good idea

This list is brilliant.

Everything this woman does inspires me.

seasons bleatings

Yesterday I caught myself thinking, “Halloween and Thanksgiving? Check! Only Christmas remains to conquer.”

Terrible, I know.

I love fall and winter. I love the holidays that are an inseparable part of them. What I don’t like is the way my mind goes into checklist-mode and how preparing for Christmas turns into an unfeeling, eternally long obligatory to-do list all topped off with a shiny layer of hurry.

I’m wondering how to enjoy this season more. Any ideas?

#31

Me and watercolor. It is so on.

I am two classes into a four-class course and up to my eyeballs in ideas, books, paints and love for this medium.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here's wishing everybody a happy and relaxed Thanksgiving.

We've got a fun-filled day planned: running in the local Turkey Trot, enjoying a delicious (chicken!) dinner at home (just the three of us) and then meeting up with a large group of friends for dessert and goodness in the early evening.

wild geese ~ by mary oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

rush

I was in a rush today - equal parts frenzy, exhaustion, necessity and, um, Thanksgiving.

There was a torn portfolio to exchange, books to schlep to and from the library, a fresh chicken to retrieve from the butcher and an almost 4-mile run to complete. All this to do before nap at 1 p.m. And really I just wanted to take a hot shower, put on something comfy and lounge with a pile of books.

When it came time to run, I was reluctant. I love running but I've been running long enough to know that there are seasons in my running just as there are seasons in life. I am in a slow, reluctant season. At these times, I know that just starting is enough to get me to the finish.

So, I started running. Slowly. Pushing the stroller along the path that borders water and trees.


And that was when I noticed the family of six turtles sunning themselves. Another turtle was swimming steadily, head just peaked above the water's surface. We stopped to watch. We counted 14 turtles.

A half mile down the path my eye discerned something smooth and elegant amidst the sharpness of newly nude autumn trees: a heron stalking its prey.

Again, we stopped. The heron moved slowly, placing its legs with purpose, stealthily tilting its head. Until, finally, it snatched a fish from the water. We watched the fish protest, arch from side to side. And then the heron tossed the small fish down its throat. And we sat watching the fish pulse down the heron's throat. The heron continued its search for lunch out of our view. And we continued our run.

There was more, of course: a mosaic of leaves on the trail, too many squirrels to count, calls of "Happy Thanksgiving" from passersby, the smell of the air, the arch of the bridges over the canal, more.

I wonder... what if I had been eager to run on this day? Too busy getting my miles in to notice the beauty surrounding me. I love how sometimes my body automatically slows amidst the rush.

#19

I can cross #19 off The List.

Saturday, after conquering an obstacle course of metro stations, taking three wrong turns, ascending and descending eternally long escalators (the longest ones in the metro system), dealing with a "stripped" fare card, avoiding drunken football revelers and a swarm of people on the Mall for a march and navigating the diagonal roads of D.C., while lugging a 20-pound messenger bag and my over-sized watercolor portfolio, I spent 30 precious minutes in the Rothko Room at the Phillips Collection.

The Rothko Room is a small room with four walls with a large color field painting by Rothko on each wall. A small (uncomfortable) bench is in the middle of the room.

Rothko's idea in creating this room was to give viewers a chance to view his paintings in a more familiar setting, that is, in a room that is more family-like, literally. The scale of the room was not unlike an average living room. It was far from the spacious, soaring space of most art galleries. The effect is immediate intimacy.

And, it was lovely. I had to move around a lot for my eyes to really see. And sometimes I'd walk out of the room to refresh my eyes before diving back in to see more.

When I was finished looking, my eyes were saturated.

I didn't even try to look at the rest of the collection: my eyes were already full.

my name is memory

I just finished devouring "My Name is Memory" by Ann Brashares and I am urging you to read it. Now.

Reserve it at your library or order it online. Whatever it takes, this is a book that must be read.

Yes, it's fiction. Yes, it's a love story. Usually these two facts would be enough to deter me from reading a book. However, a large theme in this book is about souls, how they develop, how they grow, how they change. And while I don't believe in reincarnation, I do love the ideas and thoughts that this book has ushered into my life.

I am all about new ideas.

apple days

We've been on an applesauce kick over here: eating and making it. Here's our favorite recipe.

20 apples - we're using a mix made mostly of courtland with a few granny smith and macoun (I think?) thrown in - we take what the farmer's market provides
2 T. cinnamon
1/4 c. turbinado sugar
1/4 c. brown sugar
2 T. vanilla extract
1 c. water

Peel and dice apples. Combine apples with remaining ingredients. Simmer until soft. Use immersion blender to smooth until you achieve the desired consistency.

