come forth, and bring with you your heart...

still thinking of our perfect trip to yosemite...

it really was the perfect trip:
heated tent, fall leaves, frosty mornings, hot cocoa,
cuddling in sleeping bags, conversations about being better,
lots of laughing (mostly at ourselves),
and a very good companion to share it all with.

checking off lists

i'm feeling quite productive this monday...nothing like a new week!

my list isn't long...it's hard to keep it short...but i try to keep it simple

making it easy and stress-free to cross things off my list.

one thing on my list has got me feeling absolutely giddy today:

school.

last summer i was in asheville, north carolina.

next summer i'll be in oxford, england.

i'm thinking about roaming around oxford's lincoln college campus,

browsing through their world-renowned library,

and attending class with my peers in my professor's quarters.

it's going to be a dream come true for sure.

within the next month or so i've got to make a big decision:

which class do i take?

i only get to take one. one!

how does one choose?

i've narrowed it down to two choices:

one:

early romanticism.

This course will chart the evolution of romanticism by locating its

origins in earlier eighteenth-century writing and by examining a number of key texts from the “first generation” of romantic writers of the

1790s and early 1800s. The course will explore early romanticism from

a variety of perspectives—political, social, literary, aesthetic. We will

focus in particular on the following topics: sensibility and sentiment, the

sublime, landscapes of the mind, rudeness and primitivism, the role of

women. The list of texts below is not comprehensive. Students will be

encouraged to pursue individual lines of enquiry and to read widely for

their written papers.

two:

pre-raphaelitism to decadence: literature and vision

The Victorian art critic John Ruskin once thundered that

“Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see. To see clearly is poetry,

prophecy, and religion—all in one.” This course explores the

intersections, borrowings, and clashes of verbal and visual cultures in Victorian Britain, from the birth of the Pre-Raphaelite

movement in the mid century to the Decadence of the 1890s.

We will discuss issues such as the place and value of art in the

second half of the nineteenth century, pre-Raphaelite poetry and

painting, aestheticism, art for art’s sake, ekphrasis, ghostly visions,

sexuality, Symbolism, Decadent writing. Our focus in class will

be primarily on literary texts, but there will be opportunities

for integrating visual material and for exploring Oxford’s superb

late-Victorian heritage. A course pack with additional reading

will be given out at the beginning of the course.

which one would you choose?

project film & hoping a good hope

today i am dreaming of good things,
i am hoping a good hope:
the kind of hoping that has no ounce of dread
attached to it;
the kind of hoping that lifts a burdened, unknowing heart;
the kind of hoping that makes you envision the simplest of futures
no matter the specifics;
the kind of hoping that reminds you that life is a fairytale
with both dragons and faeries;
the kind of hoping that takes no planning,
just your best foot forward.

i like this kind of hope.

project film & weekend

just a quick hello before ceej & i take off
with his parents for the coast this weekend...
can't wait, especially since it should be raining most of the time
{which means wellies, jackets, umbrellas, and soup!}

hope you have a wonderful weekend ahead of you!

project film : the sea & life

i took these photos a while back
when ceej and i spent a sunday afternoon
at drakes beach in point reyes national seashore.
we love point reyes, and will miss it deeply when we go.
..................................................................



i've been thinking about cold wind
from both mountains and the sea,
and how ready i am to wear the same
sweater day after day.
...................................................................
i've been thinking about music,
listening to cellos and violins
while closing my eyes and humming along.
....................................................................
i've been thinking about words,
the best words in the best order,
reading aloud and hoping someday
i find what it is i most want to say.
......................................................................
i've been thinking about how easily
i am moved to tears lately,
everyday i am overcome with gratitude and awe
for little things.
........................................................................
i've been thinking how lucky i am
to be alive and to see the things i see,
to know the people i know,
though they are few in number,
they are great in soul.
.........................................................................
i've been thinking about today.
how much i love that word, today.
that's all i have to think about and that's
all i have to worry about.
i just want to make today simply beautiful,
and give it my best.

note to self :

{project film} the farmers' market : a seasonal guide

every tuesday, exactly at noon, we're standing in line at the tamale tent for some of the yummiest mexican food our mouths have ever savored. tuesdays have become "tamale tuesdays" at our house. after we carefully consume our pepper-spicy tamales we refresh our steaming mouths with horchata that puts up a good fight against the hundred-degree weather that is common in these parts. once our bellies are full we make our rounds to our usual farmer booths, filling our bags beyond their limits—literally bursting at the seams.

tamale tuesdays, however, are not year-round. this market only lasts from april through september. yesterday was our last tamale tuesday—ever. though we are excited for our move to utah in december, we realized we’ll be sad to miss our summer tuesday ritual at the market.

living in a place for the past two and a half years that has only two seasons has made us “seasonally claustrophobic,” as cj puts it. there isn’t much of fall, and winter is nowhere to be found. we are 4-season people, and we’ve missed our falling leaves and quiet snow storms.

