icarus girl

grounded, she stares up through blossoms and thinks the view from here is not so bad. sky sees her quirky calculating grin and knows she is dreaming of better, stronger, more beautiful homemade wings.

mosaic monday

dearest spring,

on second thought, i may need a few more moments in the soft and tender. i know i asked for an explosion of color and energy, but you and i both know it was for no more than a distraction. i will wait here, hidden in the pale subtlety of your down beats.

love,
lisa

{flickr artists here.}

a tuning of sorts

some time was spent yesterday wandering through the archives of this blog. because this space is mostly a personal reflection, it morphs into pseudojournal upon review. here's the trouble i've always had with journals: i look back and cringe. i want a do-over. i rip out pages and throw away entire volumes to make them disappear from my own history. in the abstract distance of hindsight, of remembering in my mind, i say i'm grateful for mistakes, for less-than-smooth transitions, for awkward periods that portray the opposite of who i want to be. but when the concrete words and images are right there in front of me, documenting the struggle for me and anyone else who cares to look, the familiar wave of blush builds and crashes down on me.

i sit here in mysterious chagrin and consider it a tiny victory that i leave the content intact. i resist the urge to erase, to clean the slate, one click and it's gone. i listen to the discontent and ask myself what would i have wanted it to look and sound like?

more bass and way less treble.
balance for sure.

still undecided on the volume.

weekend love

hoping yours is full of lazy. plus a wee bit of crazy. seriously, the seriousness must end.

today

someone has quite the pout.

a curious girl

 wants to know: in the dead of winter, does the plum tree trust her own fabulousness?

{and she also wants to know if her tree friend is indeed a plum? or a cherry?}

{also she wants to confess that she watched new moon yesterday.}

{twice.}

{yes, she is twelve.}

a palindrome

a happy monday

three beautiful days off this week to do with what I please. here's what I please:

• spring cleaning. me and mrs. meyers basil are going to do some serious mojo clearing.
• then I'm going to get dirty. little pots of alyssum, thyme, rosemary and mint are patiently waiting for more permanent homes.
• this is what I will be listening to while playing housewife.
• oh and there will be breaks. lots of them. which means reading. you know I read two or three books at a time right? (I've a bit of a.d.d.) currently loving this because it's making me laugh and this because it's making me think. and not about broken babies and shifty lawyers.
• brene's program came in the post last week. it's been sitting on my desk softly whispering, "it's okay to wait to watch me. you're absolutely right, you are at the edge of a big shift with some huge decisions to make. and yes, I am going to give you some information that leaves you no choice but to move toward something new. it's scary, I know. trust me."
• pedi+massage.
• oh sweet jesus. nurse jackie returns.
• and here's the biggy: I'm going to take a peek (just a little peek) at the job market. the signs can't get any clearer: it's time for a change.

happy monday friends!

sun reading

in one moment the story failed to hold her and the sun crept in to work her skin with skilled fingers. her armor dripped in quivering beads of mercury rendering a metallic chalk outline at the scene of the crime. she baked in the warm sweet softness of vulnerability. in the seduction her mind travelled to a purple wildflower of a girl, twirling and laughing, collapsing with dizziness into the hot sand at the edge of california. the girl is pure possibility, open and ripe with expectation. the judge, the warrior, the persuader are strangers, roles unknown and not yet chosen.

her eyes open to bright blindness. she reaches for the book to retrieve some semblance of composure and return to the safe confines of someone else's story.

five senses friday*

{see}

• color. good grief color, I've missed you.

{hear}

• truthtelling. you can tell the truth with love, but it sure isn't always received that way. "in a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act." -george orwell
• she & him
• chirpy little birds.

{taste}

• not much of anything. back on the diet and totally uninspired to create something healthy and fabulous.

{smell}

• hyacinths still perfuming the house.
• windows left open clear that wintry dullness from all the rooms. heaven.

{touch}

• working on a theatre poster featuring a most beautiful set of abs. trying to balance lustiness and tastefulness and worried the finished product might be a bit much to post around my conservative southern town. I want to reach out and touch them. I hope it makes people want to see this sexy little play (featuring said abs). I feel old.

{bonus sixth}

• last night I dreamt I went about my everyday activities dressed as a barnum & bailey ringmaster. I kept misplacing my whip and hoop and my tophat was too big and covered my eyes. it was not a good look. but quite telling, no?

happy friday beauties.
*fsf inspired by abby.

bonjour bella!

april's bella magazine is featuring my photo of ms. ruby on the cover. I love that it's the eco-issue. I love how ruby's face conveys both sweetness and sincerity and the way her 3-year-old hands are tender and clumsy at the same time. she is an absolute joy to photograph and hang out with. when we play princess, she lets me be jasmine. jasmine and mulan sit and watch imaginary television in the midst of a busy coffeehouse. mulan reigns over the remote control and narrates the story. jasmine is quiet; it's been a while since she's been in the princess role.

central virginia friends, look for it next week in print (it's huge, you can't miss it!).

bonjour fleurs du printemps

et la petite chèvre

bonjour inspiration!

whimsy + drama + story = paul octavious' same hill different day. {via oh joy.}

bonjour couleur verte!

