My Blog
WHAT CAN YOU SEE WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED?
This is my newest necklace design. I made it with my favorite green glass czech beads. I don't ever want to run out of these beads because I absolutely love everything about them…their color, their shape, their feel. It seems so arbitrary how we become attached to certain things. What cerebral wiring differentiates the hoarder from the minimalist? Is the minimalist happier and freer and more imaginative? I am inclined to think so. Just the fact that I have this unhealthy desire to hoard these bright smooth gems, makes me realize that it is time to deplete my inventory and move on.
I'm a visual person, and until a couple of years ago when I experienced two large tears in my retina, I had always taken my eyesight for granted. Growing up in Morristown, NJ, home of the Seeing Eye Headquaters, it would have been uncommon to drive through the city and not see at least a couple of trainers out with their dogs. We always looked for them and I remember thinking what a cool job that would be…in fact I still think so, even though the thought of being blind has always scared me. My daughter, Anna and I unanimously agreed that we would choose deafness over blindness if we were forced to make the decision. Still, I am intrigued, and wonder about blindness. I always feel such compassion and admiration when I see a blind person. I remember loving the Goldie Hawn movie, Butterflies are free, and a short story by Raymond Carver called Cathedral, where a man learns, through his wife's blind friend, how change is possible in life. I have never known anyone who has lost their eyesight, yet I am sure they could teach me many things about seeing.
Our four kids were home for Thanksgiving and there was a palpable energy that could be felt with my eyes closed … damp, brisk air and warm bodies, conversations and laughter, barking dogs and quietude, and later into the night guitar music acompanying a soft bluesy voice. Maybe we can improve our imaginations if we practice focusing on what we can see with our eyes closed. Maybe then I wouldn't be so scared.
WHERE ALL MY LOVED ONES PLAY
IN LOVING MEMORY OF STAR AND PATCH
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2013
On this windy November morning,
Before the first glimpse of light,
I imagined exactly where in the field,
My dear steer had slept the night.
In the dark as I quickly dressed,
I could see them side by side,
And knowing this as my last morning’s feed
On my way to the barn I cried.
My friends are old and their joints are stiff,
It’s hard for them to stand,
Yet by the time I reach the fence,
They are there to smell my hand.
Back and forth from barn to pasture,
I carry them grassy hay,
Do they question me feeding them grain before night?
I will feed them grain all day.
Their steady, dependable, gentle ways
Have gifted me years of calm.
The touch of their ears and their big soft noses
Imprinted for life in my palm.
It’s breaking my heart to say good-bye,
But it’s time to let them go.
And through their leaving I can finally cry
For the great love and sadness I know.
And later tonight with a full moon out
On this windy November day
I’ll go to that snug place deep in my heart,
Where all my loved ones play.
COMING ALIVE
“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs.
Ask yourself what makes you come alive and then go do that.
Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
—Howard Thurman
Danny Gregory posted the quote above at the end of one of his recent blogs, about being an artist. 10 minutes ago, after reading it, I filled this little feeder with bread, peanutbutter and seeds, and photographed it hanging from the Elm tree we planted in our back yard. Two minutes ago I received a phonecall that an old childhood friend, who had been bravely battling cancer, quietly passed away in the night. What makes me feel alive are connections…Quiet Sunday mornings, like this one, after a very condensed busy week, allow me to read Danny's blog, where he makes thought-provoking comments on being an artist, and the Howard Thurman quote which inspires me to think about who I am and why certain images call to me to be photographed, and in these still & easy moments, like now, where I can sit and listen, I am suddenly in the best place I could be for a very sad phone call. Coming alive is about connections. Letting go is only physical…the meaningful connections remain forever strong inside of all of us.
WHAT'S THE HURRY? STRUCTURES AND DREAMS
I have a long list of things I need to get done today, and all within a tightly timed schedule, but here I am. What's the Hurry? I led a creative writing group yesterday at my church, and "What's the hurry?" was one of the many prompts I offered my writing ladies. So, I was just about to head out to the barn to tidy up after my two steer, Star & Patch, who I let hunker in under the shed roof of the barn now that it's getting cold, and they are old, but….
...in deciding to take a quick look at the most recent Houzz email, I discovered a wonderful romantic story, and I needed to comment on it. I keep glancing over my shoulder at the red wall clock. I have time. What's the hurry
We own a 600 square foot home surrounded by preservation land that we want to expand on ever so minimally. I've been hesitant, afraid of changing it, but Lilah and Nick's dreams inspired me. The video is titled, "This glass walled cabin that romance built."The thing I love so much about our house is its small size, and the freeness and creativity I feel when i am there. I worry about loosing that by adding on, but as Lilah says, I need to be able to share this special place.