the farmers’ market filled this empty place in our lives just a bit. i could tell what season it was by what the farmers had on their tables: asparagus, cherries, spinach, strawberries, melons, peaches, apples, pears, heirloom tomatoes, and on and on. we looked forward to each food season, and tried to preserve bits of each season in our freezer for special treats when those fruits and vegetables were rare.

now that the tuesday market has come to an end i will start my saturday morning trips to a year-round market, which I am absolutely giddy about. because this market is different. yes, they have all the staples that the other market offers, but instead of tamales we fill our bellies with bolani and cream cheese danishes—this is how I know its fall, despite the intolerable 99 degrees we’ll be hitting today.

project film & manifesto monday : crashing

last saturday we packed up our car, and headed out to the coast to escape the heat of the city. after two hours on freeways and winding roads we arrived at our beach. i carried three cameras, 2 books, my notebook, and a knitting project to our temporary fort on the sand. i had plans to be oh so productive on such a beautiful beach.

but i quickly settled down after taking only a handful of photographs and writing only a few lines in my little notebook-- i had no inclination to do much of anything but watch the water. i watched wave after wave come crashing to the shore. some waves were bigger and more dramatic than the little waves that barely come lapping up to the shore. i noticed how the waves just kept coming. they just kept crashing.

waves are somehow simultaneously calming and powerful. the sound of consistent beating upon the shore rests our minds and bodies. awe overcomes us as magnificent waves explode upon rocky monoliths.

and then i thought about how often, and somewhat consistently, i seem to crash. how is it that my crashing doesn't seem as powerful or as awe-inspiring as the ocean waves? i asked this question, and have since been changing how i view my own crashes, no matter how small they are or how prolific they are.

could my falling be just as beautiful? absolutely. could i cease to feel that crashing is awkward and embarrassing? yes indeed. could i embrace my crashing as much as i embraced each and every wave on that saturday afternoon? happily.

my mind has been filled with thoughts of letting go and releasing expectations; letting myself fall when i must fall; how powerful my "failures" can truly be.

our beach has gone through so much change over the past few months. when we visited our beach in may it was void of much of its sand, revealing a rocky shore without any even ground for picnicking. upon our return visit on saturday the rocks were once again covered up with one huge sandy beach, perfect for setting up blankets, towels, and umbrellas. i realized what a huge feat it was for the ocean to first, remove all that sand to reveal its rocky base, and second, to restore literally tons and tons of sand back to the beach. all of this done by the crashing of the waves. what great change is brought by crashing!

i am ready to crash more willingly, whether it is gracefully or terribly. this i believe.

northern california coast : holga

this coast was heaven, a refuge from the dark redwood forests...
how wonderful it was to hear the waves crashing in the far distance
while we were hiking for long hours,
knowing that soon our feet would rest in this sand and these cool waves.
love. love. love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

what a joy film is!
although, it does take a big chunk of time to scan it.
but sooooo very worth it, yes?
by next week i will have a plethora of lovely film images to share with you.

manifesto monday: great breakings

i have been reminded of how wonderful breaking can be.

breaking opens me up to what really is, and what can truly be.

for the past few days i have been fearing a break i need to make,

but this morning after an honest yoga practice,

and some wonderful encouragement from ceej,

i am ready to break.

i have mentioned this before, and i'll mention it again,

i have a problem of saying "yes" to just about everything.

everything sounds so wonderful.

everything is so beautiful.

everything is so worthy.

then i wonder why i have a hard time waking in the morning,

or wonder why i have had an incredibly sore neck for weeks,

and i start to think something is wrong with me.

then i remember i have probably overbooked myself,

and given myself way too many expectations.

so now i need a break.

i need to make a break.

i need to break.

THIS I BELIEVE.

p.s. had a wonderful weekend: made a spontaneous little drive to UC-davis friday night to hear amy goodman interview a former guantanamo prisoner and a former guantanamo gaurd. truly an informative night that got ceej and i ready to be more active. went to the davis farmer's market and purchased the most lovely-smelling roses of all time. tried to knit another hat, but forgot how to start the thing! read about keats and began reading his letters. oh, heart! waited for ceej to return safely from skiing. ate indian food with cj. watched this informative documentary. listened to people's hearts. made a brave comment. folded oragami paper cranes to help a friend with her wedding in october. tried to start knitting that hat again...good thing i have knitting class today. ate a danish with ceej. went for lots of walks. hope you had a wonderful weekend!!

in autumn...

in autumn:

i want to walk down streets guarded by oaks
that are nearing 100-years-old.
i want to walk inside a home that is
at least 100-years-old.
i want leaves to pile up faster than
they can be gathered.

i want a scarf to wrap my neck
and a coat to button up.
i want grotesque sqaush to greet
me at front doors and back doors.
only boots for my toes on feet.

i want spice:
ginger, nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, and fennel.
i want pies of apple and pumpkin.
i want poe, grimm, shelley.
i want wind that strips and whispers.

i want fall, fall, fall.

photo by me. salt lake city. anyone recognize this house?

