Burn Out

Long drive to from Saumur back to Paris to drop the rental car (nightmare) and ride the Eurostar to London. Am bedded down for a spoiled nite in a corporate suite. We are staying in Mayfair right near Hyde Park. The ride from the train station past the parliament building, with only a glimpse of Buckingham Palace, is reminiscent of the buildings of Boston (New England, don’t cha know). I have now morphed into a big homesick, grumpy, ungrateful baby. There. I said it. Yes, yes, everything is old, ya got yer castles, and lots and lots of art, ya got yer Kings and Queens. Got it. Where are my kitties?

I haven't watched any TV is several weeks and Dame Shirley Bassey belting out Pink's 'Get this Party Started' in her top of the charts video on Brit TV is a surreal sight, indeed. Gold Fing-ah...

Tomorrow we explore the environs for a day or so...then back to Paris to catch a flight home. Whew!

Garden of Eden

July 23 2007
Today began slowly, with a quiet breakfast downstairs at the chateau, and then making train travel arrangements at the gare. We stopped and bought our hosts Yolaine and Teri an olive tree in downtown Saumur. We stopped at an amazing savonnerie for fresh made soaps, and then on to the Abbey at Fontevraud. Beautiful and having gone under many series of restorations from it’s origins in the 11th century, including a 19th century prison. Beautifully preserved effigies of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry II, and Richard the Lionheart from the early 12th century. Amazing. I use that word a lot.

On our way from the Abbey back to Saumur, there were beautiful rain clouds…we chose a very, very country road, full of grapes and sunflowers (is there anything else to life, really? I don’t think so!). The road took us up and over a high crest of a grape vine covered hill overlooking the rainy sky expanse of the Loire Valley…as if that wasn’t enough, a rainbow emerged bridging the winding river—and shimmered into and out of colorful being. Wow...the valley is just full of apple and pear orchards, wheat and hay fields...giant fig trees everywhere...mushrooms and of course, grapes, grapes, grapes...! The roses are just astonishing, and some rows of grape vines have rose bush finials...other fields are bordered in dreamy rose bushes...the old stone walls of churches and chateaux often have climbing varieties in full bloom, maybe 20 feet tall...flowers and roses everywhere in full splendor.

Driving Around in a Painting

July 22

Back to Saumur

The beautiful 17th century farm and B&B, La Cornilliere, owned by Didier (what a character!: “Oh, my wife, she does not like to send the guests to the provincial restaurants because they are too Frenchy, but I say, ‘When I go to New York, I do not want to eat in a French restaurant!’). The also had pet chickens to the farm… "they are stupid like the aristocracy!" and Catherine where we stayed last nite, had a nearby dolmen, “Grotto aux fees” right around the way in a wheat field. It is surrounded by large trees…amazing…amazing…amazing…

We headed south again back toward Luynes, to discover yet another amazing site: the many arches of a Roman aqueduct stretched across a farmer’s hay fields. Too cool.

We wended our way back to Yolaine’s chateau at Saumur to spend this lazy beautiful July afternoon, just lounging about.

I will have plenty of pics to go through when I get home for the photo journal- several thousand at least!

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July 21, 2007

The day began with sneaking up on Chenonceaux via a back road sans tourists, to come upon the bridge-like castle reflected in the river. Breathtaking.
We then went on to Loches on a hunch due to a flyer we’d seen about a Ren fair there. When we got to the center of the small town, there was a meager looking Ren fair set up in the town square which had been there a good 1000 years (the square not the fair), and with a closer look the artisans and players were revealed to be folks that were preserving the ancient ways of their (our) ancestors: wine, cheese, and preserved meat making, traditional medieval weaving, scabbard and blade making. D got a beautiful small spiral handled knife made my the knife maker at his forge. Wow. What a find. We starting driving out of town, and then quickly saw the enormous castle keep rising from the small town. We parked and explored, probably, the most amazing medieval castle we’ve seen: the fortress of Folques Nerra, King of Anjou, circa 1000-ish AD. Wow. We’d seen the remnants of a Folques Nerra fortress at the beautiful medieval chateau Langeais, as well. This bigger, totally amazing castle in Loches, was also the site in the 1400’s when Jean d’Arc met the dauphin-to-be-king for the second time, after winning the battle of Orleans, and convinced him to ride into France and claim the crown as Charles (whichever number). We explored the keep with its spiral stair towers and historical graffiti that let to the incredible vista of the valley, which surely revealed any approaching marauding army…and of course the dungeons for political prisoners. We tired about before seeing the later church and chateau in the vicinity.

