Quest by Quotation

The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. Henry David Thoreau

Often we don't get the full picture of our daily lives unless we step away from the routine. How have you stepped away this summer? What perspective have you gained? What do you count as star-dust or a bit of a rainbow?


Beyond the Rainbow

Marty and I were married on one of the hottest days DC had seen, 99 or a 100 degrees depending on who you ask, 100% humidity. The record wasn't broken until this year, the same time we decided to celebrate our anniversary by going to Charleston, SC for a few days. We had been to Charleston before, together and separately, and so expected to leisurely stroll the streets without feeling like we had to scurry around and see all the highlights. Rising early each morning to beat the heat, we wandered the streets and snuck through alleyways, taking pictures of gardens behind walls, lush window boxes, and colorful architecture. We stopped in art galleries to cool off, be inspired and, unexpectedly, discovered dappled dachshunds, coton de tulears (a small breed from Madagascar) and teddy bear yorkies. Who knew we would get warm fuzzie bundles of fur with our art? A little surprise, like a rainbow on a stormy afternoon. It is easier to see the surprises of life when you are on vacation just as it is easier to ponder your life if you aren't plodding through the daily routine.

I believe we look at Thoreau's bit of rainbow in our hands, and are blind to what our daily lives really amount to in the scheme of things. If we are blessed, we see the star-dust and rows of color. But often we just see dust and the rain. Conversely, sometimes we need to see the rain and the dust but fool ourselves into believing things are beautiful and hunky dory! In either case, that is where stepping away and examining our lives is so fruitful.

Charleston was what a mini-vacation was supposed to be: a time away to "regroup" as Marty said and see what "the daily harvest" truly is, as Thoreau implies. It also was a metaphor as we looked at the "Rainbow Row" of houses that Charleston is famous for. Somehow they just weren't as wonderful as we remembered, given that we had also seen the Painted Ladies of San Francisco. The Row was far better in our mind than in real life.

Our perspective had changed based on new travel experiences and time. We weren't dissatisfied with Rainbow Row, but it no longer was our most favorite landmark. Kind of how our satisfaction with our daily lives changes, given time and experience. For me, this trip reminded me that a great $100 meal can be made at home for less than ten...if I would take the time to cook! A $10,000 painting is wonderful but so is a picture taken by one's talented husband and put on display. Days of vacationing in a city whose historic district reminds us of Europe are wonderful but the routine of daily life has its own rewards upon returning home. Yet, the vacation time away and distance gave me the space to think about getting back in the working world and what that would entail.

Glad for the time away to ponder. Glad to be back to move forward. Glad for the daily routine and for the changes needing to be made in it so the stardust reveals the stars and the bit of rainbow becomes the full arch.

Distress-INK Week

Quest by Quotation

Whatever creativity is, it is in part a solution to a problem. Brian Aldiss
When you find yourself in distress, what do you do to get yourself out of the mood? What would happen if you turned to your craft, your writing, your garden in these times?


Its Distress-INK...

Last week I sent out four sympathy cards, all for tragic losses. This week started with the death of my only uncle, after an illness and downhill slide that was eerily similar to that of my mother's two and a half years ago. My sisters and I are sending flowers but, once again, I am compelled to dig out my paper bits, glue, and stamps to say what pre-made sympathy cards never seem to say.

In the midst of all this card making, I discovered "distress-inks" which create an aged look to paper. Ironic name, huh? I admit it, if there is a new technique involving paper, I am in. I crumpled paper, stamped and swished the colors of a teabag and faded rose over quotes about the calm beneath the stormy seas to add to a Victorian era picture of a cloudy day at the beach. It always amazes me how I can get involved in my projects, usually after forcing myself when I am in a bad or depressed state, and come up for air an hour later with a clear head and sense of peace.

Creativity will always be a part of my solution to life's problems (thank you Mr. Aldiss). Creativity doesn't make my challenges disappear but it does remind me that there is more to life than struggle or death or the emptiness of boredom.

Paradise Postponed

Quest by Quotation
Traveling is a fool’s paradise. Our first journeys discover to us the indifference of places. At home I dream that at Naples, at Rome, I can be intoxicated with beauty and lose my sadness. I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the stern fact, the sad self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Where do you travel in your mind when you want to escape reality for a while? Have you found your paradise while traveling or been disappointed in the reality of the place? How can you travel with realistic expectations?

