these imbibing eyes

dream kid

2011-11-17T18:05:00.000-08:00

reblogged from poler

fall day

2011-10-31T11:55:00.001-08:00

a tribute to process

2011-10-22T10:47:00.000-08:00

Loewe: Masters of Leather on Nowness.com.

all things will unwind

2011-10-11T10:22:00.002-08:00

My Brightest Diamond - ALL THINGS WILL UNWIND: Visuals from Asthmatic Kitty on Vimeo.

on quiet mornings

2011-09-27T12:45:00.001-08:00

on music

2011-09-20T08:43:00.000-08:00

... how could i have forgotten music?

while it is certainly true that poetry has been keeping me safe and warm at night and water has been reminding me to be light and buoyant, music has been rocking me to sleep. during the past several months, i have had the opportunity to see some phenomenal live performances, (thank you, mister harvey), that have had as deep an impact as water and poetry have in my healing process.

poetry has said for me all the things i could not.

water has reminded me to be gentle with myself.

and music has given me my voice back.

Memory Keepers for So-Called 9/11 “Jumpers.” : The New Yorker

2011-09-12T12:31:00.000-08:00

THE TALK OF THE TOWN

FLIGHT

by Edwidge DanticatSEPTEMBER 12, 2011

KEYWORDS: September 11, 2001 (9/11);; Haiti;; Earthquakes;; Jumpers;; World Trade Center;; Fathers;; Pulmonary Fibrosis

My family in Haiti has been removing rubble from a school that was shattered during the earthquake of January 12, 2010. In the process, they have found bones, human bones. Because they are not scientists or DNA experts, it is impossible for them to trace the bones back to the bodies to which they once belonged: active, lively people who spoke and laughed and danced and loved.

Whose bones are these? they wonder. Do they belong to the bright student who was always first in her class, to a parent with whom a teacher had an appointment? Are they the teacher’s bones?

Listening in on phone conversations about the bones, I think of fossils dug up thousands and even millions of years after death. There is Lucy, the three-million-year-old Ethiopian; Otzi, the five-thousand-year-old Ice Man; and the casts of entire families buried beneath Pompeii.

It is the burden of the survivors and the curious to decipher final moments, whether they occurred a year, ten years, or a thousand years ago. Do they speak to the reality of a particular time, to the nature of death itself, or to an individual’s final instincts during his or her last moments on earth? In cases where we have a personal connection, we want to know whether our loved ones suffered. Did they have any regrets about things left undone, words unsaid? After two years, after ten years, there are still people around to look back and to remember. However, after a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand years, the bones and images will have to speak for themselves.

The image that lingers most in my mind from September 11, 2001, is that of human beings attempting to fly—men and women catapulted from or fleeing a volcano-like inferno of fuel, fire, heat, and smoke, then cutting across a clear blue sky, down toward the ground. Some were alone. Some were in pairs. Some tried to make parachutes of ordinary things—curtains, clothes. One woman held on to her purse, perhaps thinking that she might need it on the very slight chance that she landed safely on the ground.

Televised tragedies make death—that most private of departures—public, national, global. No deaths were more public on September 11, 2001, than those of the so-called “jumpers,” a word that many have rightfully called a misnomer, because these were certainly not the deaths these people would have chosen for themselves.

We are often told that we must not compare tragedies, but how can we not when we experience them in the same body and with the same mind? Past horrors give us a language with which to define new ones. Worldwide terrors become personalized.

My father, for example, who woke me from a deep sleep in another part of New York, to tell me that the World Trade Center had been destroyed, died four years later, of pulmonary fibrosis—a disease that also struck many 9/11 first responders. He had spent part of that day in downtown Brooklyn, picking up people fleeing Manhattan and chauffeuring them home. That eerie coincidence is one more thing that links September 11th to all the other horrors that my father endured in his life, including a brutal dictatorship.

My father was extremely critical of the television stations that showed the so-called jumpers. Yes, the images were shocking and deeply unsettling, but they also rendered undeniable the true horror of that day, even though, like bones, they mostly tell one story, the final one. The job of reconstructing lives belongs to the living, the memory keepers, which is what all of us became that day, willing or unwilling witnesses, unable to look away.

A few days after September 11th, when I ventured near the still smoky ashes of the World Trade Center, I kept thinking about a clear blue sky that had rained lives. I got on a bus filled with other ordinary New Yorkers whose eyes were still teary and red, and whose mouths and noses were covered with dust masks. Besides the shared sensation of having been shattered, though, there was also a feeling of community: having gone through this with the city, wherever in the world you had been born you were now a lifelong New Yorker. Those of us who were from countries that have always been, in their own ways, terrorized could now be counsellors to our previously sheltered friends, but only barely. For, no matter how much we immerse ourselves in communal grieving, we all carry within ourselves our own private memorials of loss and an increasing fear of future ones.

Watching any disaster, from near or far, makes us aware that memorials are not only places but also experiences. Acts of remembrance can surface out of daily rituals, even interrupted ones. A place setting left unused at a dinner table. An oversized shoe into which we slip a foot. A prayer whispered over unclaimable bones.