Without a room for the nite, we headed toward Tours (sort of), and stopped in Cormery to call our previous lodging to see if they had a vacancy (on a Saturday nite in high season). Of course, they didn’t, but had a referral, and that place had a referral, and another referral, and so did the next, etc, until we found this AMAZING little place in Mettray. It is gentleman’s farm of the most amazing sort- beautiful little houses surrounding the main estate house- gardens and gardens, surrounded by wheat and sunflower fields. Our room’s door is wreathed in an old grape vine and when we returned from dinner, fresh figs from the garden were on our little breakfast table. Dreamy. The couple who owns it, of course, speak beautiful English and are full of personality—showing us every corner of the property and gardens including the soon to be restored pigeonnere. Love it. Then off to dinner at a wonderful, very local restaurant for homemade treats of all sorts, and of course, local wine, wine, wine.

Tomorrow it is back to Saumur for two days before whisking thru Paris on our way to London for a couple of days, and then back to Paris to catch the plane home.

A Gargoyle-ing We Go!

I had good intentions of keeping a detailed dairy of our travels, but there is so much to see and do, and the French summer sun doesn't set until nearly 10:30pm so, by the time we return to the hotel, it is time to crash. We've been chateaux-ing a great deal. The ruins of Cinq-Mars de Pile were amazing. It is owned by a little old French man who teaches at a school of architecture in Paris during the week, lives at the chateau at the base of the fascinating towers on the weekends and during summer, tending to the chateau his father bought. We tend to like the ones that are earlier and have had less 19th century restoration- even if they are falling down...the Chateaux at Langeais was stunning too- fairy tale spires...and finding the ones that can only be driven to, avoids the tourists...last night at an overnight in Tours, we stumbled upon the stunning Cathédrale St-Gatien, built between 1239 and 1484..with AMAZING gargoyles a-plenty!
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Earlier:

I keep putting off starting another entry, because there is so much I want to write, and so little time I am willing to spend writing it, with all this beauty around me…Our days have been filled with drives through the Loire valley roads- on the opposite side from the levee- we are near Saumer…and the beautiful towns of Candes St Martin…the champingnon farmers in their troglodytes….the endless eglises, one after the next- each with their own interest- Notre Dame at Treves-Cunault with it’s fortress tower next door and four-faced baptismal font…the stunning “tuffa” towns…flowers, flowers everywhere and fields and field of Van Gogh loved sunflowers. Sunflowers. Sunflowers—L’Helianthe…flowers tall as me all over the place….church after church after church after wonderous church- places of power before Christianity…L’eglise Saint Aubin at Treves with the mud dauber birds that seem to inhabit so many old churches, especially, perhaps holding the spirits of those that have gone before in their soaring flight to and fro the eaves…l’eglise Eusee at the hilltop in Gennes where we walked the churche’s walled outer paths and discovered a small carves stone figurine…I love all the many, many, many carved faces that line the eaves of the churches- funnily looking for replicas in the design, yet knowing each was carved by a stone artisan by hand… and gargoyle rainspouts who wretch and hold their tummies, and make faces- sometimes human, demonic, angelic, monkish, animalia, fantasia…the several Neolithic dolmens we searched and searched for- that simply arrive from a farmer’s fields of sunflowers- where he is happy to allow you to tread lightly on his land to take in the spectacle…the Gallo-Roman amphitheater near genes under excavation with it’s later hermitage and empty sarcophagus of the early monk who came to convert the populous. Plessis Bourré’s Conte de Fées fairy-tale castle with moat included…and miles of island speckled river- sometimes wide, sometimes narrow…the Chateau at Montsorreau with its lovely spires and stone walls rising right out of the water- we could climb inside and see the miles down the Loire and over the valley…the Chateau Saumur high on the town hill, lit at night with it’s spires…seen from the window of the chateau we are staying at- Chateau Verrieres…the bridge crossing the Loire coming into town- and the view of the bank of the river with the town and castle rising from the green, low bank…lavender and sage growing wild wild wild everywhere everywhere…and chestnut trees (the US doesn’t have any)…we’ve been warned by our eloquent hosts to keep the beautiful chateau casement windows closed in our bedroom while our lights are on- for bats will fly into our room! The late July bugless nights are so cool we sleep with the windows open wide to the view of the castle and tall garden trees…Uno, the doggie, begs for treats at our table in at breakfast and sleeps at Dave’s feet when we took tea tonight after dinner in our (long) talk with a couple of Aussie guests.

