Sunday, September 14, 2014

some days are not my favorite color


some days are rust.

on rusty days you just can't conjure the positive spin.

on rusty days the people you count on to be present and loving are exhausted by you.

on rusty days the people you count on to be present and loving are just not.  they are having their own rusty day.

on rusty days words sting stingier than usual.

on rusty days words seep into your bloodstream and sting every time they circulate through your heart.

on rusty days you want to blog about grace and forgiveness but you can't seem to pull them out of the air.

and your heart is too busy filtering the stingy words to help out.

some rusty days it's just about the planets.

some rusty days it's more about choices.

on rusty days it helps to have a wire fox terrier who is pretty much the kindest human on earth.

who sits with you in all the rusty emotions.

and reminds you of turquoise.


Tuesday, September 2, 2014

happy things at floyd yoga jam


yoga jazz hands in cyndi lee's saturday class.


windy country roads and summer sunshine.


posture details.


and more posture details.


tents in blissland overflowing with yogi color.


hoop dancers.


lounge-y gypsy tents.


and even more posture details.


prayer flags handmade by tiny yogis.


wee one nestled inside her mama's bow pose (omgoodness, that little belly!).


happy hoop colors.


om in the air.


watermelon paletas.  (and an amazing salad of quinoa, arugula, avocado, black beans, apple, corn, gouda and mango dressing from goatocado, which i am totally going to be recreating and putting on regular rotation at home.)


the giggles coming out of this tiny dancer.


(not pictured) a hug from jen waine.  hugs from gentle warrior reiki goddesses are the BEST.


people living lives they love.


see you next year.

(see previous yoga jam love here.)

Sunday, August 24, 2014

a week in color {№12}


in this pretty gloomy week, there was so much local color to be found.   i am so grateful for this little city and the beauty it keeps serving up.

on saturday, TOOLRY, our creative coworking space, hosted a lovely flower workshop.  when you add buckets of flowers, lemon scones and loads of flower-happy girls to TOOLRY's already stunning interior and good vibes, the vibrant joy kind of blows you away.








our lovely teacher, sarah-louise, flower goddess from irvington spring farm, posing for our brilliant official photographers of the day foster addington.




earlier in the week, i took a stroll in the urban zen that is anne spencer's historic garden.  we are so lucky to have this home and garden to enjoy.  anne spencer, the harlem renaissance poet, lived in lynchburg.  i can't wait to share the inside of her home with you in the future.  the colors are breathtaking.  she is a kindred spirit.  but on this summer day: the garden.






at the pond, you can push a button and listen to mrs. spencer's poetry about her garden.  bliss.


lucky local us.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

sunday grace


collective despair.

we are swimming in it.

sometimes it feels like too much.  we bear witness to so much pain and grief; we touch it intimately and universally.  we are pulled into the opposite of hope.

as a child, when there were weeks like the last few our world has endured, i experienced the additional fear and confusion of living in a home where the term "the end times" was bounced around like a sad balloon my parents were dedicated to keep inflated and afloat.  it tasted a lot like giving up.  on my own, with only my imagination and tenderstrong heart, i had to develop the antidote to this doomsy view of life in order to survive.

i asked, what if these are the beginning times?  what can i do, how can i be, who can i love so that light remains stronger than darkness?

grace was, and is, my imaginary friend.

here is some practical advice she's whispered to me over the years:

  • stay curious about individuals.  especially those you disagree with.
  • create on an hourly basis.  better yet, stay in creation mode all the time.  creativity is the opposite of destruction.
  • experience silence.  it's the only way to truly rest and make sense of the rest of it.  for me, this means news sobriety.  modern "news" is the loud, incessant and distorted cheap boombox back beat for collective despair.  if you feel you must maintain some connection to the overwhelming happenings, find a quality source of information you trust and take little sips, no more than once a day.  i haven't listened to the news for months.  it took several years to wean myself from this destructive addiction.
  • love.  especially children and other tender souls.
  • each moment, make conscious decisions and take action to create the world you want to live in. in a million tiny ways, we can be the world we want our children to flourish in.
  • listen to good music that touches and inspires you.
  • laugh. a lot.  play. without shame.

let's live in the beginning of times.

