Tuesday, 31 August 2010
Monday, 30 August 2010
Have you been to Africa?
Of everyone who participated one answer dominated:
In the meantime, a new poll question has been posted. I hope you'll participate.
To view my earlier ramblings on the subject go to Uganda Bound or Fear of Africa or for fun Dressing Up for Uganda.
Sunday, 29 August 2010
It’s been a while since I sat cross-legged with my butt against a pillow and my palms facing up. Thumb and third finger together sloped on the knees. I settle. Doing my best to clear my thoughts. It takes time.
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Friday, 27 August 2010
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Tuesday, 24 August 2010
Monday, 23 August 2010
Sunday, 22 August 2010
A master of harmony. Mother nature creates the sky, the land and the sea. We exist. Our footprints wash through the sand. Balanced with air. The essence of our being.
I walk a path of joy. Eyes open. The colour palette exudes shades of imagination. If you look you'll see. All around us there is art. Art in nature.
Saturday, 21 August 2010
I was curious. Seems my time as of late has been scarce to ponder over the print with say a cup of java. It's off for a ride or to work in the morning with it folded up under the arm. The intention exists for some quiet time in the day to not rush though it. Doesn't seem to happen.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Monday, 16 August 2010
No problem except for the skirts and dresses part. I racked my brain for what lived in my small locker. One dress suitable for that temperature, not likely for the daytime. No skirts.
Sunday, 15 August 2010
- positive attitude
- stay active
- eat right
- give your body what it needs to be healthy
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Thursday, 12 August 2010
Two summers in a row I was fortunate to work for the Provincial Parks Branch. I’d saved the money. Even with my horse, I kept up part-time jobs and left the money in the bank.
Back then you could buy a Eurail Pass and a Youth Hostel membership pretty cheap. I did all that. Got on a plane and landed in Europe. Alone. Yes. Was I scared? Not really. But Europe was bigger then I imagined and getting around no easy feat.
Wednesday, 11 August 2010
Did a conference call tonight with SARK and others. Love technology today. We actually had an opportunity to break off into groups and do mini-workshop type vignettes all via this system called MaestroConference. Very cool.
SARK’s verbal response was not to leap, but to build a bridge.
I’m washing the dishes and mulling over it all. I think about my bridge. The future. The workshop with SARK in September. My upcoming trip to Uganda in the fall.
Tuesday, 10 August 2010
“You never go to Africa once,” he claims. “With Africa you end up getting connected. You make connections with people that add meaning to your life.”
Monday, 9 August 2010
Sunday, 8 August 2010
“It’s been really dry.”
Wood and warmth. Like kindling. Cracks open up. It dries out. Wouldn’t want to light a match. Although, not necessarily so with a wooden boat in salt water. Must keep fresh water out. Salt water prevents rot. Fresh water rots boat. Rot is bad. Don’t want rot.
I have a friend who owned a wooden boat. She laboured over her with love. Till one day the rot became too much. It had reached her stem. Kinda an important part structurally of the boat. Called it quits. Put her love up for sale and sold her. Haven’t had a chance to ask her yet if she’s ever looked back.
Like a house, there’s a certain amount of maintenance that needs to happen each year. With boats though, if the roof leaks, it isn’t always that simple to fix. Pretty easy to put a few buckets out though!
So I carry on.
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Perceived innocence. Conceptual charm. Altered states. Gambling with reality.
We are deployed prisoners of the real word. Captured morals. Reinstated by laws. Be it others points of view. Daring to imagine. Frightened by mystique.
What if all we know is not what is? We live here or there.
If the world ended tomorrow what would really matter today?
Thursday, 5 August 2010
In absolute horror I relived my own disturbance in life. An out-of-balance with the weight heavy in the heart. The burden carried second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour – day by day in the head. No shaking it.
Supposedly time heals everything. Yet in these instances time rattles on like a poisonous snake reaching out for its prey.
Silence may be golden, yet the heart beats hard and the throat catches it while the drums ring on in the ears. Ever cried that hard? It hurts.
My pain and misery spread. Lapping the shores of life. Stealing joy and mitigating sorrow. When will it end?
Acceptance quells the numbness. But will it stitch up the wounds? I know what I can do. It’s all I can do. Be there for my family member. Listen. Talk. Be. Help may come to be beyond family if time doesn’t rekindle this broken heart.
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
What if we didn’t have art? What if there were no more words? Could we speak? Could we text?
Is what I am writing now, been written before? Perhaps I’ve taken other people’s words or writings and regurgitated them through my subconscious.
Where is originality in today’s world when there has been so many others before us? How can we create something new that hasn’t been said before?
My thinking translates the answers ten-fold. We’re all individuals, we’re all unique and whatever juxtaposed notions maybe we’ve heard before chances are, they’ve been ejected from our uniqueness in our form which means our spoken or written word is our own language in art.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
When I spoke to a friend from high school tonight regarding teenage boys and their meanderings, I said to her how important I felt it was to communicate. All be it difficult at times. Especially if the parent’s side comes with care and concern (worry) leaving out the friendship iota for support.
Perception is one thing. Intention is another. So how can you fix a line of communication that is broken?
Had another pal the other day tell me that dinner with dad ended in a bit of a spat. That the family rule was never to sleep on ill feelings. Clean the slate and move on. She made that happen by taking a time out and heading back for a verbal chin wag to clear things up.
Back to the teenagers. Fortunately for me, I’ve always worn my feelings on my sleeve and spoken my mind, true to my word to my dear son. He gets it and I appreciate the healthy connection we have.
But for other parents, their talk may fall on deaf ears. I suggested to my friend, sharing your experiences with your son may create value in your discussions. And hopefully connect some hope that not all of what mum speaks is doom and gloom. She really is human too.
Monday, 2 August 2010
The oars dipped in the water and the ocean gracefully moved by. The stir of the movement like a breath in and out. As I rowed on I noticed a man perched on the bow of his multi-hull. Alone. I thought to myself – solitude.
The inlet is quiet except for the purple martins and the odd drip of the ocean from my oar. The regal silence moved my thoughts.
How often do we slow down, sit down and shut down? I know I have written that sentence before. Guilty of the deception of time for the must do this and have to do that. There is in life a necessity for stillness.
I ponder on in my own silence reflecting on the moment. Can there be such a thing? A life of solitude? Then a seagull swoops by. The air floats along. The sea surrounds. Majestic trees envelope the scene. The tranquility of the peacefulness speaks to me.
I arrive home at my boat and express my own solitude. Moments of nothingness but for the sounds that surround me.
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Been a while since I’ve declared a holiday and taken my boat out to hang out. Super cool to have visitors coming by. Even though I have to pick them up in the dinghy. All seem to be up for a meal on the transom with the barbecue.
Till dark. Then there is the mass exit. Although Catherine and Glenn stayed well past the Butchart Gardens fireworks last night and trundled home with their flashlights. The stroll up the trail from Tod Inlet isn’t long. But it is dark.
Loved Catherine’s text message “We are almost home. Boogie men didn’t get us…!”
Had to chuckle when my son and his buddy decided to bolt at dusk tonight. Eat and run before it got dark dark! No worries.
I’ve had a pleasant steady stream of happiness throughout the last two days. Great people. Fabulous food. Fresh air and sun.
Did a trail run through Gowland Tod this afternoon and down to Butchart Gardens. Very peaceful. The meadows are full of pink sweet peas. The aroma is almost summer. The winds have been chilly in the afternoon. Didn’t stop me from napping on the aft deck before dinner.
That’s what holidays are for!