Though I occasionally suffer from a fear of flying, during the past ten years getting on an airplane has become for me an act of remembrance. Each necessary surrender to every new, sometimes frustrating security measure is an acknowledgment that I, too, am attempting to glide on wind currents on borrowed wings while also hoping—praying—to land safely on the ground. ♦

an ode to water

2011-08-29T11:54:00.000-08:00

this summer has been all about water. almost every adventure has been inclusive of replenishing and healing water. coming alive again after such a difficult transition in my life has been due, in large part, to water. with so much water in my astrological chart, it is no wonder that my safe and healing place is in its calming depths. my darling friends have emerged from the woodwork, unwittingly, to swoop me up and sing me songs of water. canoes, swim suits, inner tubes, gleaming hair, and beach blankets have been the symbols of summer that have whispered to me and brought me back to life.

thank you, friends.

thank you, water.

The Right Brain Initiative Manifesto

2011-08-25T12:33:00.000-08:00

i have been wonderfully, wonderously selected by the right brain initiative for an internship this fall. take a peek at this video to get a little taste of what i'm in for!

Right Brain Initiative from studionumber9 on Vimeo.

Natya Leela

2011-08-23T08:43:00.000-08:00

2011-08-23T08:10:00.000-08:00

Electricity, 1876

When I came to, in that year

of bamboo, then carbon, then

filament, I learned to make

my own light. At night, my breasts were incandescent,

soft as white spotlighted jades.

And the school girls who knew

how to see in the dark brought me

back in their arms. We set up our atalier in the city's

reddest section. We plied the marquee

makers with our sugared tips, took

their likenesses with powdered flash;

some took their last names. I just held their trembling faces.

When the men changed, grew

more famous still, we painted our faces

in an electric gold the blind could see.

And Tesla hung our brothel lights, made our copper eggs

stand on their ends - but I took Edison

to my bed. For him, I coiled a wet-

licked curl and buried it in a bulb,

I pressed my hands together. The city smoldered, then burned.

--Brittany Cavallaro

oak trees and dry grass

2011-08-14T12:53:00.002-08:00

last week i visited a friend's property in northern california.
i needed desperately to slow down and ruminate, and to spend quiet days in nature.
and i did.
with a faithful canine companion named johnny cassius clay.
he licked my tears, and sat under the oak trees i climbed.
he woke me every morning with his face resting in the crook of my neck and followed me faithfully on every walk.
he cocked his ears every time i took a photo, and never failed to bring me something to throw over and over again.
his needs were simple, and he never asked anything of me except to be by my side (and some scratches).
in short, he was just the companion i needed.
below is a picture chronicle of those few lovely days.

train through umpqua

the city

anderson valley

the homesteader

stick art

a cook's kitchen

cash, the rig, and ss james

navarro river

2011-08-14T10:50:00.002-08:00

the power of vulnerability

2011-07-25T11:17:00.001-08:00

for anybody who has ever struggled to break open, to love, to be loved.
for anybody who has ever struggled to belong.

on the subject of maidenhair ferns

2011-07-14T13:08:00.000-08:00

close the computer. get up and move. dance to your core. explore those inexplicable longings. fall in love with your brain. write. draw. explore. think and feel in unison. channel the unchanneled parts of you. learn new words. sing warbling songs as loud as possible. take an adventure; sure-footed and epic. breathe. laugh. smile. cry. dance. pant. reconcile with the child inside. inspire and be inspired.

my relationship with poetry lately

2011-07-13T09:57:00.000-08:00

lately poetry has been my guiding light. i don't know why and i don't know how, but it has been the greatest force driving me back into the light. this poem describes beautifully my relationship with poetry lately.

how poetry comes to me

it comes blundering over the

boulders at night, it stays

frightened outside the

range of my campfire

i go to meet it at the

edge of the light

--gary snyder

why i like to cry

2011-07-06T13:49:00.000-08:00

initial

out of infinite desires rise

finite deeds like weak fountains

that fall back in early trembling arcs.

but those, which otherwise in us

keep hidden, our happy strengths--

they come forth in these dancing tears.

--rainer maria rilke

(from the book of images)

tomboy style

2011-06-12T11:49:00.001-08:00

upon discovery of this blog, i gave a silent little 'whoop!' to myself. i've always naturally embraced tomboy style, but have been told many times of late, that wearing men's clothes does not a feminine woman make. this site is the perfect example of what beautiful, graceful, classy women look like when they wear menswear, or menswear-inspired clothing. there is a certain ease with which these women seem to move that i really admire and appreciate.

