I would like to be here, today, with some rose petal jam and bread and some good company....by the time I am old, I will have been everywhere I want to visit.
Spring has sprung here in Philadelphia....the sun is shining, the light is strong and long, and thoughts of gardening are swimming through my mind. I am lucky and have a share in a community garden in my neighborhood, and am very excited that, finally, I will be able to start planting!
My vegetable garden in Austin....I miss my old house...
I cannot tell you how my disconnection from gardening whilst living here has disrupted my mood and sense of self.
I am feeling very indignant due to some situations that are happening that I cannot mention here, in the public sphere that is blogging. I have chosen to channel that indignation and resentment into gardening and silver- and gold-smithing. I have some seeds, some soil, and a new commission!
Me gusta mis jitomates!!!!
It feels, somehow, as if something has shifted here....either I have passed the point of no return, or it's as simple as the Sun has come back. I had no idea how I would be effected by Seasonal Affective Disorder, being that this is my first real experience of Northern winter...I am so used to sunshine all the time that I am not quite sure how to deal with it when it disappears.
I think that Philly especially emphasizes the malaise of winter because everything here is hard: stone, brick, no sun, all shade and grit. I went to work in the dark, and I left work in the dark, and never go outside for anything.
Last year, during lunch and during my prep period, I would work on native landscaping my school's grounds. I planted plants, sowed seeds, weeded, and pruned trees. Here in Philly, I constantly joke (with sadness in my heart) that there are no trees, no plants, not a lot of nature anywhere.
At the apex of Perpendicular Trail, Acadia National Park....
It has been a transition, bien sur! A transition that has made me aware of those environmental aspects that I need in my life for my own personal happiness.
The same veggie garden at the Haney House, East Austin
And a new jewelry commission to make meat cleavers out of silver......
Hamilton Pond, off Route 3...Mount Desert Island
There is a tipping point in experience, when you realize you finally moved past this hurdle you couldn't even identify, it was so hidden in the murk of your thoughts. Once I crossed that hurdle, identified it, saw it, and was able to step back and take a breath and say, "there you are!", nothing much is bothering me right now. In the moment, yes, but if I write about it, go to the studio and heat up some silver with an oxy-acetylene torch, make something with my two hands, choose seeds and think about how they will grow and change, read a book....I realize that all of this is transitory...time passes by so fast! If you don't stop to take a look around once in a while, or you might miss it....
Me, in England, with my Grandpa, at breakfast....almost 25 years ago...
I just started looking at the Tao Te Ching again, after many months of leaving it to gather dust on the shelf. I love this book, and especially my edition of it. I constantly read its passages and think about how they relate to my life. This one was the one that flipped open yesterday:
FORTY-EIGHT
In the pursuit of learning, every day something is acquired.
In the pursuit of Tao, every day something is dropped.
Less and less is done
Until non-action is achieved. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone.
The world is ruled by letting things take their course.
It cannot be ruled by interfering.
February is almost over!!! How did that happen? The days, they go by so fast.....
This morning, I am inspired. I have been in a nasty funk for the last two weeks; I can't explain it exactly, but that it left me annoyed and sometimes, even angry (not a typical state of mind for me). Something happened last night, when I decided to finally decorate the office room that has stagnated now for eight months...
The poop-brown walls still leave something cavernous to be desired; if I had my way, I'd paint this room a couple of shades of pink (I think it wants to be pink, somehow). It is, however, leaps and bounds better than it was.
Soon, I will begin to pack up this house, as the lease is ending and I am headed to points North for the summer, but before that happens, I wish to photograph it in detail. This house has many nooks and crannies that I have paid attention to and cultivated. I have very little understanding, however, of how to shoot interiors, so I am hoping someone comes along to help me.
This morning, I received my weekly Brainpickings.org mailing, and opened this only to realize it was exactly what I needed to read midway through my Sunday...
Clearly, I need to buy Henry Miller on Writing. Also, clearly, I have a bibliophiliac addiction....I need someone to come around who will supply me with books. I seriously could spend all my extra money on them. This book brings my ever-building Amazon shopping cart to twelve items, all absolutely integral to my present and future life.
