let's get back to the heart...especially where it's dark

yesterday i broke one of my rules.

i listened to a playlist that is only to be

played in the fall time.

i'm glad i broke the rules.

because it reminded me of the things

that truly make my head and heart swoon:

this first photo we took two years ago

on one of our many visits to boston.

my favorite city in the country.

it's old. i love old things.

the older, the better.

i love walks, especially when they require a scarf.

and my heart sings when it is an overcast/rainy day.

i am finding that i have a bizarre condition:

i get depressed when it is sunny for too long.

my happiness comes from storms and darkness.

it is about august now, and october can't come soon enough.

rainy days mean hearty harvest soups and delicious sandwiches

at lovely cafes. this one here is on beacon hill in boston.


i have always been attracted to death, the dead, and what happens after this earth. usually, i think i would tell people that death does not scare me. but, that is not completely true: i have found that my anxieties over whether or not i will complete everything i want to in this life are a fear of death and time. so, i am reminding myself to slow down, and embrace the phases of life. and, i must add, that i LOVE cemetaries...especially these centuries-old cemetaries in the heart of boston.

oh autumn!
when will you bring rest to my over-heated soul?!
i look forward to cool air, bright colors, and the harvest time.


i need to spend more time in places like this.
surrounded by books
and quiet.
learning what other brains have thought
and what other hearts have felt.


i want to spend more time with people who have experienced life.
i love their stories.
i just want to listen, and listen, and listen.



and, i have been neglecting my goals to get here:
ireland.
where my ancestors are from.
i could learn much about them and about myself
that would bring me great joys.



i am reminded of my goals to have a modest-sized home,
with a garden
on a small road
out of the way.

another dream destination:

estonia.

and the surrounding areas.

this will be well worth your time to watch and listen.

i remember that i want to sing

especially folk songs from america, ireland, and the baltic countries.

yes, i love music.

especially the thoughtful, heartful kind

that comes from places and people

who have known suffering and heartbreak.

this is what i mean when i want to get back to the dark places of the heart:

in the dark places are the places where we hide our suffering.

it is where we are most vulnerable.

but it also where we are the most beautiful,

the most human.

these mysteries of the heart are what bring me chills,

they make me aware of the goodness of a life experience here.

those dark places are my brightest places.

so, i ask for more darkness to bring me light:

more rainy days,

more stories and songs that are from the deep places of the soul,

more mysteries revealed,

more time spent in lovely libraries in dark corners,

more ancient ruins,

more love, more words, more beauty.

hello?

yes, i'm still here.

feeling very strange and out of place today.

so i'm just going to sit with it.

i'm allowing myself to do almost nothing today.

well, at least i let go of my asana practice,

and that's saying something.

this is in my head:

"but i'll tell you life is sweet,

inspite of the misery

there's so much more to be grateful."

and i am grateful.

always.

here's a list.

one. i am oh so grateful for a very good friend that i get to see everyday: cj

two. i am indeed grateful for difficult days. they stretch me, and remind me i am human.

three. i am grateful for shelves full of books written by wonderful people.

four. i am grateful for all that life has to offer...even if somedays it feels like it's not offering it to me.

five. i am grateful for music that enters my ears, but touches my soul

six. i am grateful for tears

seven. i am grateful for laughter...especially when i can laugh at myself

eight. i am grateful that life goes on...that the sun rises everyday, and never stops

nine. i am grateful for rain...especially when i haven't felt it in months

ten. i am grateful for a friend who is there for me whenever i need someone to say something encouraging: cj (love you!)

what are you grateful for?

photos by me. sometime in july 2009. by the window. flowers from the market.

a long-winded way to say i am content in my discontent

this blog is my journal. thank goodness hardly anyone reads this, or perhaps i couldn't be so vulnerable and honest. i hope it stays this way. don't you?

anyway, lately i've been feeling uncategorizable: i'm not working, i'm not a student, i'm not a mother. this makes for difficult social situations. no one wants to know what you do with your day unless you get paid for it or you are supported by academia or that you are raising children for a better society. at least, that's how it feels most days.

i can't talk to you about your favorite TV shows. i can't talk to you about the joys and the miseries of child-raising. i can't talk to you about how much you hate your job (if you hate your job, why don't you quit? that's all i want to say when you tell me how terrible it is).
though i can't talk to you about any of that, there's something i really can't talk to you about: fashion, design, stuff. well, i guess i can talk to you about all of that -- but not how you want to talk about it.

