serendipity {№3}

last week i spent a few days on the beautiful outer banks of north carolina and attended my third art retreat there. this was a year i expected to go without the space and grace of a creative kindred gathering, but the stars aligned and a few of my work classes were cancelled during the week of serendipity.  i couldn't attend the full time of the retreat, but i fully lived two days of love and creativity and stayed offsite in a lovely and peaceful home.*

i spent one day writing in a circle led by two remarkable women, amy and maya, the founders of food for the soul train.  the writing exercises were powerful and we all brought our courage and love when it was time to share our words.  i loved that the deep intensity of the writing was lightened by humor woven throughout, an egg-in-spoon relay race on the lawn, writing in the sand and making tiny books, maya-and-amy-style.

my second day was spent soaking up the goodness of artist alena hennessy.  the way alena welcomed us and created a warm and gentle space was so lovely and inspiring.  when i attended my very first art retreat in 2009, the painting class i signed up for was the scariest thing on my schedule.  five years later, thanks to many talented and gracious teachers, painting is where i feel most myself.

as always, words seem a bit hollow when trying to describe retreat time.  so i will let photographs tell the story.

some serendipity loveliness:

amy and maya.

my wind-whipped dress finishing my sand sentence for me.

letting the ocean take the words.

making tiny books.

brilliant songbird chelsea making her tiny book.

a prayer.

these words, spoken by maya.

these colors.

beautiful, soulful alena at work.

one of my paintings (photo by alena).

little miracles.

tiny b, serendipitied.

nags head being perfect in october.

a morning mandala meditation that turned into the sacred blue heart of seaglass mary, created with bits from dawn's collection, with the help of a purring muse.

at serendipity if you wander too long on the beach at sunset and the colorful houses start to look the same in the dimming light, you can always find your way back.

listen for the laughter.
look for the twinkle lights.

other moments (of so many) i want to remember:

• creating with lavi, sharing space with her in both classes.
• the time in painting class when we were all absorbed in our own work, the ocean roaring outside the doors, and we spontaneously began singing along to mumford and son.
• holly's radiant face beneath her woodland crown.  
• chelsea's song about her parents' marriage.
• the vibrant orange butterfly that just appeared over stevie's head while she was talking about transformation.
• jen lee and tim manley and the art of friendship.
• the relatively sedate atlantic ocean, behaving like my wild pacific.
• jessica.  we connected briefly at serendipity 2011, had a facebook friendship for three years and it was like we completely knew each other, like we've been friends for years.  i love it when that happens.
• that this is what happens in this far flung community of kindreds:  we share physical space for brief moments, each year if we are lucky, but once connected, we share heart space forever.

previous outer banks art retreat love here, here, here and here (last two are squam-by-the-sea).



*this was the first time i stayed offsite during a retreat (almost always a registration option) and i noticed how this supported my introverted self even if i still missed some of the togetherness and new-friend-making that comes from staying in the retreat houses.  i'm pulling together a future blog post with some observations and tips for introverts while art retreating.  i know the large-groupness of it all can be a challenge and that some introverts might avoid the experience altogether, which is truly a loss for all of us.

autumn in yogaville

when we get a bit overwhelmed with all the fear/blame/hate swirling around us in the "real world", we head to yogaville to clear our heads and hearts.  you can hike, meditate, yoga, contemplate, love and just be in the beauty and serenity of this remarkable space.

yogaville celebrates the world's religions and spiritual practices:  "truth is one, paths are many."

this is the stuff of yogaville:

 ask.

sit.

wander.

breathe.

dance.

gather.

listen.

belong.

receive.

offer.

we carry all these things with us but sometimes they feel buried too far beneath the world's imprint to access.  yogaville pulls them to the surface and reminds us to work to keep them there.  this often happens when we practice them every day no matter the view.

more yogaville love here and here and here.

sunday grace

{tiny b at pharsalia}

these words keep finding their way into my facebook, twitter and instagram feeds.  normally when this happens with any given quote, i get weary of seeing it over and over again.  but these words, when they appear before my eyes, are always new, always relevant and always make me think, oh yeah...

"whatever is happening is the path to enlightenment."

-pema chödrön

this summer week

i spent last week mainly on the road with my gypsy job:  spreading child protection practice to the far corners of the commonwealth of virginia.  this week was one of my favorite locations:  abingdon.  i love my job, but i was not overly excited about traveling the deathtrap that is interstate 81 during peak family vacation time AND the last week of mercury retrograde.  i said lots of prayers and brought along tiny b and ganesh for good mojo and safe travels.

all was well.

it is the summer of rain.  i have never seen so much rain.  while in abindgon, there were two dangerous thunderstorms and flooding.  sheesh.  but it sure looks pretty on the hotel window with the blue ridge mountains in the background.

the rain stopped long enough for a walk in the old downtown neighborhood, just off of main street in abingdon.  every charming house has a lovely garden.  most have friendly neighbors offering greetings from their porches.  it's one of my favorite things to do.

i returned safety to my home, my husband and wild dogs and ended the week with a trip to the farmer's market.  it is overrun with flowers and fruits and vegetables and nice people.

i picked up a loaf of freshly baked blue cheese/apple/walnut bread and we enjoyed a breakfast of it with a smear of fig jam.

luca insists i return to routine, no matter how much i travel.  first priority is always a walk at sunrise.

i hope next week is beautiful and happy and safe for you.

color and the city {№2}

color and pockets of peace in the city.

and tiny b rides the c train.

(part one here.)

around here

there are spiritual conventions in the rarely-used upstairs fireplace-turned-alter.

there is avoiding work by drawing and coloring quirky little scandinavian flowers.

and there is the revelation that taking some time to do art leads to better, peaceful, more creative work.

there are many tea times during the day.  and sometimes espresso.

there is experimenting with vegan tuna salad.

because i really miss tuna salad.

this turned out eerily similar in taste and texture to the real thing.  rinse and drain a can of chickpeas and pulverize in the food processor.  sprinkle with kelp granules or sea kelp delight to add lots of healthy minerals and the taste of the ocean.  then just add your regular tuna salad ingredients.  i used vegan mayo, whole grain mustard, red onion, celery, sweet relish, capers and dill.  it's fantastic.

there is silence.

and thinking.

and dreaming.

and napping.

there is alchemy:  mixing essential oils to create an amazing fragrance.  the recipe was gifted to me by a dear friend who appreciates that i like to smell like campfire, coffee, jasmine and oranges.

there is art.

so far, february is pretty awesome.