Tomboy Style

kindness

2011-06-03T16:19:00.000-08:00

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

Naomi Shihab Nye
from The Words Under the Words: Selected Poems

a little sunshine for your day

2011-06-03T12:59:00.001-08:00

the journey

2011-06-01T10:46:00.000-08:00

shortly after returning from santa barbara, my auntie val sent me this poem. i read it daily and reflect upon the conversations i have participated in lately with dear friends about our own individual journeys. this poem, shared with me by a dear friend, i will share now with you... my dear friends.

the journey

one day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"mend my life!"

each voice cried.

but you didn't stop.

you knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

it was already late

enough and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones,

but little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

--mary oliver

ps... if you are not familiar with her work, i highly recommend becoming acquainted.

a few photos from henry's beach

2011-05-25T09:43:00.000-08:00

my mom, dad and i just got back from taking a road trip to santa barbara. these photos were taken on a morning walk with my auntie val and uncle jack, at one of my favorite beaches.

my dad and i lagged far behind the others to collect small treasures, and to ruminate on life and love, heartache and moving forward. it was a morning that reminded me of the magic of life, and of the strength of my desire to make magic daily.

only love can break your heart

2011-05-22T20:08:00.000-08:00

this song has been in my head everyday for awhile now...

una

2011-03-14T10:57:00.000-08:00

i had the opportunity last week to model for giovanna, the owner of una, one of my favorite clothing boutiques in portland (actually, one of my favorites period). while normally i can only enter her small haven and drool at the beautiful clothes she selects, last week i got to prance around and pose in them. what an honor. and what a delightful woman to work with. she is charming and gracious and sweet and is most certainly worth visiting at una. the clothing and accessories she sells are quite obviously selected with care and love. when you leave you will either cradle a new treasure in your arms or want to come back everyday until you have unearthed every treasure in her trove.

return home

2011-03-10T10:17:00.000-08:00

i haven't felt this way in a long time... since my return from italy almost a decade ago, in fact. the way in which, upon return home, all i want to do is hide out and re-orient myself. this feeling is not exclusive to me. it's the feeling that many international aid workers must experience with regularity. it's the slow adaptation back into the world of people who speak the same language as you, the lack of need to constantly change currency in your head, the taking for granted of basic essentials (like clean water, toilet paper, shelter, transportation, etc.), and not seeing people living in dire conditions EVERYDAY. it's a strange feeling. i thought i would be relieved to be back in the land-of-plenty, but i instead finding myself... lacking. it's almost as if life is too easy. ironic.
everyday i struggle to find the middle ground between here and there. i find myself needing to contribute directly, but unsure of how to do so from home. i feel despondent and helpless.

and then i read about liz at sseko designs who has found a way to do it in a really fun and creative way.
and then i read about chris, the creator of the art of nonconformity , and his unconventional and adventurous take on life.

and i come back to my own unique path. and my own pressing need to help make this world a better world for future generations. and of my mom's proclamation that i have always marched to the beat of a different drummer. and of my dad's proclamation that i am a work of art. and i remember that, while i am in charge of most things in my life, there is a greater essence guiding me on my path.

and i am thankful for the tangible and intangible forces that help me re-gain perspective.

thank you liz and chris, strangers who have graciously shared their stories for the benefit of the rest of us.
thank you mom and dad for helping me remember that i am special.
thank you dear dear friends for shining your light on me when mine goes dim.
and thank you, unseen essence, for always guiding me back to my path.

a year and a day

2011-01-24T11:26:00.000-08:00

please take a few minutes to watch this video brian just made about haiti and the work that ilf is doing here. it is beautiful.

a Year and a Day from Brian Martin on Vimeo.

EAT.DRINK.THINK.: Butternut Squash Soup with star anise and ginger s...

2011-01-12T14:53:00.000-08:00

EAT.DRINK.THINK.: Butternut Squash Soup with star anise and ginger s...: "Have I mentioned my affinity for all things delicious, fast, and easy in these days of being a slave to an A.D.D. afflicted one-year-old? Oh..."

can't wait to try this in haiti. although the shrimp selection leaves a bit (a lot) to be desired, the other ingredients should be quite easy to find in haiti. and since sunday is soup day here, i think i will try this out on sunday. enjoy!

haiti, continued

2011-01-11T14:20:00.000-08:00

sometimes haiti is really hard. days like this one, however, are food for my soul.

haiti

2010-12-10T13:20:00.001-08:00

sea of cortez

2010-10-25T07:09:00.001-08:00

we spent the first leg of our journey sailing with brian's family on the sea of cortez. above is a little photo narrative of some of our adventures. we spent a week laughing, reading, swimming, and playing marathon rounds of poker. it was the perfect segue to our next adventures, as well as to the coming challenges we will surely face in haiti.

aepdx and juliet zulu

2010-09-06T10:54:00.000-08:00

An AEPDX Meeting from Juliet Zulu on Vimeo.

a few months ago i had the opportunity to work with some very talented gentlemen. this was the result.

sometimes, when i don't have much to say...

2010-09-04T16:01:00.001-08:00

... i let my pictures talk for me.

these days

2010-07-13T10:59:00.000-08:00

making moves

2010-03-31T13:45:00.000-08:00

i will be spending time over here if anybody wants to take a peek at what's happening on the farm. brian has just invited me to contribute to the farm blog, and i have a sneaking suspicion it will be the source of much of my inspiration for a good long while.

y'all may not see many postings for the next little while, but know that i am thinking often and at length about this space and those of you who grace it with your presences.

heart

until we meet again, here's a little note for you...

where do i begin?