Loire

So, I have another long blog entry about the past few days on D's laptop, but I'm at (weird) cyber cafe in France and cannot upload it...lots of incredible everything's, and D is taking a gazillion beatiful pics...Much, much, more later...

Vive La France!

I might as well start what is surely to be a long post on our 2-plus weeks in France. We've been in Paris about five days, and have discovered the beauty of the New Orleans-esque cimetières. Stumbling upon the Cimetière de Montparnesse and the grave of Camille Saint-Saëns was the first of the solemn, quiet, and shady fun. We visited Cimetière de Passy and both Fauré and Debussy's graves, as well as the Cimetière de Montmarte and Nijinsky's grave...the cimetières are so beautiful and the statuary completely amazing.

We've had some outstanding French food at a couple of quiet restaurants, and the deeeeeelish bread (thankfully baked in the US, aussi!) at the boulangers et pâtisseries. I love how every block has the boulanger, the charuterie et boucherie, the veggie stand, the toiletry shop, etc, etc. The experience of daily shopping has so much more of a community feel than going to a giant supermarket. We even had to find the electricity shop to buy batteries- a tiny little place that sold only electrical things like light bulbs, etc- sort of an Old World Radio Shack...including a young guy behind the counter who wanted to speak English and tell us how he learns it from listening to American music...

Other highlights have included the Palais Garnier, and the out of the way Domaine de Marie-Antoinette at Versailles, which no one seems to know about (yay!)...

Our first night we stayed near the Louvre, and the surreal Coney Island amusement park nearby. I also did not expect our lovely view of Paris from the hotel room to include le Tour Eiffel bursting into a show of Las Vegas sparkles at midnight! Apparently that happens every hour until about 4am! Hahahaha! We've spent the last few night au rive gauche in St Germain in a little hotel with a great view of Sacré-Coeur de Montmartre....and of course a glimpse of the funny ferris wheel near the Louvre in the foreground.

The heart of Parisienne culture seems to be people watching and cafe fare at the extremely smokey brasseries. A delightful unfortunate idea: the clouds and clouds of cigarette smoke are deal-breakers. Pardonnez-moi, mes amis Parisiennes, mais cesser de fumer!

D has a business meeting here in Paris Monday, and that afternoon we rent a car and venture to the Loire Valley to Saumer; and a stay at the lovely Château de Verrières for more explorations...

D has been taking yards of pics...will post lots later...

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Ok, back now from a lovely dinner at a tres cool restaurant non-fumer I found called Giufeli south of the Cimetière de Montparnasse. Very chic and very small and very casual, and the young chef greets you, yum, yum, yum....

Earlier we'd gotten a call from a business associate of D's to join him and his wife on their rooftop flat at the base of le Tour Eiffel for the Bastille Day fireworks. Well, there ya go. And lemme tell ya, the French are très sérieuse about their fireworks. Holy mackerel. I've never seen anything like it. A little pic D took is above from the breathtaking evening. The crowd below spanned the whole of the Champs de Mars...with a light show on the Trocadero. The music was surreal: medleys of West Side Story, the James Bond and Star Wars themes....where was Gloire immortelle?

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Today brought us to both l'église Saint-Gervais and Saint-Paul Saint-Louis...beautiful, tranquil, cool (on such a hot day) and full of incense and quietude. Ah...

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I will upload many pics or a link to Flickr later, but another cool thing is the river boat culture...there are beautiful gardened river boats with tiny cars atop for touring through the intricate river systems no doubt, or just living la vie en rive, je pense. Just like the gypsy river boats in Chocolat!

From Atop the Summer Solstice

An auspicious day, no doubt, and opening night of Opera Vista, and the premier "Wake..." check out the Houston Chronicle

Here we go...I am doing less today, and just hanging out as the rain comes down...getting ready to soon gear up for the evening...

Mare Pacificum and The Ent

Christmas Day, 2007 led D and I on pilgrimage to the coast. The wide, glorious ebb and flow of Charybdis’ belching tides careened and smashed into the craggy cliffs where the mountains cool their toes. The Oregon seaside was white-gray with clouds and the waves: huge. The biggest waves I have ever seen- breaking far out beyond the black today towering coast rocks, folding over the velveteen aqua-seafoam rippled crests, carrying driftwood to the cliff base for smoothing...Glorious Tiamat swirling and stirring her sea to anger.