Friday, August 1, 2014

a week in color {№11}


this is really "three weeks in color".  july was quietly awesome with cool days (unheard of in these parts), lots of down time, exploring sketching and watercolors, the farmers market, and happening upon a secret lotus pond.




creative time at toolry, the amazing artists' collaborative workspace downtown.  having a dedicated space to focus on one aspect of my creative self at a time (which often feels a bit broad and spread thin) lit a spark in me.  and the inspiration continued to glow throughout my weeks.


favorite summer thing:  heirloom tomatoes


favorite summer thing:  peach ice cream.


favorite summer thing:  dahlias.


this is pretty much my life.  except i was going for simon in the background.  simon is not as well-behaved as the queen's corgis.  he fancies himself an anarchist.  here's an outtake:


happy august loves!

Friday, July 25, 2014

happy friday


this weekend:

  • the buddhas, ganeshas, marys, lakshmis, kwan yins and jesuses in the gypsy hill multidenominational living room peace summit altar are getting bathed.  the buddha heads were the first (here they are, posing pretty after their bath). this is a huge job that needs to be completed in stages as there are nearly thirty members waiting in line at the kar(ma) wash.  :)
  • i want to make something in the kitchen that i've never made before.  i don't know what it is yet.  i'm going to let the farmer's market and the karma garden inform the decision.
  • there is a meditation center, the bodhi path, in the mountains not far from our house.  we are planning our first visit on sunday.  also, there is a classic diner nearby.  pancakes and spirituality go nicely together.  this reminds me of the time i was browsing through an omega catalog and saw an ayurvedic panchakarma retreat listing and my brain read it as "pancake-a-rama".  
  • i am a great starter.  i have a constant stream of new ideas that i like to kick into existence.  trouble is, i lose steam quickly and am on to the next amazing idea or project.  so a bit of incomplete exists on gypsy hill.  this weekend i will be finishing projects i started last month, last winter, last summer, three years ago.  

i hope you are planning (or not planning, if spontaneity works for you this weekend) all kinds of goodness and fun and togetherness.

Monday, July 21, 2014

the perfect summer weekend


this weekend was
  1. lazy
  2. slow
  3. cool(ish)
  4. not too humid
  5. free of obligation
  6. full of gifts from the earth
after saturday morning yoga, we took a beautiful drive to a peach orchard and picked a peck.





we shared a peach milkshake under the orchard canopy.  isn't this just lovely?  i wish i would have planned ahead and prepared a proper picnic.

but i suppose "no planning required" was another thing that made this weekend perfect.




our karma garden is giving us so much goodness this year.  the abundance of cucumbers and dill informed our choice for sunday supper:  cold cucumber soup.



cooking straight from the garden is something i'm getting better at as the summers roll by.


this is the perfect summer supper:  fresh, cooling, light.



c u c u m b e r  s o u p  with  h e r b s  and  p e t a l s

ingredients

  •  3 large cucumbers
  • 1 1/2 cup plain greek yogurt 
  • 2 or 3 garlic cloves, finely minced
  • zest of one lemon
  • juice of half the lemon
  • handful fresh dill
  • handful fresh parsley
  • sea salt
  • course ground black pepper
  • herbs and edible flowers for garnish (i used the dill blooms, oregano flowers, nasturtiums and calendula)
  • olive oil
preparation
  • if you prefer your soup smooth, peel all three cucumbers, scrape out the seeds and give a rough chop
  • *if you prefer your soup a bit rustic (as shown), leave one of the cucumbers unpeeled and add it to the soup after the soup has been processed
  • put cucumbers, yogurt, finely minced garlic, lemon juice, lemon zest, dill and parsley in food processor and pulse to desired consistency
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • move soup to alternate glass container
  • *if you prefer the rustic version, process the third unpeeled cucumber to a rough consistency now and add to the soup
  • place in fridge and let it chill for at least one hour
  • when it's time to serve, garnish with more fresh herbs, flowers and more course ground black pepper; drizzle with olive oil
  • serve with toasted baguette or croutons



as an introvert, a perfect weekend for me always involves some quiet alone time.  i took a walk away from the crowd and stumbled upon this secret lotus pond.  there was one giant white bloom, a few perfect buds and a corps de ballet of electric blue and black dragonflies dancing about.

a serendipitous and magical prize for a solitary meander.


thank you weekend.  thank you summer.  thank you life.