2010-03-14T11:25:00.000-08:00

here?

the first babies have been planted.

(with humidity)

perhaps here?

the first beds have been prepared.

or maybe?

sunny days are on the way.

nah.

let's stick to what's important:

the babies.

big day

2010-03-05T17:45:00.000-08:00

wednesday was a big day on the farm. brian and i laid and leveled 7 tons of gravel in the greenhouse, finished my work table, installed one very heavy old sink, and prepared seed trays for the tiny seeds to grow in. wednesday also marked my first day with pipes and plumbing.

this little, big life has been beyond, (and more fulfilling), than my wildest imaginings. my decision to join forces with brian has already proven to be one of the best decisions i've made in my life. i look as forward to what is coming, as i do to what is now.

portraits of new love

2010-02-20T16:45:00.000-08:00

everyday my love grows.

farm days

2010-02-17T17:17:00.000-08:00

this is the greenhouse we, (mostly brian), are building.

paulina lake

2010-01-28T10:38:00.000-08:00

brian and i spent the weekend at paulina lake, pictured in the background from the top of paulina peak.

meet brian

2010-01-14T14:56:00.000-08:00

he's the bee's knees.

portraits of my space

2010-01-11T16:48:00.001-08:00

indiana winter

2010-01-02T15:27:00.001-08:00

is there anything better than family?

2009-12-29T12:44:00.003-08:00

will durant, philosopher and historian, once wrote: "family is the nucleus of civilization."

this quote has traveled with me for most of my adult life, birthed on the wall of my first bedroom away from my parents' home. my ideas of home have changed in the decade since, but this adage has remained with me as a constant reminder of home, and the inextricable link between family and home.
during the last few years especially, my ideas of family have grown to encompass the given and the chosen, and have begun to blend seamlessly into one loving, enriching, challenging, and vital family.

so many of us are orphans in one way or another, often times far away from our given families.
this idea of the given and the chosen family becomes the foundation from which we launch ourselves into the world.
in western society, our concepts of family are too often limited to the nuclear. the extended family becomes ancillary, and loses its inherent value as a core part of each person's foundation.
we lose out on so much when we isolate ourselves from our family of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, children, siblings, mentors, and friends.

this is the second year i've made new years resolutions, and the second year that i will state my desire to further strengthen the bond of my given and chosen family.
i hope keep with me all the lessons i've learned from my family, and i hope to one day be able to give even a fraction of the love i receive.

pictory

2009-12-16T10:40:00.005-08:00

i just submitted my first picture and story to pictory, a new online photo magazine, and an offshoot of JPG magazine.
the theme is 'the one who got away'

when i met him, i knew we had been inextricably linked for lifetimes. our magnetism was a force beyond our control. he was my best friend, my lover, and my mirror. when i left, i did so because i let my light go out. and because he was my mirror, i could no longer see his light. each subsequent trial of the heart has been a reminder to me to keep my light shining bright, for if the light goes out, the magic melts away.

what inspires me today

2009-12-09T13:32:00.003-08:00

andy paiko and ethan rose at museum of contemporary craft

brian ferry

carnelian ring by kenneth jay lane

arctic sea by erte

agathe mougin

oaxaca

2009-12-06T12:22:00.002-08:00

hierva el agua

exposición corpus aeternum

mary in a gas mask

ubiquitous street art

el zocalo

los amantes

2009-11-24T13:21:00.003-08:00

where i discovered my love for mezcal (thank you, ryan).

2009-11-17T14:27:00.003-08:00

i am 31 now.

and this is what i have decided to do this year...

cultivate the enjoyment of moments. (be present)

don't be afraid to fall. (don't be afraid to fail)

breathe deeply. (slow down)

laugh loud. (show the world that i am a damn fine human being)

blush often. (humility)

help. (contribute to the greater good)

thank you friends and family for inspiring me to be a good person.

ramblings from a moleskin in mexico

2009-11-12T13:47:00.006-08:00

'mexico is catharsis.
the humid and tropical climate has resurrected me.
my fragile skeleton has become a solid foundation once more.
my breath and my lifeblood is love
with the death of love i die.
here i have been reborn.
without knowing why... here i am home.' 28.10.09

'through the jungle
through the mountains of oaxaca
a sweaty and dirty second-class bus
from puerto escondido
via acapulco-- dirty dirty smoggy
ugly acapulco whose salvation
came in the form of pozole verde and waitress 'mi amor'
via zihuatanejo-- mexico of my heart.' 30.10.09

'oaxaca of my heart...' 06.11.09

part 2

2009-11-12T13:35:00.001-08:00

my heart needs a band aid.

2009-10-15T15:05:00.002-08:00

so i am compiling a list of various treatments for it

-a day walking around town taking pictures and looking at art.

-permission to accept a very generous offer from a friend to go to mexico... and permission to enjoy it.

-a fresh haircut.

-a massage from a very dear friend.