yes, i love pretty clothes. yes, i love a home that is decorated with attention to detail. yes, i love to pick up the latest teen vogue to see what young beautiful emma watson is wearing and which ivy league college she'll be going to. but then i immediately reminded of this:

"in many respects, the feminine mystique seems dated now...Still, there are fleeting moments when she recognizes the links between the "feminine mystique" and consumer capitalism, as in her observation that 'in the suburbs where most hours of the day there are virtually no men at all...women who have no identity other than sex creatures must ultimately seek their reassurance through the possession of things."

i don't want to be known for what i things i own or for what art hangs in my home (especially when most things are made in asia where child and slave labor run rampant--do i really want to own things that damage humanity and the earth?). i want to be known for who i am and how i have contributed.

yesterday i wanted to buy a handmade skirt from an etsy store. it's handmade in the u.s. so i felt it would be justifiable. but, i was reminded that i don't need any more skirts. i have at least 11 of them. (i'm just rambling here...sorry if i've lost your interest or if you're just lost).

so everyday i have to go through a conversation with myself that goes something like this:

"i would really love to have that beautiful skirt/sofa/home"

"but where was it made?"

"how can i make it myself?"

"do i really need it?"

"apartments are good enough for me. i have enough."

come january i hope to be enrolled in some serious sewing classes so i can make all of my own clothes. cj and i have begun to make our own furniture: starting with simple bookcases. i think this will liberate us from having anything to do with factories and chemicals.

what i am saying is that everyday i wonder where this life is taking me. i don't seem to have a place most days. no school, no job, no possessions. i read. i write what i want to. i paint, though terribly. i make meals. i go outside. i practice yoga.

i learn that it is okay to shake when things get hard, but to stick to it because it's always worth it. i learn that if i try my best things won't always work out, but i at least did my best. i learn that not knowing what the future holds is agonizing, but that's just fine too.

i am uncategorizable and unemployable (for now...and maybe forever). but somehow i feel an underlying calm amidst a storm of emotions.

of course, this isn't what i really wanted to write. there's so much more, and words can never do your heart and soul justice--this is the worst aspect of mortality.

photos by frederic poirot

i like art, of course, but who thought i'd ever enjoy a pop country concert?

saturday we had a birthday extravaganza for my mother-in-law.

i truly enjoyed visiting this art exhibit.

the painting above was one of my very favorites.

do you think someday i'll paint something this beautiful?

we shall see.

practice. practice. practice.

another favorite.

zina's mom is always a favorite.

never met her.

do you think you could arrange something, zina?

i mean, we are related.

after lots of art and lots of food

we headed up to deer valley.

it was oh so nice to get out of the heat and

into some clean mountain air.

now,

whenever someone asks me if i like country music

i make sure to say that i like "old" country music like:

johnny cash, john prine, nanci griffith, etc.

i do not like:

garth brooks, tim mcgraw, faith hill, etc.

so i was pleasantly surprised that i enjoyed

the night with

leann rimes.

she can rock...and i like that.


thanks, whittakers, for a good time!

wash my face clean...

"oh i wish it would rain

and wash my face clean.

i wanna find some dark cloud

to hide in here."

after a crazy weekend

i'm feeling a bit drained.

i need some rain to refresh

my spirit.

perhaps this is why i love the rain...

it is refreshing and provides a moment to hide,

to listen, to be still.

i found this post today

and it really made me

desperate for anywhere

but sunny california.


oh, i wish it would rain!

images via flickr.

manifesto monday

"for every atom belonging to me, as good belongs to you."

this i believe.

photo by frederic poirot

why i love slc: you can see the weather, the air feels and smells clean (though bike-riding is still better than driving because it could be cleaner)

the first thing i noticed when we

were out of california

is that i could see the

sky.

i could see the weather.

this is so comforting to me.

this is why i love our desert home.

you can see so much.

the nevada desert is equally as beautiful.

i never grow tired of that dry, mountainous landscape.

i hope you never make the mistake to think that

nevada is a wasteland.

this is the great tragedy of that place:

that it is being ripped apart by mining

and nuclear testing.

anyway,

when we finally reached

the cottonwood canyons

ray lamontagne welcomed us with these words:

I'm still thinkin' 'bout you

i'm so lonesome without you

and i can't get you out of my mind...

that's how i feel about this place.

it's our first love indeed.

boots & butterflies

saturday ceej and i went hiking with some friends.
ooh, there were swarms of butterflies!
just like a fairytale.
ceej got some great shots of the butterflies...
i wanted to share them all,
but i'll let him do that.

i've had these boots for seven years.
love them.