We keep about 4 cups in the fridge and then freeze the rest in quart-size ziplocs after the applesauce has cooled.

you just need guts

"And I intend to live completely all of the fabric that exists inside me. I want to use it up because I want to be finished... People die and take with them their internal buried treasure... It is the most cursed treasure of all because you never reap its reward. You can never spend it. But I'm beginning to really enjoy spending the treasure inside me. I'm going to blow every penny before I'm finished because all I want in this life is to get rid of everything. All my accumulated love and knowledge is going out and continues to go out. I want to be empty. I want to give everything back. And you can do this, too. You just need guts!" ~ Rudranada

rothko redux

I almost didn't go to see the "In the Tower: Mark Rothko" display at the National Gallery of Art (east building). I am an ardent lover of his work; particularly his color block pieces. I love the rich, layered colors and the emotions that they elicit. Particularly, he captures emotions that I have no words for. And that is why I love his work.

So when I discovered that I'd be able to catch a special display of his work, I was ecstatic. Until I discovered that the featured works on display were the series of black (depressing black!) paintings originally created for a Catholic chapel in Houston.

I teetered back and forth about taking the time and making the effort to visit the exhibit until I read that these paintings are seldom displayed.

I went.

And I just sat on the various benches and let myself soak in, or more accurately, be soaked in. Because these paintings, they draw you in. You look at them and forget where you are and what you were thinking about 10 seconds ago. They open up and they swallow you in.


It was remarkable, worth the effort, the energy, the time. I shiver a bit when I think how close I came to blowing off this opportunity.

I didn't take any pictures because there was no point. With his color paintings a photograph is enough to recall the feeling of standing in front of one of his behemoth paintings. At this exhibit, the subtle variations of black, ebony black, midnight black, deep brown, charcoal gray - there would be no way to capture those subtleties. I knew better.

The program asks viewers to "question the simple equation of darkness and despair and to re-imagine blackness as a medium of light - nuanced, expansive, and even hopeful." Go ahead. You have until January 2011.

(P.S. They have some of his swoony color block paintings on the concourse level!)

before i turn 33

I am a girl who loves a list. And since my birthday was last week it's high time to post this year's "before I turn XY" list. This is my fourth list and each time I make one I get better at fine-tuning and completing it. It's a gift to myself - planning what I want to focus my time and energy on in the coming year.


1. read the Old Testament
2. attend art camp with my girl
3. tour Washington National Cathedral
4. read "Grammatical Choices, Rhetorical Effects"
5. explore paper cut (words, scenes, collages)
6. submit quilt essay to 5 markets
7. visit Monticello
8. learn some basic French words and phrases
9. create and sell mixed paper journals
10. make the Ann & Andy dolls for NS
11. practice italic writing
12. sample 12 different types of olives from the olive bar
13. blog regularly
14. attend Pony Penning Days
15. explore bookbinding: spiral, text block
16. knit poncho for NS
17. visit Pope-Leighey house
18. organize my recipe collection in white binder
19. visit the Phillips Collection
20. read the Nikon D70 camera manual - finally!
21. take a trip to Maine!
22. bind NS's polaroids into a book
23. read six works of Shakespeare (with annotations)
24. purchase UI alumni license plate frame
25. make NS a tipi
26. attend National Book Festival (in September)
27. attend Virginia Festival of the Book (in March)
28. take a private tour of Gettysburg
29. take NS to the National Zoo
30. tour the Library of Congress
31. take a watercolor class
32. visit the National Gallery of Art to view Rothko
33. work through "Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain" or
take a drawing class

I've already completed #18 and #32. #18 was not so remarkable, it just took some serious chair time. #32 was remarkable and worth sharing. I promise more details soonish.

What's on your list?

view from my deck

so every day ~ by mary oliver

So every day
I was surrounded by the
beautiful crying forth
of the ideas of God,

one of which was you.

a proper thank you

So. When I went to check my mail today I noticed this fabulous box from Amazon. And my first thought was (honestly) about those people who take sleeping pills and then do really weird things in the wee hours of the night. Like eating a gallon of ice cream (sign me up) or walking across town or doing the laundry or shopping online. Well, I've been really tired lately, though I HAVE NOT been taking any sleeping pills. But the thought that maybe, just maybe I was shopping online in the middle of the night, buying really cool things instead of worrying about the budget (barf) got me really excited. I started wondering what other long-coveted items would appear on my doorstep, what other goodies I was ordering at 3 am. I got so excited. I was really thrilled that I was just letting loose a bit. This whole thought took about .5 seconds.

And then I just felt the heft of that glorious package in my hand, admired that pleasing shade of cardboard brown and thought to myself, "Houser."

Thank you. It was totally unnecessary to purchase music for my family, but we are totally appreciative that you did. Thank you.