-an inspiring book.

-as much of my friends as i can get before any/all of them kick me out.

-lots of hugs.

-rose quartz.

-a little note hiding in my pocket reminding myself that i deserve/accept all the happiness i can handle.

-lots of baths.

-and dancing.

any other ideas?

off the map

2009-06-26T11:26:00.005-08:00

zane just introduced me to a film he loves called 'off the map'. it is a touching walk through the ups and downs of love and life, and a quiet tribute to dedication. the works of artist stan berning are featured in the film, including this stunning 40'w X 20"h watercolor painting. i've been thinking about it for days.

to see the entire piece, visit the section of his website dedicated to the 'off the map' project. i promise you won't be disappointed...

it bubbles

2009-06-08T16:39:00.003-08:00

so i've never been much of a diligent student... social and creative activities have always taken precedence. one fine example is the immediate space around me.

book reading
tea drinking
blog posting
music listening
picture taking
... and textbooks closed.

oh, the choices we make to fill our lives with our own brands of personal bliss.

sunshine spring pt. 1

2009-05-22T14:38:00.003-08:00

sunshine spring pt. 2

2009-05-22T14:21:00.005-08:00

first day of my life

2009-05-15T22:57:00.004-08:00

this bright eyes song i heard first at a the wedding of some acquaintances of mine. it's a song that pulls at my heart strings, and reminds me always of the joy of love.

...

2009-05-13T12:11:00.002-08:00

week two in my new treetop home and all i can do is sit here and feel so grateful for the course and direction that my life has taken. at this time last year i was just beginning to emerge from heartache and the great transition from a city i called home for 5 years. today i feel blessed and embraced and alive in a way entirely new to me. i feel as though i have been reborn for the fifth, seventh, hundredth time in this little life.

almost.

2009-04-07T19:54:00.002-08:00

i have been spending a few years now actively cultivating enjoyment of moments without expectations, but today i feel like regressing because i am very excited about some almosts.

number 1: it is almost a full moon. and no matter how crazy the energy around me gets, full moon energy never ceases to tickle and delight me.

number 2: it is almost time for wednesday night social. my new and lovely friends emily, sara, and sabrina host this gathering of creative minds. i feel lucky to be a part of this.

number 3: it is almost the day that my mom was born 58 years ago.

number 4: it is almost thursday and thursday is school day.

.................................................................................................................

as i write, i realize that there are many many more things to write and that makes me happy.

inspiration

2009-01-27T14:10:00.003-08:00

i have just stumbled again upon one of my favorite passages by anais nin that has been tucked away inside of an old dust-covered journal

"most of my life has been spent in enriching as well as i could the long, long waiting for the great events which fill me now so deeply that i am overwhelmed. now i understand the terrific restlessness, the tragic sense of failure, the deep discontent. i was waiting. this is the year of expansion, of true living. all the rest was a preparation. thirty years of anguished watchfulness. and now these are the days i lived for. and to be aware of this, so fully aware, that is what is almost humanly unbearable. human beings cannot bear the knowledge of the future. to me, the knowledge of the present is just as dazzling. to be so acutely rich and know it!"

it gives me chills as it did so many years ago when i read it for the first time. i read it again now, however, with a sense of empathy for her plight instead of with the longing i felt in my early twenties.

i think i really like being 30.

thank you sunshine

2009-01-13T16:50:00.002-08:00

backyard inspiration

phenomenal light

it's a good year so far...

2009-01-03T14:36:00.002-08:00

for the last few years, i have consciously rejected the notion of new year's resolutions for similar reasons to those my friends have given when asked why they reject 'hallmark holidays': why one day more than the next, why only one day, why does the capitalist marketplace have control over my expression of thought and feeling?
and while it is true that i made my resolutions before the new year, i will state here that they are new year's resolutions.

1. find play again everyday.
2. write more.
3. start those projects that have been floating around in my brain for too many years.
4. be a better friend.
5. be a better daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt, cousin and niece.
6. read more nonfiction.
7. get out of debt.
8. forgive myself for not being perfect.
9. start volunteering for the village free school.
10. travel.
11. keep dancing.
12. find new reasons to love my life everyday.
13. be nice.

... i think that'll be enough to keep me busy for a while.

birthday magic

2008-11-25T11:43:00.001-08:00

i turned 30 last week. this monumental birthday has been the most anticipated and most longed-for birthday of my adult life. i feel as though i now have official permission to start growing younger. below is a little chronicle of my oregon coast birthday adventure...

natya leela

2008-11-11T14:25:00.001-08:00

as i am having the tiniest bit of trouble uploading this video, below is a link to a performance we had recently for the fall cultural series at the salem public library.

the piece is called thodaya mangalam

enjoy!

family

2008-09-11T13:43:00.001-08:00

... home... the womb-like environment where the same existential questions invariably produce different answers to the ones posed in a different environment. for all of the bittersweet idiosyncrasies, life is more full and more whole because of family. little do i realize until i've been away for a year, two years (a small lifetime), how vital the lifeblood of family is. and even more surprising is, after each little lifetime away, the love remains the same.

behind their chocolate eyes, nestled somewhere beneath their indian cheekbones and olive skin, rests the heart of a family whose blood is gold, and whose bones are made of the steel and iron of mothers, and protectors.

more good things...