Another gem provided by Mr. Miller in his book is the Daily Program:
" MORNINGS: If groggy, type notes and allocate, as stimulus.
If in fine fettle, write. AFTERNOONS: Work of section in hand, following plan of section scrupulously. No intrusions, no diversions. Write to finish one section at a time, for good and all. EVENINGS: See friends. Read in cafés. Explore unfamiliar sections — on foot if wet, on bicycle if dry. Write, if in mood, but only on Minor program. Paint if empty or tired. Make Notes. Make Charts, Plans. Make corrections of MS. Note: Allow sufficient time during daylight to make an occasional visit to museums or an occasional sketch or an occasional bike ride. Sketch in cafés and trains and streets. Cut the movies! Library for references once a week."
Taken from a traincar window in Jim Thorpe - Fall 2011
Last night, I spent the night in a very intense, introspective mood. I had been invited out by a couple of people, but felt a little under the weather, and so I stayed in. I dug out a white folder full of ephemera, dumped all the pieces onto a table, and went to work taping and arranging the pieces onto the walls of the office. I uploaded photos that had been sitting on my camera for months. I thought about what will come over the next few months, and all the changes that are already happening. Something switched from the frustration to acceptance, which I hope will begin to switch to joy sometime soon.
Sometimes, all we need is a night of time spent alone, with artwork, with music, with thoughts.
I love the combination of ice, rocks and bare winter trees
When I walk out here, I pretend that the beach belongs only to me (and whoever I am with!): it is a magical place and has been for as long as my family has been here
Ironstone, snow, ice
This week, we transition into March. March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb: spring begins, gardens are planted, the Sun returns. We may even feel some warmth by the end of this month! Soon comes spring break, then April will, no doubt, fly by. Then Mexico, then the end of school.........and then????
This video is breathtaking. Many years ago now, at the humble age of nineteen, I went on a two-month-long road trip out west with my boyfriend at the time. We spent all summer camping and climbing around the western part of the United States. We stayed in almost every national park from New Mexico to Washington, and stayed more outside than inside the walls of cheap hotels. We stopped in Yosemite for a couple of days on our way to drive the PCH north to Oregon. I remember camping in a beautiful little campground with lots of families. The sky was such a bright, deep blue it hurt your eyes. There was wildly coloured, flourescent green moss that grew all over the trees.
I have had to admit, lately, that I am not a city person. Becoming comfortable with the fact that I am a privileged woman who has had amazing opportunities come her way, and has always lived in beautiful places, has taken some time. I thought that, at least, I would try out city living and probably really like it. But the truth is, I really, really don't. I think my choices have to be: suburbs, small town/city, or country. I really need the trees, the dirt, grass, flowers, birds, squirrels, and space.
Today I spent the day at my friend's mom's house in the suburbs, in a town called Radnor. (Interesting fact: Radnor High School is the high school that Grease is based on!) I am so lucky to have the wonderful friends here that I do: to be adopted by three such lovely people....I don't know what I would have done had I not become friends with them! I feel like they are my Philly family....Anyway: Radnor is soooo beautiful: one of those old, east-coast suburban towns where all the houses are different and the countryside is amazingly sculpted to look organic when you know that someone pored over city planning documents for years to just get it right. We spent all day lounging in the living room, lesson planning and watching hockey. It made me so happy to look out the window and see leaves on the ground and a grove of winter-y trees.
This is what makes me happy! Surroundings that are beautiful and tranquil.
On that same trip out west twelve years ago, my favorite spot of the whole trip was Olympic National Park. We camped and backpacked there. There were ancient forests and giant banana slugs. There were cairns all over the beaches, and we saw a sea lion just lounging on the beach! We made campfires in washed up, giant logs, and played with tiny, red-orange crabs. We peered at anemones, and stared up at craggy, damp trees. We stood on the edge of a rushing river: its water bright, pure grey with the dust of rocks broken by the glaciers settled in the mountains above. The gravel-y ground was dark black, volcanic stone. The day was so damp, in that cool rainforest, that, just above our heads floated small tufts of cloud. The scene was deep green with trees, black with sand, grey with water, white with clouds. It was, still, the most beautiful place I have ever been. I will never forget it.