CONNECTION
I've been traveling alot and meeting people in random places along the way, while sitting on a couch in JCrew, at a dog park in NYC, a farmers' market in West Tisbury, and out on the West coast where I met a man and his daughter on a rainy day playing in the pacific ocean. I love synchronous moments that allow us to make unexpected spontaneous connections. I am convinced they enhance my life.
Connection seems to be a common theme for me these days, probably because I'm more aware of feeling disconnected than ever before, so what do I do, but turn to my computer screen. I'm not browsing the web or stalking friends on facebook, although I do occasionally scroll through, and on a rare occasion I am inspired to share something on my blog. This morning I watched this video below posted by a friend and I liked it alot.
Robert Gordon introduced it:
"We, as human beings, think that through social networks, we’ve somehow become more social creatures.
The problem with this theory is, the more we “connect” online, the less actual human interactions we have, making us actually fairly unsocial.
A new video breaks down exactly how the social aspects of human beings have evolved and transformed, showing how we’ve regressed from a social standpoint.
Shimi Cohen shows exactly what’s wrong with our social structure now, and how we manipulate how we want to be presented to peers, family members, and potential mates on social media, rather than having vulnerable and genuine conversations in real time.
Check out this video, and take a moment to truly assess how you conduct yourself, both online and in person.
THE PINECONE
I found this pinecone on one of my walks through the woods and photographed it on a sheet of black paper.
So beautiful.
"Few scholars realize it, but the pine cone alludes to the highest degree of spiritual illumination possible."
KALEIDOSCOPE
I had a really nice walk through my friends' woods, bordering Appleton farms. I had my camera with me and spent the walk studying the leaves and trees and the colors. I was thinking of a particular passage from one of my favorite books, Tinkers, by Paul Harding:
"The way the clouds moved, mostly invisable, above the canopy of the trees, now revealing the full light of the sun, now obscuring it, now diffusing it, reflecting it, and the way it sparkled and trickled and gushed and spun, and the way the wind dispersed it even more among the flickering leaves and twitching grass, all combined to make Howard feel as if he were walking through a kaleidoscope."
PEAK MOMENTS old post revised
The rain stopped. The skies opened up, and then the next thing I knew the sun was out, the birds were back at the feeders, and the lighting was so warm and beautiful and peaceful. I stopped. I allowed myself a moment to take a break from thinking about the list of things I need to accomplish today. It was a "peak" moment in my day.
I've been thinking about my four children, and have become very aware of giving them space along with my strong faith that they will find their way in life. I respect them greatly. They are all transitioning, three of them out of college, with one building a career for herself in the culinary world, another supporting himself on the west coast, questioning and searching and exploring new possibilities, and my most recently graduated from college, out in Boulder, working for MMLocal, a farm to market food company. My youngest, after taking a year off and doing a fall semester with Kroka expeditions, and then an internship in New Zealand is a freshman in college and seems enthusiastic and engaged. So I will focus on my life, and resist the temptation to call them.
They are adults now, and like the weather, one moment it may be raining and the next filled with sunshine. Maslow says that the closer we get to self actualiazation, the more "peaks" we experience. They confirm the realizations we have of our full potential. I hope, by living my own values and respecting my childrens' individuality, they will continue to seek knowledge and meaning and appreciation for all the beauty in themselves and this world.
I recently discovered the blog of a Norwegian man named Bjarte Bakke, and I have shared two of his posts with my children: The four most important things in life, and The hidden secret of outstanding performance: Learn how to think. They have opened up good conversations. The TED talk that he posts by Meg Jay on why 30 is not the new 20 is very worthwhile listening to.
I hope we can all experience more peaks in our lives.
PHOTOGRAPHY WORKSHOP
I just finished a week long photography workshop on Marthas Vineyard. My teacher was Alison Shaw, who came to Marthas Vineyard in 1975 to work at the Vineyard Gazette, and never left. Her fine art photography is exquisite, and she shares her very favorite locations and techniques in such a warm and professional way. With every new wave, every changing ray of light, and the personal decisions we make on how to frame what we see through the lens of our cameras, no two images are the same. I learned so much. This was one of my favorite shots taken in the early morning at Lucy Vincent Beach in Chilmark.