manifesto monday: paradox

over the weekend cj and i wandered out to the coast. we found ourselves a lovely bit of sand on the ocean to spend a few hours together while we took photos, read, and wrote. after we had been there for a couple of hours i realized that i had no idea what beach we were on...i didn't know its name. this anonymous beach offered me something wonderful: solitude and refuge. i realized how nice it was to not know where i was. i thought about this for a few moments then realized what a paradox this was for me: i am a soul who deeply believes in "place" and knowing everything about a land's history and its contemporary culture. how could i be enjoying such a generic beach scene with no name?
i began to think of all the paradoxes in my life: i admire people who are constantly engaged in wonderful activities and endeavors; i admire people who have perfected the art of being idle. i want to choose for myself; i love rules and boundaries. i like to plan ahead; spontaneity is bliss. i want to surround myself with like-minded souls; i love variety and diversity. i am a feminist; i love to bake and paint my nails. i want things to come easily; i value trials and hard work more than anything. i want to be comfortable; i seek discomfort. i own vegan/raw cookbooks; i own lots of baking cookbooks that are practically made with sugar themselves. politics and "reality" fascinate me; fairytales and imagination grip my heart.
you get the idea? i am a very inconsistent person indeed, full of paradoxes and contradictions, and i wouldn't have it any other way. for a few years now i have recognized the importance of opposition in all things...it has become my favorite way of learning and growing. so i was thrilled yesterday when i read an essay about paradox, and its unmatched power to help us become better people. Allow me to share just a bit of that essay with you:

"william blake, the great eighteenth-century poet, taught that 'without contraries there is no existence' and warned that 'whoever tries to reconcile [the contraries] seeks to destroy existence.' whatever it means that we will eventually see 'face to face,' now we can see only 'through a glass, darkly,' and we had better make the best of it."
-eugene england

i am oh so convinced that paradox is the way to discover the beauty in others and in ourselves. paradox isn't usually comfortable...so we must take a deep breath, sit with it, move through it, and allow it to teach us to love more deeply than we could have ever imagined. this i believe.

photo taken by me. march 2009.

goodbye summer!

i know. i should probably have more gratitude for the summer season...

afterall, that is when most people are able to grow gardens to feed themselves.

kids are out of school, free to play whenever and however they wish.

picnics are abundant and easy {if temperatures don't rise too high}.

camping in the highlands doesn't necessarily require 0-degree gear.

all of that is nice,

BUT...

i will not be sorry to miss the following about the summer season:

.sweating the moment i step out the door.

.wearing shorts. i don't care for shorts at all.

{can't wear a skirt because they're not biker-friendly}

.wearing the same 5 t-shirts over and over.

.feeling pressure, constantly, to fit well into a swimsuit.

.days so hot you cannot even use the oven.

.reassuring my cardigans and scarves that i do not choose to neglect them.

{believe me, i give them as much attention and use as i can}

.riding my bike ridiculously slow so as not to over-heat.

.sleeping with no sheets nor comfy down-blanky.

.not being able to hold hands with ceej on a walk, because the sweat from the heat is just too much for comfort!.

this weekend is, officially, the last weekend of summer.

i've mentally entered the autumn season...

though temperatures won't cool and leaves won't change color here until november.

like gardeners begin force their seeds to grow before the snow has melted,

i will force my sweaters and boots before the leaves begin to fall.

have a lovely last weekend of summer!

monday is the day i've been waiting for ALL year.

photos by me. lake powell. august 2009.

i wait for storms...then let them move through me...

are you sick of me talking of rainy days and gathering clouds? hopefully not. i could never tire of emotional weather. it wakes my soul. sunny days are quite mundane if you ask me. they ask nothing of you. it's too easy, don't you think? storms ask something of you. they make you stop to look up. they demand your listening attention with booms and rumbles. you must either slow down and stay in doors taking care of a stressed-out soul, or taking care of your abode because you've put that off too. if you decide to go out, you must prepare yourself: wellies, scarves, slickers, umbrellas. you must be deliberate when it storms. you either slow down to watch the sky and its rain hit the earth or you brave the storm and place yourself right in the middle of it all...feeling every bit of watery nourishment and every whip of the wind. this last weekend we had an unusual bit of cool weather and rain. i'm sad to see it end...we're headed back to 95+ degrees here. so mundane. so easy. nothing to watch, nothing to prepare for. i came across this verse written in the 18th century, and thought i'd share:

O, fearful people, fresh courage take

the clouds you so much dread

are big with mercy and shall break

in blessings on your head.

so lovely indeed. those clouds and storms always end with nourishment and harvest. wonderful things are storms.

this is a photo of me on a cloudy afternoon at our cabin up the weber.

these last few hours sure are dragging...but i'm not complaining

ceej is finally back home in the states tonight!

yipee!

i can hardly, hardly wait much longer.

two weeks is way too long, wouldn't you agree?

this weekend should be filled with:

lots of sleeping in

waffles & crepes for breakfast

staying in our pj's until noon

a couple of matinees {any suggestions?}

walks after dinners at our favorite places

stay-at-home movie nights

while eating things that are good for the heart, not necessarily good for the bod

this weekend will be bliss. for sure.

i may or may not be here tomorrow...

but i think i will

because i have soooo much to show you lately.

photo by me. lake powell 2009.