2008-08-15T13:43:00.000-08:00

adventures

creative friends who let me hang out with them while they work

beautiful bounty

togetherin'

footprints

some of the good things that have been happening lately

2008-07-06T21:36:00.000-08:00

sunshine music

seaside

solstice

homages

togetherin'

backyards

tea

back in the saddle

2008-06-10T10:48:00.000-08:00

after an extended hiatus, i have again begun to move my body on the dance floor. as in years past when i have taken a break from mirrors and raised floors and stages and costumes, i have reflected upon what it means to be a dancer. just as the question often arises in my mind as i walk through my days, 'what does it mean to be an artist?', i find myself thinking of the process rather than the product of my passions.

i have stumbled, quite fortuitously onto bharanathayam, one of the seven forms of classical indian dance, and into a community of dancers of varying backgrounds who approach the dance with the true love of those who feel the rhythm of dance coursing through their veins. as we took the stage last saturday, i gave pause to wonder how i could have stayed away so long... and then i looked at these ladies smiling and embodying this classical southern indian dance form, and the answer became clear: dancing is in the blood (as artistry is), and does not need tangible evidence to be real.

... the first photo is of our entire troupe, with our teacher suba standing in traditional costume in front. the second is a more playful (and maybe more accurate) representation of us posing in our favorite animal poses.

oh me, oh my!

2008-05-28T12:32:00.000-08:00

these last few weeks have been a flurry of activity, small joys, challenges, and a beautiful settling of myself into the first place i have called home in well over five years...

here is a short list of some of the events of the last little while:

my horoscope for the week

2008-05-09T08:16:00.000-08:00

You're not any more narcissistic and egotistical than the rest of us, but this week happens to be your special time to make amends for being that way. Therefore, I recommend that you try the following corrective measures: 1. Every day, do three things motivated by compassion that are helpful to people you know. 2. For a few minutes each day, use your imagination to get inside the mind of someone you care about and see the world through his or her eyes. 3. Every day, take at least one action that will in some way beautify your environment, contribute to the well-being of strangers, or help save the world.

... the past few months here have been a re-awakening for me of my connection with the universe as a whole. in this opening, i have begun to feel (along with many many others) a great shift happening. whether one believes in the validity of astrology or not, there is an undeniable physiological shift that occurs when planets move and shift (think of what happens during tidal shifts at full moon time... whoa!), and if we begin to listen to the voice (rotations, axis', sun exposure, relative place in the universe, etc.) of the universe, we can better understand what an incredible opportunity we all have to help heal our own sick planet. this horoscope is for me a reminder of the path i would like to walk upon on my journey toward health and ultimate fulfillment.

step 1: participate in a positive community... the boys at together gallery have embraced me and asked me to become a part their community. i am now their newest official volunteer!

step 2: make a positive difference in the life of a child... i've been lucky enough to be accepting into the volunteer summer reading program at my local library. this summer i get to hang out with tiny people and share my love of reading.

step 3: infect others with positivity... i have made it my mission in each of the cities i have lived in to smile at strangers. this is the first city where people regularly smile back.

step 4: accept help from others...

and we're off!

2008-04-29T15:18:00.000-08:00

i received my very first idea via postcard from denmark!

[thank you carmen for your wonderfully inspiring idea.]

i can't wait to get started on this new project

... and i double can't wait to receive more!

tomorrow promises to be a day of sunshine, and:

cinco de mayo festivities

afternoon barbeque with ribs by chef sandro

beer

badminton

friends (big and little)

movies projected onto barns

AND

bowling.

i'm coming to really enjoy what happens when the sun comes out in portland.

love illuminated

2008-04-26T20:49:00.000-08:00

... this is a photo of my mama and i a few summers ago. her beauty and radiance is a constant inspiration to me.

sun setting on a cherry tree

2008-04-22T11:27:00.000-08:00

... this is the backyard at my new work, alu. it's gonna be a beautiful summer.

open call for ideas...

2008-04-21T10:49:00.000-08:00

i've always been fascinated by ideas and imagination and how the pictures people have in their minds about other people's ideas vary so greatly.

i have just begun a project and i'd like to know if you would like to work with me.

i will be collecting your

ideas visions themes ... or anything you want to see a picture of

if you would like to share any of those things with me,

i will then take a photograph of my interpretation of your idea...

and i will send you the photograph in an envelope made just for your image.

please send your idea to my mailbox.

jamie evans

4213 se 26th ave.

portland, or. 97202

ps... i will be documenting the process to eventually make into a book of ideas. if you don't want me to use your name, let me know and i'll make one up for you.

pps... anything goes.