i've started using a trekking pole on the down-hills to save my knees. yes, i'm getting old. finally.

look at that butterfly and those pretty yellow flowers.
ceej really did get some great shots.

he's a pretty darn good guy.
feel luckier and luckier every day
that i married him.
really.

this last photo is more for me...
it reminds me that my hair is still
long
even after some lady chopped off
8 inches
when i only asked for 4 inches off.
my hair FEELS short.
but i know it's still long.
i'm growing it out again.

anyway.
the weekend was lovely:
hiking in a beautiful place.
had a painting lesson.
learned how to knit (casting, knit&pearl).

ceej and i are off to SLC in an hour or so.
can't wait to see family and friends.

all photos by ceej. july 2009. castle peak.

monday manifesto: becoming like a child

i remember asking for art kits when i was very young...the nice rows of colored pencil, pastels, and chalk within a black book were oh so pretty to my 7-year-old eyes. those art kits were always on my birthday and christmas lists (along with a puppy and a pony, of course). i remember getting one. maybe i got more than one. but i would have liked to get even more than that, i'm sure.
my older sisters were artists. good ones too. they won awards, and i remember going to see them on display. i wanted more than anything to have them show me how to use color on a canvas...how to paint pretty things (probably a pony). but, they were soon busy with college and marriage. though i desparately wanted art lessons i tried to understand that my sisters were very busy women, carving out their futures and their own beautiful lives independent of family.
with my chance for free art lessons out of the house, i stopped drawing. i had forgotten all of this until yesterday.
yesterday cj gave me my first painting lesson. my first strokes like colors on a playground: blue, red, yellow, green. very simple. then i started mixing paint...not knowing what colors i would get. then i just started painting. why was i so shocked when i painted what i did?
it was a tree. with birds in the sky and grass on the ground. at first i thought i was drawing a tree because i love them more than anything. but as i continued painting and i realized exactly what i had done i was overcome with tears. i used to draw this scene all the time when i was young and hoping for art lessons: tree to the left side of the paper, m-shaped birds in the sky, blades of grass at the foot of the tree. i went right back to my 7-year-old self. i unkowingly picked up right where i had left off.
i cleaned out my brushes, watching the colors wash down the drain. cj showed me where everything goes when painting is over for the day. i stepped back into our "studio" and looked at my painting. i slowly walked over to ceej, gave him a hug, while still looking at my reddish tree against a greenish sky. its spirit brought my heart's tears through my eyes. i had to tell him. "i love my painting. i think it's really good." and i do. i am well aware that it is no great work of art, but i love it because i'm still painting my childhood beauty. trees. grass. birds. i'm going to frame it and hang it in my bedroom where i will awake each day to its simple beauty, and a reminder that i can do whatever my good dreams have shown me.
we often hear that we should become as little children because they are humble and meek. but i think that to become like a child also means to let go of fears, let go of judgement (especially of ourselves), and to put your heart out there. this i believe.

i'm pretty sure that rockin' out is in my future too. i started my weekend with this...and it's been the most amazing, heart-lifting weekend i've had

seriously.

best

weekend

ever.

{i'll tell you all about it tomorrow}

p.s.

who wants to be in my band?

giddy

i'm scared to hell about applying to such a wonderful school,

but this morning,

after your kind words

and phone calls from dear friends (including the genius)

i'm ready to write.

my brain isn't waiting for my fingers to catch up.

it's a good morning.

though i'm scared to hell.

have a lovely, lovely weekend.

photo by me. down by the river. may 2009.

are "notes to self" really a great idea? or are they just testaments of our delusions?

this morning, thinking i was receiving a bit of inspiration, i jotted down on page 1 of my new hand-made notebook:

what if all the doors and windows were always open?

this, of course, is part of my self-therapy to "get over it," "hitch my wagon to the stars," "live life deliberately," and remind myself that "i have nothing to gain, nothing to lose."

so, if all windows & doors are open AND i have nothing to lose, then today is my day!

sign up for two writing classes. check.

sign up for one drawing & composition class. check.

email two former professors asking them to write a reference letter because i'm just going to do it...i'm going to apply for the bread loaf school of english master's program. gulp.

my friend, who is a genuis i might add, has told me that they're desperate for students...they'll take anyone. is this supposed to be encouraging? she thinks so. it makes me want to rip what brains i do have out of my child-size head (it's true, all my hats must be purchased from the kids' section).

email two professors. check. double gulp. what do i think i'm doing?!

one reply from one professor. check.

he's happy to write the reference...after seeing more examples of my writing because "Breadloaf is a premier program, as you know, and they have multiple generic focuses, but they need me to speak to a range of writerly skill."

oh crap.

i'm a historian. not a creative writer...at least not a ten-page-creative-writer.

so, yes. i feel stupid. but i'm going to go along with it. because supposedly they're willing to accept anyone.

does that include people who buy their hats in the children's section?

part of the journey...

today

i see nothing

i know nothing

i love nothing.

i do nothing.

i am nothing.

the entire day ahead.

begin anew.

