on simple joys, fragility, and time

aren't these so very pretty?
they are jewels to me.
candy.
would buy all the thread in the world
just to let it sit on my table so i could gaze at it.
but i must make something with these lovely colors.
i'll think of something and then show you what becomes
of these beautiful threads.
sewing helps my time alone fly by.
it truly is a therapy:
being busy with my hands,
creating something
to use or to give away.
something i made.
so satisfying.

i continue to have mini awakenings...
they alert me that i have wonderful things to do,
and better ways to spend my time.
creating.
moving.
reading.
recording.
telling.
laughing.

i'm in this intense fragile time in my life i feel.
it's a fragility that is on the brink of deliberate vision,
on the heel of courage and fairy tales.

i'm in love more and more with small things,
with elegant things and people,
with honest people who are so solid to the core.

i'm about to simplify,
yet open up my world to so many possibilities.
i can just feel it.

so what shall i make with these pretty little things?
any suggestions?

so grateful for breakings and openings...
aren't you?

so grateful for all the little things that are so fragile.

have a renewing weekend...

.take deep breaths. slow & deliberate.
.watch the trees inhale and exhale the wind.
.let go of something you've been trying to control.

.talk to a farmer about where your food comes from. buy local.
.make a healthy and yummy meal from scratch for someone you love.
.give thanks to this earth and all she lends us.

.take a walk. a slow one. taking time to see and hear.
.find a sense of wonder and awe.
.this life is so good.

.keep it simple and unadorned.
.laugh. run. rest.
.renew.

my day through almost every lens at every moment. aka: picture overload. enjoy.

it certainly was a lovely day.
full of little things.
flowers. my piano. writing. rain. and scones.

there were no big events. no big ah-ha's.
just the usual.
the usual beautiful things that grace my days.

rain painting on the windows,
running down to the ground outside.

the light in the apartment growing darker or lighter
as the clouds gather and thin.

i just want to add here
that i'm pretty sure the flowers on my piano
can feel its pretty melodies
even when it is quiet.
i think they like each other.
i could look at this couple all day.

barely squeezed in some writing.
but did enough.
i did my "morning pages", for those of you
who know about morning pages.

and didn't i tell you i would make scones?
well here they are.
almond scones.
recipe to come soon...

a good day indeed.
and i need to add that it is
sister no. 2's {of 4} birthday today.
i think she'd like these photos completely.
she taught me to ski. to bake bread. to play the piano. to live.

no more posting this week.
i'll be busy. busy. busy.

see you next week.
hope your days are simple and lovely!

Manifesto Monday: Slow Down

Every year the holidays leave me happily dizzy. There are parties to attend (sometimes more than one in a single evening), people to catch up with, gifts to be made and wrapped, recipes to try and taste, lists to check, bags to pack, and cards to write. By New Year's I am overwhelmed, and ready to crawl back into hibernation. For the past few years I have come to realize how easy it is to run faster than is healthy...there is oh so much to enjoy on this earth, so much to learn, so much to share! How can one say "no" to anything?! So, I have to remind myself that "less is more", "do not be hasty", and "don't bite off more than you can chew." I think I could use just a tad bit more "yes" in certain places in my life...however, I think I could honestly use more "no" right at the moment. No, I do not have to spend hours brushing up on photo skills. No, I do not have to cook three amazing meals every day. No, I do not have to attend every yoga workshop available. No, I do not have to go out on the weekends. All I need nowadays is Ceej, a couch, a blanket, and a good book. Yes to deep breaths. Yes to a slower year. This is what makes me fulfilled. This I believe.

photo by aya padron