The sky’s white met the sea-white horizon, hanging a haze over the dripping, cool, but somehow warm(?) day…and the greens! My goodness! The greens! Every evergreen that ever evered seemed to grow here by the ocean….and the sea took great delight in her bonsai art, sweeping conifers into permanant wind blown shapes. And so many greeny green green trees are cloaked in their winter lichen velour wear. A little finch with bright yellow rock-n-roll eye makeup flitted about for her photoshoot.

On the Visit to the Ent

Reluctantly leaving the coast, and tip-top full drunk on Sea Vibe, we headed back toward Portland. And there on route 26, surprisingly was a sign that pointed to the oldest Sitka spruce in the country, who, at 750 had just last week been severely damaged in a vilent storm. We U-turned and pulled off the road, crossed a little bring and there he was…it was as though we’d entered a hushed cathedral- the nearby road noise pushed out by the sanctity of the place, adn no other humans near. His enormous wide base and trunk was nubbled and lichen covered and branches finally spread out near his top. A searing gap had opened in the tree about ¾ of the way up the trunk, cutting a deep spiral gouge, and the platform was littered with bloody, meaty, sawdust-like wood-tissue. Even though the tree and his wooden platform had been roped off due to falling branches (and perhaps a final whole-tree fall), we took our chances, ventured close, caressed, sent love, bowed and honored the spruce in all his grandeur. He was surrounded by his towering, vibrant, full grown children…standing watch, holding vigil for him.

After the Storm

So I haven't posted in forever... My beloved took these amazing pics in Portland, Oregon- just after that big storm came through this week...Mount Hood and the Port of Portland...

In the Spring We Eat Cucumbers

We must have beginner's mind, free from possessing anything, a mind that knows everything is in flowing change. Nothing exists but momentarily in its present form and color. One thing flows into another and cannot be grasped. Before the rain stops we hear a bird. Even under the heavy snow we see snowdrops and some new growth. In the East I saw rhubarb already. In Japan in the spring we eat cucumbers. -Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Music is a continual state of becoming - Aaron Copeland

So far, so good this week. Class was fun, and brushing up on this theory stuff is only going to be good medicine. Plus, I have designs (hee hee) on putting up a theory site, basically, just a way to solidify the studies for myself. How nerdy am I?

Rehearsal today with R, harp, cello, etc, and we’ll be open to Gabby Faure visiting.

I'll Have Another Ordinary Sunday, Thank You...

I am up painfully early, especially for a Sunday, and have been whiling away several hours doing nothing but tea-ing. I was doing some mandatory printing of documents to help out D, and the printer ran out of ink. Thankfully.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed and excited about the mountains of work I have for this autumn: HGO, classes, lessons, coachings, and much fun creating recordings and original music for Toni's performance piece at DiverseWorks.

Very thrilled about this coming week’s recording session with Herr R and gang.

So I get these little Daily Dharma nuggets in my mailbox every morning. The one below, I like because it is the same about the practice of preparing the way for music to happen: I don't practice music, I practice the craft of creating a path for music to visit...

Tricycle's Daily Dharma: August 27, 2006

Awareness cannot be practiced.

Awareness cannot be practiced. There has been some confusion between awareness and mindfulness. They are related, but distinct. Sati, or mindfulness, implies there is action of the mind. We purposely set ourselves to pay attention to our minds. We exert effort. Awareness is different. Awareness is devoid of any action. The mind simply "awares." There is no action here, only a collected and spontaneous awareness that just "sees." Here, mindfulness is the cause, and awareness is the effect. You cannot practice or train the effect. You can only practice something that will cause it. We have to start with mindfulness so that awareness may arise in us.

- Thynn Thynn, in Living Meditation, Living Insight
from Everyday Mind, edited by Jean Smith, a Tricycle book


Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Back from the weeklong trip to NY and NE. Tired and, as expected, having difficulties resuming my usual level of practice, discipline, activity. Motivation low.

House is clean. Tea is taken. On to practice.

Grateful is the day...

Ah, late morning rains finally relieve the pavement of her Texas July heat and serve a sacrament to our garden…

Oh, how I love the sound of the steady summer rains against the street, pattering the bougainvillea leaves outside my window..

Recording day looms, as in tomorrow…I’m feeling pretty darn good about it, actually. Feeling prepared, if only a tad nervous. I’m anxious to get my new system and explore recording onsite myself- very different both technically and musically from my recordings here at home…

Another red-letter day in the project success department for D. We live truly blessed lives…truly…

Summer Sizzle

The rains step into the morning

with their darkness and
kindness to the garden.