(photo by me. may 2009. down by the river).

on eleanor, practice, suffering, believing, & ritual

yesterday afternoon i listened to a podcast of allida black speaking about eleanor roosevelt. i think i have a new heroin. eleanor roosevelt was indeed an amazing woman--she fought ferociously for human rights, wrote her own newspaper column, replied to 300,000 letters that she recieved in a 3-month period, taught herself 5 languages, and recieved multiple death threats from such groups as the kkk. this woman did whatever it took to take action in an effort to make her world just that much better. we have no excuses.

my yoga practice this morning was especially revealing and cleansing. perhaps it was the new playlist on my ipod. perhaps it was revisiting postures i haven't practiced in a while. perhaps it was my sincerity. this morning i needed to go to that place where my soul resides. i needed to call it forth, so that i could find the confidence to move forward in life. i read about abhyasa, a sanskrit word that means "constant practice," "continuous effort," "discipline." i was reminded of my commitment to practice a life full of joy and action, and that i will certainly run into hard times as i do so, but this is part of the journey.

then, just to hammer the point home, in my daily reading i read about a group of men who continued on their journey teaching people what they believed...they ran into hardships and prayed not that those hardships would be removed, but that they might endure the hardships with patience and strength. i thought of grace, and how this story will help me to live life more gracefully. they continued on their journey not knowing beforehand if they would have food to eat or a place to sleep. another reminder that i need to let go of fears, and move forward.

i ate my usual breakfast: oatmeal + agave, cinnamon, & ghee.

i ate it with my lavendar and a burning candle for my meal sadhana.

it's been a very good morning.

thanks to ritual.

photos by me. july 2009. dining table.

san francisco.

our little trip to s.f. with cj's parents this weekend was

nice and sunny.

with perfect temperatures in the 60s and 70s.

it was indeed a relief from the heat of the sacramento valley.

friday night cj's parents took us to a yummy restaurant on the pier.

i had the veggie risotto.

mmmmm!

some sights:

lawn bowling in golden gate park

&

the twistiest road in the world!

this obsession you all have with cupcakes is contagious.

truly, i was giddy to see these.

this was only my first dessert.

second dessert was delicious vanilla ice cream

to wash that chocolatey cupcake goodness down.

every time we are in a lovely city

i notice how warm people's doorways are...

i start dreaming of living the chic city life.

perhaps some day.

farmers market at the ferry building.

i had farmers market envy to the max.

the variety and the quality!

was wishing this is what my farmers market had to offer.

(i still have a soft spot for my small tuesday market here in sacramento though)

i think i could take photos of pretty flowers and pretty food for the rest of my life and be completely happy.

especially if i could eat all this yumminess, and bring all these bouquets of flowers home with me!



here is the famous "poem store."
"your price. your topic."
he was busy writing when we came around...
maybe next time i'll get my own.



the museum...
we don't have as many photos as i'd hoped,
but i never know when it is appropriate to take photos in a museum.
some times i get away with snapping hundreds of photos,
other times i get in trouble on shot one.
we were camera shy this time around.



our friend, lane, recommended the slanted door.
she was right.
best vietnamese ever!
still tasting it in my mouth and heart.


not too shabby of a location either.
patio dining...be still my heart!

i know we missed a whole lot of the city...

any suggestions for our next visit?

pep talk

my nemisis is back.

perfectionism.

it paralyzes me.

it brings me fear upon fear.

regret upon regret.

it tells me that no one cares

about what matters to me.

it whispers that my dream job

doesn't even exist...

so go work at a coffee shop.

forever.

so i'm giving myself a little pep talk.

well, i'm thumbing through some of my favorite books

and looking for words from great writers:

some of the words are validating, some of them are motivating or thought-provoking.