TODAY
TODAY
I'm very excited, and so are my dogs. I'm excited because my friend and web designer, Karen, has been helping me to redesign my website, and she is about to switch it over. My dogs are excited , although . . . if they could speak they would probably say pissed off because they never got a walk today. That's the issue when I become creatively inspired, I actually become impaired because I get so totally engrossed in whatever project I am doing that I tend to ignore everything else going on around me. I love NOT multitasking. Not a good attitude. I am now going to feed the dogs and take an evening walk. Stay tuned.
RIDING BOOTS
Woke up at 5:30 this morning in the dark, fed the dogs, and headed over to Cranes beach to photograph the sunrise, but the gates were locked. I drove back through Essex and over to Singing Beach in Manchester, but nothing cried out to me. I cut back over to Hamilton on Chebacco Road stopping to walk my dogs through the woods...my camera around my neck, but never felt inspired to look through my lens. It was 7:30 now and time to go home. I got out of my car and walked down to let the chickens out of the coop. The lighting was flat and they are molting so there were more feathers on the floor of the coop than on their backs. I was just about to give up and retire my camera to its case when Lisa's riding boots, sitting in the early morning sun on the tackroom floor, caught my eye.
COOL CITIES & CLOSE MOMENTS
My kids are spread out across the country at this stage of our family life. It's actually not all bad because they're living in pretty cool cities that I would have otherwise never had the opportunity to know. More importantly, by visiting each of them in their individual environments, I, myself, am removed from the daily distractions of my familiar routine, which frees me to relax. It's such a luxury to have extended time to focus on the close moments between you and your child. In the less hectic minutes and hours I can feel strong connections being made, often silently, as I have the opportunity to observe my grown children building their adult lives. Watching them and reflecting on my own life, I remind myself that it's a process.
I painted wall art during each of my visits. The poppies and white cow are in Boulder, the brown cow in Portland, Oregon, and the red daisies in NYC. I'm on my way up to Burlington, Vermont tomorrow for a parent's weekend, but not so sure there will be time to be creative.
PAINT YOUR PET
SAMMY
Last night was "paint your pet night" at 15 Walnut Cafe in Lynn. An old professor of mine has been hosting these creative events there for some time now, but this was only the first time that I was available to attend one. After experiencing the atmosphere exuding from this funky little cafe, it won't be my last. We sat out back, at a long table, in a small closed in garden area. Our instructor, Michelle Lewis, provided all the supplies...acrylics, brushes, water, papertowels, and a 16x20" white primed canvas perched on a tabletop easel, waiting to be transformed. I was feeling a bit restless and anxious yesterday...just having one of those more worriesome than usual days, aware of the need to stop and listen and to take slow deep breaths, but wanting to be productive, maybe feeling disconnected? All I know is that the minute I walked into the 15 Walnut Cafe and looked around I felt totally at ease. This was where I belonged. This was what I needed...to be absorbed. As the night progressed my thoughts naturally shifted away from myself, and I began to focus outwardly on the abundance of creative energy in that one small place. Painting is so much fun,, but this was a night where it was much more than that. It was the feeling of connection and belonging, openness and acceptance among a diverse group of people without any sense of urgency. Another peak moment in my life.
STORYTELLING
STORY TELLER
After opening an email from storyteller, Jay O'Callahan, and reading a poem he wrote called Summer Vacation, I started to dig back through some of his earlier blogs. I came across his entry, below, which I felt drawn to share. I am reminded that I really want to take one of Jay's workshops. After a refreshing reacquaintance with him, I am determined to make it happen!
"We’re all creative! I’ve learned that giving workshops – storytelling and writing workshops – for over thirty years. I’ve also learned that there is something in our cultural genes that fashions invisible doors inside which we learn NOT to create. As a result . . . crayons are put away when we’re seven. Clay is put away after camp. Poems are no longer written after high school or college. On and on. This is absurd. Life is short. Create! Sing a lullaby to your child. Make one up. Who cares if it isn’t “good.” Wink at someone. Plant a lettuce you’ve never tried." -Jay O'Callahan
We are planning on selling our old 1977 VW Bus this summer, which is difficult to let go of, but it's time. The drawing above is one I did about a year ago. Images allow us to hold on and let go at the same time.
ROSES
The roses ON our tool shed will bloom well into the autumn season as the days will get shorter and the temperatures cooler.
RAINY DAYS
Another rainy day in New England. Our sisal rug has been hanging out over our pasture fence now for almost a week. We're in need of a few consecutive days of sunshine. Even though the sound of the rain is kind of nice to fall asleep to, I'm feeling a bit waterlogged.
LAYERS
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SELF PORTRAIT