... this is somebody else's idea on my face.

a good time for art

2008-04-17T16:26:00.000-08:00

the past month has been a mind-altering and inspiring time for art. i have had the opportunity to see some phenomenal works and collections of art. today began with a field trip to the portland art museum with my art education class. i must admit to being a bit skeptical, but instead had my mind blown by recent acquisitions of beautiful works by van gogh, matisse, monet, toulouse lautrec, raushenburg, kiki smith, ... i found myself on my knees a few times after laying eyes upon some particularly marvelous works by louise bourgeois (a firecracker of a woman born the same year as my tiny nana who reminds me more than a little of her) and marcel duchamp. for a museum in a not-so-big city, i was amazed by the breadth and magnitude of their collections (a great many pieces have been gifted to the museum) in their contemporary wing alone.
this week especially has gotten me to thinking about the division between thinking about and feeling art. the spark for these thoughts came after seeing portland-based artist marie watt speak about her recent work. her work focuses on indigenous cultures, ideas about home, and community-building (through well-fed sewing circles). she was refreshingly open and presented important social commentary with honesty and depth of emotion.
my exposure to the art world during the past few years has been in thinking about art, dissecting art, and sterilizing the most beautifully messy aspects of the artistic endeavor.
i had almost allowed myself to disconnect from the importance of art as therapy. not only in creating art, but in looking at art do we have occasion to celebrate and feel.

...neither photograph adequately represents the grandeur of the each piece. the first by marie watt, entitled braids, is over 10 feet tall and 22 feet long. the second by kiki smith, entitled saint genevieve is about 8 feet tall and 12 feet long and is equipped with a motion sensor that plays the sounds of wolves crying. they are both incredibly evocative.

excerpt from 'letter to a friend'

2008-04-13T09:29:00.000-08:00

recipe for a beautiful day:

[from the backyard]
sunshine
clove-scented blankets
birdsong
dandelions

[from the farmers' market]
arugula
sweet baguette
venison pate' (country-style)
crumbly sheep cheese
the knowledge of shared delights

[from the pantry]
mint mate' (cold)
coarse sea salt
olive oil

mix in desired quantities and enjoy!

... yesterday was an inspired day, a tickler of a day. it was sunshine and warmth and silliness and a sweet introduction to a sultry summer.

the first law of thermodynamics

2008-04-10T14:35:00.000-08:00

'the first law states that energy is neither created nor destroyed. it may change form, go from one place to another, or be degraded into less usable forms.'
-moran, human adaptability

YEAH! so, energy becomes a shape-shifter. it degrades, and regenerates constantly, taking on different forms and adapting to the environment as it sees fit to maintain homeostasis.
each and every little thing we do has an effect on the environment (living and non-living). our interactions, foodsteps, consumption, etc. affects the people, terrain, and resources in this messy, confusing, exhilarating system we call life.

it kinda blows my mind a little.

... speaking of energetic resonance: i have a new friend. he's two.

first thursday

2008-04-04T10:45:00.000-08:00

i got my first real taste of the art scene here in portland last night. i mingled with a refreshingly diverse segment of the population during 'first thursday' in old town. the balmy evening enticed a plethora of individuals out into the open air; asian couples in mercedes', hipsters on fixies, hippies, street kids, white and blue collar alike. the art, like the people, was a top-notch representation of said diversity. there was a really special show at the pony club featuring the art of two new friends, david wien and seth neefus, along with a variety of other wonderfully talented artists (including a surprise appearance by animal sleep stories, the works of daria tessler). the most simultaneously intriguing, and anxiety-inducing opening was at the core gallery. the gallery itself is 3 1/2 feet tall and required entrance through a crawl space on hands and knees (which for the claustrophobes of the world, like me, is very scary). the collaborative efforts of artists alisha wessler and cin shepard, as well as the audio soundscapes of stirling myles produced '2 years under olaf's sun', and eerily beautiful exhibit in an uncanny space.
... as an added bonus, i got a mini beer tour hosted by an awesome new friend. it was nice.

i'm falling in love...

2008-04-02T17:27:00.000-08:00

observations:

people say 'thank you' when they get off the bus.
geared bicycles far outnumber fixed-gear bikes.
it sometimes snows in april.
there are lots of co-ops.
i once went to a supermarket for my favorite ice cream. it was a ghost town.
jury's out on the hipsters. they might be nice.
lots of musicians don't ask people to pay for their shows.
the water company has replaced water with beer in its municipal supply.
people smile.
communities participate.
the only year-round farmers' market is 8 blocks away.
the most common bumper sticker is a green heart inside the state of oregon.
it is sold at supermarkets and co-ops alike.
the largest used bookstore in the country lives here. it's big.
it's easy to fall in love with yourself when you're looking.

a break from inessential insanities

2008-04-01T16:16:00.000-08:00

i am revisiting 'another roadside attraction' again (for the third admittedly hedonistic time) and can't keep my mind from a particularly poignant (albeit silly) passage. this passage is like a song on repeat in my internal walkman... headphones on loud, giving my boots a run for their money around this new city.

