My Project Runway addiction...

Season 7 begins in fifteen minutes and I can hardly wait!

It is always exciting to see the new characters, to pick the ones that immediately stand out, and, of course, see the amazing Tim Gunn. This is coming from a pretty big non-TV watcher (although I am also slightly addicted to The Office. But I watch that on Netflix.) so it is impressive that I will sit through the advertisements to watch PR.

I think my fascination with this show comes from my deep down dream of being able to design clothes and then make them by hand. My childhood drawings of models in my imagined designs are still stored some where in my parents house. I still buy fashion magazines. I covet designer labels I find at thrift stores, even if the garments don't fit right, just because it has a famous tag. Clothes are like a dirty secret to me, something I would secretly like to be more wild with, more daring, more...fashionable. And I think that maybe, through watching PR, I am attempting to access that part of myself, to still feel like that little girl drawing on her bedroom floor.

Have to go... I can't miss Heidi!

Communication

Once I get going, I think that I can be a pretty good talker, a sharer, a communicator. It is just that space before the words, the moments when everything is in my head, still silent, not out in the air, in someone else's ears.

I am not sure what the hesitation is--disappointment, fear, uncertainty, not wanting to hurt others. All qualities that occasionally keep me from being true to myself, from speaking my own heart.

It is my biggest struggle. My biggest obstacle in life. And I am determined to work on it. I am going to change how I look at it....struggle no more...obstacle no more....rather, it is an opportunity to find a side of myself that is new, even at the ripe age of 31, a time to be curious and explorative, brave and powerful.

It is an exhilarating goal.

My grateful's for today:
1. My friendship with J
2. My friendship with R
3. That the day was warmer and almost balmy
4. My wood stove
5. That there were tasty, nutritious leftovers in the fridge for dinner.

Diamonds in the Morning Air...

How to hold onto the peacefulness of morning, when the mind hasn't totally woken up to began its whirring and the details of the day haven't reached such a magnitude that everything else becomes secondary? Walking up Cache Creek this morning the air looked like it was made up of diamonds. Snow particles hung in the air, catching the new light and twinkling. It was beautiful. And I had time to notice.

I must like having my days packed. Who doesn't have busy schedules though? Sometimes I think that so much is lost because there are so many emails to write, phone calls to make, conversations to have, and situations to deal with...all very important. But all so NOT important. Priorities need to be shifted in my daily life and I am having a hard time knowing how to make that a reality.

An end to a tired day. I think that Olive and I will go to bed and wake up more alert to keeping that morning feeling of bewilderment and peace. Olive always wakes up that way though...

Running at Night with Olive

After a long day spent taking down and putting up a trampoline and "spotting" young children from falling off said trampoline, I came home to my poor neglected dog, whose big brown eyes said only one thing: take me for a walk. So we did, under a full black sky of stars, the Big Dipper hanging above the Elk Refuge. Mars glowed red in front of us, acting as our street light since the one that borders Broadway and the Elk Refuge seemed to be out. Olive was a leash free dog, allowed to run and romp and sniff. And although it was maybe fifteen minutes, the smile on her face upon our return was priceless.

A good message that the small things, even a short walk, can be such gifts.
Thank you Olive, yet again.

I think that watching Julie & Julia last night inspired me to be a blogger again. Something about writing on the internet and later becoming a published author is just dreamy. Also, I am reading The Right to Write by Julia Cameron and her words are hitting me hard. This can be applied to any art form I think:

"...When I am trying to think something up, I am straining. When, on the other hand, I am focused about just getting something down, I have a sense of attention but not a sense of strain. Another way to think of it is that writing is the art of taking dictation, not giving it.  When I listen to what I hear and simply jot that down, the flow of ideas is not mine to generate but to transcribe. When, on the other hand, I struggle to write, it is because I am trying to speak on the page rather than listen there."

She goes on to talk about how by listening, a lot of the ego disappears. There is a degree of separation from the work, where curiosity and amazement take charge, and the "me" steps aside. I like that idea in regards to writing, but also painting, drawing, sculpting...the list goes on.

What else inspired me today?

I opened up an old yogurt container that I had made papier mache paste in for Alice in Wonderland in December and this is what I found:

So amazing, so beautiful (if a little smelly). And it totally reaffirmed my love for all things organic :)

A New Year...A New Approach to Blogging

I was going to post daily, starting on January 1. That has not happened, but I am determined to start now and keep my daily happenings, thoughts, ideas, inspirations recorded...

Instead, it is January 9 and I am sitting in the warm house (thank you wood stove), enjoying Olive and our still present Christmas tree, decorated with white lights. Jamie is in D.C. I have the house to myself. I am making art.

Events from the past nine days:

--walking the Prospect Park loop with Bryn and enjoying the swans and ducks who were surviving in a half-frozen pond

--enjoying the late night life of NYC with good friends and fine scotch

--feeling inspired by Chelsea and the myriad of talent that resides there

--the gratitude I felt towards taxi drivers, airplane pilots, and airport employees for making my travel back West possible

--the hero's welcome from Olive and the hug from Jamie

--cooking dinners

--seeing my co-workers and feeling like I was home.

--enjoying the climbing gym once again

--working out with my Tuesday group

--enjoying friends company, with great food, good conversations, and two new skirts (one Marc Jacobs) from Vanessa

--a great art show at Shades by Dennis Sanders

And these are just some of the gifts....

This morning Jamie and I pulled ourselves out of bed and, much to our dogs delight, packed up the ski gear. The hike up Glory was fabulous--clear, crisp air, blue sky, the feeling of sun on my back, my pace perfect and steady. It felt good to be skiing again, even if I did feel less than graceful....

Hearing my own breath

Today was about breathe. 

Running through soft snow, big flakes falling down, trees blanketed, dog chasing squirrels, my breathe accompanying me, rising as I went up hills and falling strongly as I went down. The snowy, wet world and the sound of my inhale and exhale. 

Yoga class. We cupped our hands around our ears and listened to the ocean inside us, the rhythm of our innerness, the sound of nature that resides inside. The simplicity of such an act mixed with profound wonderment, like that of a child who holds a shell to their ear for the first time, when you hear the water, the waves, the beat of liquid against sand.

My breathe will guide me to sleep tonight and will wake me in the morning.