a week of sensory goodness

~driving down eucalyptus lined roads in marin county in the rain. the smell of those trees was so powerful!
~cold water and hot sand on bare feet in santa cruz
~the sand caught up in the wind hitting my legs on ocean beach. it hurt, but in an 'its good to be alive' kind of way
~the voices of the seals by the wharf yelping in the morning
~hot sun on bare shoulders
~the taste of the roast chicken at chez panisse. i can't even describe it. best chicken i've ever tasted!
~the smell of stumptown coffee brewing this morning (thanks to my portland visitors)

home

back home in my self today. like a lil' snail in its shell.

the life preserver, the ladder and the boat

feeling really quiet today. tender and raw. far from the girl skipping down sunny streets.
but i'm working my way back to her.

sometimes we get a reminder of how far we've come. though it doesn't feel like it at this moment, i do know that i'm no longer the girl i was, even if other people in my life still treat me like i was her. sometimes i forget how to say 'don't treat me like that' or 'no' but its true that the time between reaction and action gets smaller the more you practice standing up for yourself.

but i touch my cheek like the sweetheart i need to believe in. like the love that i so yearn for and the love that is already here in abundance.

elizabeth gilbert wrote that "i was the administrator of my own rescue". i am that too. but i threw myself overboard for these last few days, forgetting that i am the life preserver, the ladder and the boat. so i'm drying myself off and trying to find the words of this story that needs changing.

the same wind

The same wind that uproots trees makes the grasses shine

As the sun is coming out more, i'm finding myself venturing into the city with my pretty walking shoes. I'm covering lots of ground these days, trying to make sure I do everything, see everything that I want to before its time to go North again. There is so much gorgeous graffiti and mural pieces in alleys throughout the mission. I feel like its an experiential art gallery, this city.

I love that quote on the mural. I was once an uprooted tree yet now I feel like the shiniest of grasses. Its the same wind. Its the same essential experience of living. I'm grateful for it all these days.

When He Sings

When he sings I travel.

I'm on the front porch of my old house watching a tornado come to take it all away. A fire jumper who was one few who survived, a family hiding in the woods, a tired trucker hoping to get to the next motel safely. I'm a heartbroken mary magdelene, a soldier waist deep in mud with a shouting captain, a grandfather thinking of the grandchild he doesn't know, the first day of spring after a very long winter.

Sometimes I'm back in my own history. I'm on a couch curled up with a friend listening to this song, holding onto one another for dear life as we knew we likely wouldn't see each other again. I'm looking out a road-trip car window at northern ontario forests passing by and singing loudly with my fellow travelers. I'm at a concert, sitting in the same row as my first love and their new partner and i'm trying desperately to pay attention to the music and not think about them. I'm lonely on the bus in the depths of my sadness, crying into my lap listening to this one. I'm in the california sunshine walking under plum blossoms and thinking that his songs sounds like a sunset.

Without a doubt, Richard Shindell is the best songwriter I have ever heard. Each song is like a memoir of someone's life, or at least a moment or two of it. And I travel into his songs in the way that I do into a book. Where it almost feels like its my own memory.

Today I found out that he has a new album out, which has me doing a happy dance and totally made my day...

Then again, sliding down a gigantic concrete slide on a cardboard box 20 plus times and squealing with joy wasn't too shabby of a highlight of today either!

one of the loveliest days i've lived

i can't really pin point why. partly the gorgeous sunshine, the multitude of flowers, the many miles i walked, how good i felt in my lovely new dress, the way people smiled, the happy thoughts. it wasn't really different than any other day but every minute of it just filled up my heart even more.

here's a glimpse of it:

the magnolia love affair continues

this love affair has been going on for years, but this year its magnitude has been unreal. i can't get enough of them. i can't tell you how many times i've said "that is the most beautiful magnolia tree i've ever seen". every one is more beautiful than the last. tonight at sunset i came across one that truly glowed pink magic.

i've been a bit less chatty these days, both in my daily life and in blog-land. i can often be found in garden patches, inches away from flower petals armed with my lovely macro lens. i find it so fulfilling to see what beauty happens between the what i see through the lens and what the camera captures. its so often far more magical than the eye can see.

i've got some things up my sleeve, some wide-eyed dreams and plans and a whole lot of tales of creative adventures to share (including using a skateboard as a canvas and learning how to make van dyke brown prints). i also just got home from checking out the oakland art murmur and feel super inspired. but i've got sore feet from another long walk and tired eyes from a day well lived. but rather than be silent, i thought i'd serenade you with a few more floral views.

and i'm curious your muse is these days? what makes your camera (pen, paint brush, loom, knitting needles) sing its loudest heartsong?