'there are essential and inessential insanities. the latter are solar in character, the former are linked to the moon.
inessential insanities are a brittle amalgamation of ambition, aggression, and pre-adolescent anxiety. garbage that should have been dumped long ago. essential insanities are those impulses one instinctively senses are virtuous and correct, even though peers may regard them as coo coo.
inessential insanities get one in trouble with oneself. essential insanities get one into trouble with others. it is always preferable to be in trouble with others.
in fact, it may be essential.'

--the brilliant modern-day sage of facetious, tom robbins

something new from something found

2008-03-30T10:58:00.000-08:00

this is a little meditation on life that i wrote a few weeks ago.
i'd like to share it with you.

'...to be more comfortable inside my skin:
it pushed and pulled and broke me so many times.
it demanded of me a strength i didn't know i possessed.
san francisco was five years of falling down and forcing myself back up
to face the melee.
it exhausted me and took fro me the lightness of being
i had known in san luis obispo.
it forced me into submission and forced me to make a reckoning with myself.
to live by the rules of none but myself (a realization i admittedly did not come to easily)
is to live by my dreams.
i ached and screamed and bled by san francisco to be able to be here--
in portland for my self and by my self.'

a different kind of spring

2008-03-28T09:11:00.000-08:00

i went to sleep last night wanting to share a poem about the beauty of spring in this post today, but instead...
i awoke earlier than normal thinking that i had wrestled myself from the throes of a bad dream and rose to test out the day. as i wandered around my house sleepy-eyed and slightly grumpy, i tried to recall the source of my nocturnal torment, but found an easy and incredibly pleasant distraction
snow.
yes, it is snowing and it is beautiful.
whenever i have the opportunity to experience snow, i do so with alacrity. when i visit my parents in indiana in the winter, my mom and i establish a routine about snow. my mom watches faithfully for me and upon sighting the first flurries never fails to announce, "look binky, it's snowing!" in that way my childlike enthusiasm can be fostered well into adulthood and i can greet new days with infectious glee.
my housemate rose this morning initially dismayed by another cold day, but quickly found a new perspective after witnessing my excitement.
with a big grin, she announced that the universe sent the snow just for me.

more rain = beautiful abundance

2008-03-26T20:43:00.000-08:00

speaking of abundance... portland never seems to be without a plethora of interesting events, one of which i was delighted to be a part of last night. i had the opportunity to see a wonderful shadow puppet show at valentine's, called ice cream truck face. if they're in your neighborhood, flag them down and check out their hijinks.

and later...

2008-03-24T14:58:00.000-08:00

i had the opportunity last night to be a part of small and sweet closing party at the together gallery. i got to meet the artists/owners as well as a few friends, one of whom is installing for the next show today. they were wonderfully kind, open, inspired, talented(!) and unguarded group of people i have experienced in a gallery setting in a long time.
a great weight feels like it is lifting as i settle into my life here in portland and close the chapter of san francisco. i feel the opportunity for growth within a positive community is truly possible here.

... and it smells nice, too.

if you want to check out the last show at together (mark's teepee!) or want to see what's coming up, it's worth the extra few minutes.

sunny days are here

2008-03-24T08:07:00.000-08:00

saturday was the blissful (despite my love of rain) freedom from precipitation. the cold and crisp early spring morning promised birdsong and families out en masse shopping for seed. at the co-op, eager children grabbed at seed packets, drawn by the beautiful colors and plump vegetables while moms followed them patiently and explained which seeds would sprout best and which they had to wait for. the springs excitement was palpable. people gathered to converse and share stories of winter hardships and spring growth. saturday was a day for garage sales, lawn mowers, bicycles and the re-emergence of winter projects half-forgotten. for me it was an opportunity to free my lenses from their caps and share some inspiration.
...happy equinox... belated...

the first photo was from the train yard near my house. i've been eyeing those cars, and after my housemate told stories about freight hopping friends, well...
the second is early spring in my backyard.

life is nice.

day one

2008-03-13T15:02:00.000-08:00

this is a photo taken at portland state. each white flag represents approximately five iraqi lives lost. the red flags indicate every american life lost. it seems so easy for an installation like this to become cliche, but i found it to be moving in its simplicity. the juxtaposition of the flags against the stark winter landscape evokes a feeling of profound melancholy and compassion for those living amidst the stark reality of war. although there is so much i fail to comprehend about war, statements like this never cease to pull me from my consumer-driven haze and into a state of pensive (and in this case inspired) reflection.

new(s) days

2008-03-11T14:42:00.000-08:00

i just moved to portland after much time and talk about it. in an endeavor to connect those i love most with my very first days here, i have decided to make this little blog with a photo a day for the first month i'm here.
i hope you enjoy the photos and can walk next to me for a little minute while i explore this beautiful new place.

i love you all so much.

james

it remains to be seen

2005-09-18T13:30:00.000-08:00

surrounded by all (most) of the chaos in my life, i decided to embark upon a new adventure-- the blog. inspired by a spine-tingling, clammy handed, voice cracking, nerve wracking speech about the world of blogs, i gave in and started my own. after years of vacillation, the day has come. here it is to tickle, tease, and delight.
cheers!
james