"talent lies around in us like kindling waiting for a match, but some people, just as gifted as others, are less lucky. fate never drops a match on them. the times are wrong, or their health is poor, or their energy low, or their obligations too many. something."
wallace stegner, crossing to safety, page 50

"so long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters."

virginia woolf, a room of one's own

"do what you like to do. it'll probably turn out to be what you do best."-wallace stegner, crossing to safety

"When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you'll not talk about joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?" -c.s. lewis, till we have faces, page 294

"do you guess i have some intricate purpose?/ well i have -- for the April rain has, and the mica on/ the side of a rock has." -walt whitman, song of myself, page 29

"you shall no longer take things at second or third hand,/ nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on/ the spectres in books, / you shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,/ you shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self." -walt whitman, song of myself

"to be a little kinder [is] the best way to develop our potential...if we live in the here and now, each moment is a surprise, every instant a new wonder." - piero ferrucci, the power of kindness, page 99

today i am grateful for discouragement. it moves me to seek. it moves me to be still. it lets me cry. it allows me to think. it makes my days of joy completely joyful.

any quotes you'd like to share that help pick you up when you are down?

photos taken by me. july 2009. by the window.

(photos of our san francisco trip will be up later today!)

manifesto monday: artists

the first time i visited san francisco i was a senior in high school. our legendary art history teacher, cheryl hughes, arranged for a large group of students to travel there to see the art that that western city has to offer. i barely recall any of it...i was consumed with my first broken heart...unfortunately the heart-breaker was on the trip too. so, i was dealing with such heartache in the only way a high school girl knows how: i was acting tough, and went out of my way to pretend i was really enjoying myself. but a high-school relationship is not what i want to talk about. what i want to talk about is what little i do remember about the trip: a woman who was an artist...one that even non-art historians would recognize because she was that good.

georgia o'keefe. between my acting scenes on that trip nine years ago, we entered a museum with a greek-looking facade. white columns. measured to perfection. we were there to see her flowers (i had yet to learn to appreciate her deserts). have you ever noticed what happens to your heart and to your soul when you see great art in person? every emotion you didn't know was in you comes right to the surface. you become delicate. at the same time your eyes open, and i'm talking about that third eye especially. the one that brings visions of who you are, and what the world and the universe are.

the toughness had to melt. so i cried when i saw the colors of a phoenix in flower petals. i knew what it meant to be a woman when i saw the organic lines of stormy blues and grays surrounding the white pearl in the center of another flower (though i didn't know it fully at the time). this is the most vibrant of all my memories of that trip so many years ago.

this weekend cj and i visited that city together. his parents met us there for a short vacation. saturday afternoon we quickly headed to the MOMA, not knowing what we were to see.

georgia o'keefe. once again, there was a special exhibit of her work there. this time along side the photographs of ansel adams. we met again...me and that woman. this time it was much the same, but also there was much that had changed in my relationship with that woman. first of all, i have read and studied more these past nine years about women, gender issues, and art. second, i have fallen in love with the tortured, yet beautiful landscapes of the southwest.

interestingly, i tried, still, to be tough. as soon as i approached one of her paintings with the wings of a pelvis in the sky of a moon i got that lump in my throat. the last thing i needed was family asking if i was ok...how do you explain that for some reason these paintings are bringing up every emotion including awe, wonder, gratitude, regret (for not learning how to paint), rage (for a society that doesn't value art as much as it should), etc? it is not easy to tell everyone the range of feelings that a person has acquired over a lifetime (even if my lifetime has only lasted 27 years so far).

then i was oh so grateful for a husband who is an artist. when we retured home i could cry to him about how i wish i could paint...it truly seems like a release and a way to speak that would heal a person. artists truly are a gift to our hearts and souls. perhaps because they must struggle to get by in this world...they know how beautiful yet agonizing life can be. i will learn how to draw and to paint. this will be yet another way i can speak. this i believe.

poulsbo: part 4...the ferry...and last of the poulsbo photos!

after we did our own fireworks in the backyard,

we rushed to catch the bainbridge ferry that was leaving for seattle.

we wanted to see the city's fireworks show...

here's me with one of my little nephews...he's a real "tough guy", a boy 100%

i loved being out on the water with the brisk breeze.

it was the northwest experience i was dreaming of!

oh, that lovely city...

i couldn't help but think of "sleepless in seattle"

(i think that movie is better remembered in my head than it actually is)

there's my favorite person, standing outside with one of my favorite sweaters on.



don't you think ceej is quite handsome?
lucky me!

two lovely things:

the city at night & ceej

my sister-in-law and her cute baby boy.

the fireworks over the city!

(we couldn't see them as well as we hoped, but i still enjoyed it!)

my older sister, and another of my nieces...

this is my brother-in-law who towers a whole 12 inches above his wife (my sister)

my little tough guy...wearing "oscar the grouch" hoodie.

so very, very cute.