Change is afoot.....I have about two weeks to make it happen.
Side note: last week sometime, one of my students said: "Miss? Do you know what we used to think about you?" I said, "No....what was it?"He said, "That you are a mermaid!". I said, "A mermaid? Why would you think that?". "Well," he said, "you know! You always talk about the ocean and stuff and you have all this weird stuff around, and so we just thought you were a mermaid. But now we know you are just a teacher!"
So part of Putting Myself Fully Into It is to remember that magic happens. Sometimes the path that is before you can change in the blink of an eye, if you have the sense of responsibility to do what needs to be done to make the path reach the end. If you have the sense of belief that good things DO happen, if you think that you deserve happiness and that all the other things will just fall into place.
Putting Myself Fully Into It is remembering that, to some people, the people that really matter, the people whose lives I am truly dedicated to, I am a mermaid. A magical lady who lives in the ocean, with beautiful songs to sing to many, many, different kinds of people.
And so....there you are.
This is important for me to remember......
This is my current theme song....a song to carry me through
Lately, I have been helping my friend Allison set up her new studio in Philadelphia! Located on Pine Street, otherwise known as my favorite street in Philly, this new-to-her studio used to be a painter's studio and comes with much love and history. I am so excited that she is letting me work there and have an interim studio space in the city.
Allison used to have the gallery Zuzu, in Collingswood, New Jersey, but now Zuzu is moving!!! Come to see us soon....I am happy to report that more jewelry will be appearing soon....
Many changes are on the horizon. I am filling out my FAFSA as we speak, the summer is shaping up beautifully, as is the fall!
Seven days are not long enough in Maine....I didn't even see some of the people I wanted to see, but these last few days have been full of thoughts, plans, work and decisions.
Now I head back to Philadelphia with a plan, so it's less scary. More to come soon......but suffice it to say: beauty lies along the horizon....
Grizzly Bear - On a Neck, On a Spit
My last few posts have been too vague for my comfort level and I aim to fix that this weekend.......
I just turned off all the lights at my parents house; just the first floor, I suppose, since the second floor lights were already out and rooms full of sleeping people and animals. I walked out onto the porch in my mom's super thick and protective winter coat, boots, gloves, scarf and hat, because it is three degrees out there.
Three!
Three is when your body feels really tight and rigid and you can really only think about how strange it is to feel that cold anywhere exposed to the cold while the rest of you feels just fine.
Anyway: I stepped out on my porch and stared up and rapidly pulled in a breath in awe. The amount of stars, numerically, is incredible! But the sizes, too, are mind-boggling: some small and some large, some white and some yellow or copper or blue. Some constellations tiny and compressed, some large and extending for what must be trillions and trillions of miles.
Orion stood out to me tonight. I could see his belt and his knife, but that is not impressive. I could also see every point on the wooden part of his bow, as if I could just lay a real one on top of the stars and fit the curve perfectly. I saw his hands, his wrist, the bend of his elbow and the shape of his arm. I could see his head and hair, his feet, legs, and of course, the dogs laying underneath him. I could see many other constellations, too, but Orion stood out tonight.
Three degrees!
Wow.
It is so beautiful, outside in the cold, when you look around and see the cozy, warm glow of the houses against the stark black night studded with millions of stars. Looking out to the northwest, you can see the twinkle of lights of other houses across the bay, and the way that the sky is reflected onto the surface of the ocean. You can see trees reaching their naked fingers up into the sky. The only sound is the occasional car on Route 3 or sometimes, the twisting noises of tree trunks twisting in the wind.
I wished, a few minutes ago, that I could sit on the snow. But, three degrees is cold and the stars will be there again tomorrow.
