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. 

Advent Calendar

For the last three years, my mom has sent her art across many miles, in a discarded wine box, always in time for December 1. My mom's creativity amazes and inspires me anyway and for the month of December I am especially in admiration. The excitement of childhood to discover what is behind little paper doors each day has carried over to adulthood...

I pulled off the cardboard that separates the two layers of images to be met with Olive's little face, replicated in watercolor. Underneath each mini-painting is a little gift, sometimes marked with and "A", sometimes a "J", and, most always, little treats for the beloved grand-dog. 

Olive and Jamie get just as excited as I do to see what each day holds. Olive eagerly shoves her nose into the box,  finding the days that hold presents for her. 

Although the box has traveled almost all the way across the country, it makes me feel close to home, to Maine, and to both my parents. Dad's influence and artistry is also present, coming in the form of mini Nepalese prayer flags and a handmade wooden puzzle, carved by his own hands.

It makes me realize, even more deeply, where my own love for creativity comes when I see the talents that both my parents possess.

The Joy of Learning

Tonight was my first Illustrator class.  Having not been in school for seven years, I forgot how wonderful it is to sit and be taught something, to soak in knowledge that you previously did not know.  I got a taste of this a little over a year ago, when I was thinking about acupuncture school and took a biology class. After working for eight hours I would go sit in a classroom and just be wide awake as I learned about the human body, the make-up of organisms, and the stages of the earth's development. I felt the same way tonight as John, our young architect instructor, walked us through just some of the many tools in Illustrator.  Suddenly I could picture myself as a designer, could see being creative in front of a computer screen.  Moments like that give me hope that I am on the right path...that through exploration of the things that interest me some greater occupational knowledge will occur. That one morning I will wake up just knowing that I am meant to be....It is also a good lesson to live each day and listen to those little urges that make you take a class, try a new sport, go up a new trail, read a new book. The lessons are daily and they all lead you somewhere.

Pods

I am obsessed with pods, in nature and in art. The shapes, the textures, the colors, what can be hidden inside.  

I came around the corner of the Emerson Center in Bozeman and saw this pod light hanging over a large table, housing a light bulb that allowed it to glow. I was immediately taken with it and took photos so that one day I can replicate it. Getting rid of the ugly chandeliers that hang above my dinner table and hallway is on the what-I-want-to-do- with my-house list....I think pods (at least one) would be a good addition.

The Emerson Center for Arts & Culture is amazing and I can't believe that in the five years I have been visiting Bozeman I have never been there. It is an old high school, the one Jamie went to his senior year, and it still has the feel, smell, creaks, and rooms of a school.  There is a theater (Martin Sexton had just played there), public art gallery spaces, and artists studios, many of which act as work areas and shops.  I loved the Emerson and wish that our own Jackson Center for the Arts had a little of it's grittiness and local flavor. Check it out at www.theemerson.org