Hawaii is "dead to me" in the words of that infamous comic conservative Stephen Colbert. The first time I didn't get there was two days after 9/11. The latest was when an important project of mine was scheduled the same time as my husband's business trip out there to discuss power plant projects. I won't tell you about the four other times in between. Paradise once again has been postponed. In my mind, Hawaii is a place I will only see in my mind and my husband's digital pictures on-line.

Quite a few of my friends have traveled recently only to have "triptus interruptus." The first time I was hit with the disease was when bacteria-laden clams invaded my system in Rockport Massachusetts. Need I say more? A friend went hiking in the Cascades and broke her foot. More than likely we all have travel horror stories but, even more common for us, I think, are the travel burden stories when the mental baggage outweighs the suitcases we have crammed full. A friend went to Hawaii, burdened with the knowledge that her beloved pet was gravely ill. Another friend went on sabbatical to Italy and through the US with her daughter, a young adult but always your child, struggling with illness at home. Some situations and people just don't get left behind at the airport security gate or at home or work.

I told my husband I couldn't travel before my event was pulled off because I would worry as much there as I would at home and it wouldn't be a vacation for me - even if it was in paradise. Little did I know I echoed Emerson. As someone experienced in taking retreats, I know the value of getting away. I also know the value of realizing a change in location will not change one's mind and soul, only allow the freedom to potentially change perspective. So for this week, I will head out to my deck and the hummingbirds on the wave petunias, assessing my burdens, pondering my choices, and being glad to see the bit of paradise in my own backyard.

The Art of Friendship

Quest by Quotation

It is commonly said by farmers, that a good pear or apple costs no more time or pains to rear, than a poor one; so I would have no work of art, no speech, or action, or thought, or friend, but the best. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival. ~C.S. Lewis

What creative hobbies or interests bind you to your friends? How would creativity help you to make new friends?

Saturday I went to Seagrove N.C., home of a community of potters, with one friend. Wednesday was Wilmington and the discovery of a wonderful wood themed shop, Barouke, full of everything wooden from jewelry to furniture with another. Friday was Cedar Creek Gallery, wood, pottery and glass, in Raleigh with yet another friend.

I had decided last week that I needed a mental health break and gallivanting around North Carolina seeking inspiration from the artists scattered about seemed the way to take a "mini- vacation." Also soothing my soul was the presence of good friends. My friends are all different, though we are about the same age. However, I marveled over and over at the blessing of companions who appreciate beauty and creativity in others, linger over the smoothness of fired clay or comment on the colors of glazes, wonder at the idea to turn wood fence posts into vases, or appreciate the garden flowers and art in front of a shop.

My writing friends, Emerson and Lewis, note that both friendship and art are things we must cultivate in order to have a full life, one with greater meaning than mere survival. I am fortunate to be surrounded by those who help make my life better by their own creativity, insight, and appreciation for the beauty created by others. For one who believes that God resides in each one of us, in our souls, I know the Creator resides in my friends.

Lost and Found

It's gone. The bracelet my daddy brought back from the Great Southwest when I was a very little girl is gone. I don't have that many pieces of my past that go back that far...and now I have one less. Somewhere between South Restaurant in North Hills and JC Penny's, it disappeared, ironically right after my lunch mate admired it.

I was not as upset as I thought I should be so I waited two days, between calling restaurants and offices to check and see if it was found, to see if my usual delayed reaction appeared. I got a little more blue, sniffed, and moaned. Still nothing major. No national day of shrouded grief. No debilitating agony. What I did experience was pondering thoughts about those items in my life that would have caused an instantaneous thirty-day period of mourning. My wedding and engagement rings that have been on my fingers twenty-seven years as of next month. My husband lost his wedding band at the side of the road after having to reload an order of lumber. Fortunately it was found but the guy was in the kind of agony I both appreciated and forever after want to avoid. The black and white cameo ring that was the last thing my mother bought for me, as we strolled around an antique show in Asheville, NC, before her untimely death. I have always called it my magic ring because I put it on and it was a perfect fit. The necklace with the "Ask Seek, Knock" door charm that is more symbolic than a cross to me. Not much more than that.

We all think we won't survive when we lose the material things like jewelry or, worse, our homes. When we lose loved ones, it does feel unbearable. What we do not lose are the memories attached to those people and things. While there are days when that may seem like cold comfort, those memories become a part of our very essence, who we are, what we will become. That thought is what I like to think I have found this week, in the midst of loss.