Now I become myself. It's taken time, many years and places...

 - May Sarton

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Friday
Mar232012

hello there

  

In January I spent four weeks in a hotel at the base of the Santa Catalina mountains in Tucson where my mother had back surgery, and each day those mountains lifted me up. Bud and Rave came to get me when it was time to come home and we took a short side trip to the red rocks of Sedona. I made an early morning pilgrimage to the cathedral where I have been many times since I was a girl, each time moved by the depth of nature's beauty around me. We drove home in strange snowdrops on Valentine's day and picnicked on scrumptious "I can't believe this is really gluten free" carrot cake along the way. 

 

 

Since then I have been moon camping in Malibu in a green VW bus, the ultramarine night aglow and my loved ones by my side. Bud read This Side of Paradise aloud and my thoughts drifted like firedust. I fell asleep to the rush of waves and rustle of sycamore leaves. I awoke to morning coffee and the combined nudge of sunshine and a dog ready to look for squirrels.

 

 

Recently I spent a few rainy days in the Pacific Northwest gathering with a small group of creative women I adore. Each morning I sat in the wicker rocker at the edge of my bed and peered out the window incredulously at the bald eagle nesting in the branches of a nearby fir. Poetry, painting, the flicker of candlelight, and laughter long into the night...

 

 

How are things in your corner of the world? I'd love it if you'd leave a link letting me know what you've been up to.

 

 

Friday
Jan062012

documentary of what is now

 

i may have to fly over arid hesitation

in parched and shadowed silence.

 

in such a half spent moment

vocabularies of more than a hundred miles

will not save me.

 

i come back to this:

 

the prowling moon of prayers ignited

on the incantation of acceptance,

 

the sea-stars of midnight

clasped in your sun-browned hands.

 

Sunday
Jan012012

map of what is effortless*

When we lived in New York in the fall of 1999 we were fortunate to catch a retrospective of Francesco Clemente's work at the Guggenheim. He's held a spot in my heart ever since. (A portrait of his wife Alba is amongst my favorites.) I only recently came upon this interview and appreciated it so much I thought I'd share it here.

 

* Map of What Is Effortless

 Alba

 Skin

Thursday
Dec292011

here i dreamt of quill pens and stamped beeswax

 

                                    * shot with an old Polaroid SX-70 with expired 600 film

 

I spent a day and a half in this intimate bookstore while in Paris. It was one of my most anticipated and relished experiences. This bohemian haven has a vivid history and multitudinous shelves lined with new and used books side by side. Most are in English though I did pick up a paperback of Colette's Duo in French to amble through over time. I sat in the lending library upstairs with an ancient copy of Leaves of Grass in a worn tobacco hued leather chair while the bells of Notre Dame chimed over the street and through the open window. After a bit I'd take a break and walk to the cafe around the corner for a cappuccino, an omelette au fromage (with dijon mustard) and salade verte. Then I'd return and peruse the half price books in open steamer trunks and old suitcases on the sidewalk in front of the store, carefully deciding which to take to the cashier to be hand stamped with their insignia and added to my own modest library far away.

 

The Bookshop has a thousand books,

All colors, hues and tinges,

And every cover is a door

That turns on magic hinges.

-Nancy Byrd Turner

 

Wednesday
Dec282011

the solitude is animated but not broken *

 

 

 

   

Our current record rotation:

Talking Heads - Fear of Music

Leonard Cohen - Songs of Leonard Cohen

Johnny Cash -  Greatest Hits Vol. 1

Iron & Wine - Our Endless Numbered Days

Ravi Shankar - India's Master Musician

 

*  "The solitude is animated but not broken."

From May Sarton's Journal of a Solitude on time spent in blessed company.