sunday randomness

• spending time in a big(ish) city is good therapy. there is no chitchat. absolutely none.
• when a good chunk of actions you take for a living can appear to be destructive, it's good to counter with huge bursts of creation.
• healing can occur while facing a giant wall of sparkly beads (beauty, possibility, creation, imagination and on and on and on...).
• my parents should have named me stormy or tempest or passion. lisa implies neutrality, restraint, temperateness. totally misleading.
• the cheese stands alone. as does that greybrown donkey in the pasture of white cows.
• tiny road trip=dreaming of big road trip.
• two hours south, there is an entirely different season happening.
• spring forward. say bonjour.
  

sparkle+fade

happy friday beautiful friends!

it's so lovely to have arrived at the end of this week. one more extra long work day fielding and managing interesting changes and new directions {can you detect the euphemism?} and then it's all about old french films, getting lost in a few stories, catching up with mia, making something and maybe a few luxurious naps.

my work and my life are becoming increasingly polarized. I'm curious if this signals the elusive achievement of balance or a dilemma that requires me to choose.

saying it hot

a friend recently quoted d.h. lawrence: "be still when you have nothing to say but when genuine passion moves you, say what you've got to say, and say it hot.”

words and thoughts about voice are really resonating with me lately. I'd not known this quote before and haven't stopped thinking of it since the trail of letters danced across my sightline. this is my challenge: saying it hot (my natural impulse) and speaking the truth with love at the same time.

curiously, the perfect balance of fearless and beautiful.

two stories of a girl named spring

I want to tell a story about a girl and how she arrives. you know she's coming; you can feel it in the air. the light and color shift; subtly at first, then in a moment the air is charged with happy static. she is bearing all things bright and beautiful. she is holding possibility in her arms; posed to deliver it to the faithful and patient. she is the party, the music, the dance. she is draped in sparkly exuberance and the only word she knows is "yes".

I want to tell a story about a girl and how she arrives. she is unexpected but somehow you are not surprised when she appears. you know her and trust her. she has been quietly working backstage, content in her study of life and love and color. her homework is done and then some. she has the answers to your questions about growth and comfort and fulfillment. she is the nurturer, the secret-keeper, the confidant. she is celadon and wisteria and the gentle scent of honeysuckle. she tiptoes softly into the room and stands before you, arms wide open. she whispers, "yes".

oh hi there beautiful

can I say how delighted I am that you've arrived? we can always count on you to be the early bird, the first girl at the party. bedecked in your brilliant purpleblueness, you wipe away a winter's worth of dark and cold. your soft scent brings to mind a landscape of green meadow speckled with a rainbow of wildflowers. I can hear the happy song of the baby brown wrens in the distance as they dance in the branches, testing their courage and skill.

thank you for bringing me to this place.

five senses friday*

{see}

• a new vision for the family room...the colors of seaglass
• lonny magazine
• beautiful colorful functional bags for my camera and lenses and a new baby to look through? enter the best giveaway ever sponsored by epiphanie

{hear}

• the open road calling my name

{touch}

• anticipating the sun's debut this weekend with a giant stack of catalogs, magazines, gardening books...I can already feel the warmth on my winter-parched skin

{taste}

• to celebrate holi in my own little western way sans a colorfest, I improvised the traditional celebratory drink thandai: almond milk, honey, rose water, pistachios, cardamom, pepper, poppy and anise seeds. I threw it all in a blender with some ice and it is officially my new favorite thing

{smell}

• I woke this morning to the scent of coffee brewing mingling with the jasmine and hyacinth blooming on the window sill

for each of you, I'm wishing a beautiful day experienced with all five senses fully alive.

*five senses friday inspired by abby (I love to visit and swoon over her lavender blog banner).

the show

I think this is my theme song for march.

happy thursday beauties!

giving up the throne

ever since I was a child, people told me I was a natural leader. what I've learned since then is all this means is I have some energy, the ability to persuade people to do things and an instinctual bend toward being a total bossypants.

I've been an "official" leader for just over three years now. in that time, I've learned that there are three really distinct parts of leadership. I only excel at the first one: having and communicating a vision and team mobilization.

I'm currently working on the middle and most difficult phase of leadership: maintaining excellence and momentum. and I absolutely suck at this. once the excitement and newness of a "mission" has passed, the real work of team development and growth begins. this requires copious amounts of patience and acceptance of setbacks; not my strong suits. I am easily frustrated that people don't stick to the vision. and I have to say I've had my share of imperious "let them eat cake" moments. like I said, I'm working on it...

lately I've been thinking about the third phase of leadership: letting go of control and passing on the reins. the happiest moments of my work day are when staff show brilliance to the point that I'm confident they can one day take over and continue to move the team forward. so when I have those moments of dreaming about retirement or fantasizing about the perfect vision/mobilization-only job, I know that I can walk away in peace.

holi mosaic monday!

thank you all for your love and support during the month of love. I'm so happy to have friends visiting and always for the love and insight of your brilliant minds and hearts. we now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

and it's holi today!

I am hereby declaring that the western calendar is way too slow for me and choose to believe that today (TODAY!) is the first day of spring. let's make this week one of vibrant color and hopefulness, shall we?

and today, I have put this one on the list: participate in a holi festival. in india.

and did you see that hunk of glowing moon last night?

(please see my flickr faves for the holi photographers, in my excitement, I forgot to post the mosaic with credits!)