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Y’know, mean people suck. End of story, there. Bitter, mean people suck too. I guess in order to be mean you must be bitter also.

I continue to make gentle headway in dealing with difficult personalities. My tolerance for unacceptable behavior has lowered and my antennae to detect Nasty Types are becoming more fine tuned. I am very easy to work with, and I sometimes allow things to go too far before putting my foot down, but I am getting better at setting boundaries and figuring out what ‘too far’ is before I get there. This is facilitated by my increasing awareness of the creative direction my life is taking, coupled with my ability to manifest my creative work in the world.

Oh, yeah, and after seeing The Inconvenient Truth: Al Gore for President 2008!

Impossible is Nothing*

Monday, June 12, 2006

Basement time is history acting on us.

Ordinary time is awareness of time-flow.

Conscious time is knowing a present moment, and its extent.

Creative time is the future reaching back, pulling us towards it. – R. Fripp.

Not having a high pressure performance this weekend has helped me to take a good long look at my continued case of nerves. I wrote a blog entry that went unposted about some serious-ass performance anxiety, and how I did, or did not deal with it. Consequently, the incident that created so much anxiety went very well, and I did get the gig, so I must be doing something right. I am poised and graceful and professional, etc, etc, but it certainly does not feel like I am capable of doing my best with nerves shorting out my breath, and wiring me up.

One technique that occurred to my yesterday and that I will employ tonight, is based on acceptance. If acceptance is such a powerful state (golly, I have to find a better word for it, because acceptance, to me, feels like resignation. What about self-compassion? Hmmm….that sounds pretty good). So the idea is this: the anxiety seems to be exacerbated by wanting to change how I am feeling: I should be able to control this! Relax! It is ridiculous to be so nervous! Take deep breaths. You will do fine. This is not a critical situation, etc, etc. My encouraging internal litany goes on and on, and you know what? That fails miserably. So, what if I just observe my body’s reaction to the stress, without trying to employ techniques that attempt to change that physical state? What if I just say, Ok, this is how my body and mind are feeling right now. So what. I am not wholly those parts of me. They are like the ever changing cloud cover that sweeps across the sky- constantly morphing. I will observe, and be compassionate with myself under these stressful circumstances. Sort of like holding the hand of a terrified 2 year old. Just being there is enough. I am hypothesizing that attitude may rob the fight-or-flight state of some of its power. I have not tried it, so we shall see, and since I am my own Life-Lab, I am my own great, evolving, intriguing, exciting, experiment.

Looking forward to the drive to Galveston today.

*From a Nike commercial? I added it to my Oblique Strategies that are ever in my workspace.

Ah, Rilke!

My life is not this vertical hour
in which you find me in such haste
I am a tree in front of my own background
I am only but one of my many mouths
and the one which is the first to close
I am the silence between two sounds
that only with difficulty grow used to one another
for the tone of death also wishes to be heard
but in the darkness of the interval
they make peace with one another, trembling
and the song remains beautiful

Rainer Maria Rilke

From Gaelin 's blog

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Ah, early summer rainy days. It is pitter-pattering outside the bougainvillea window right now. Gray loomed and has now given way. I just love this wrapped up in the clouds and the wet and the banana leaves dripping late morning feeling.

Working on the recording for T. Made gobs of headway.

Early rising.

Surfing

How lame is it that I am just now staring Faith straight in the face? I’ve not being able to pinpoint how I lost Faith, or how long I went without It, and now, in seeing Its re-emergence in my life, I have to ask, ‘what is Faith?’ How did It re-emerge, or more likely, how did I miss that it was here all along? Ah, sweet awareness! I am still not sure what Faith is, though I suspect it has something to do with my reclaimed feeling of surfing the Tao.

You won’t hear me prattle about religious faith, cuz that’s not where I’m coming from- though I’d say I’m somewhat of a Zen Buddhist/Taoist/Yogi/Earth Mystic. Enough for ya? It is has been through a vigilant, practical practice of noticing that Faith has re-emerged in my life, or that I have re-emerged to It. Not through prayer or belief. In fact, I am seeing quite clearly that belief and Faith are not the same thing, no siree, Bob. I’ve been down the prayer/belief road and found well nigh nothing there for me- perhaps some inspiration in ritual, which I hold a special place for, but few practical tools for living my life. I needed more structure and practical direction to get the gist of where The Universe was coming from. I’m not saying the prayer thing is of no use, I’m saying either it doesn’t work for me as I understood it, or I did not know what prayer really was about.

Some of my current thoughts on what Prayer is not:

Mumbling some mumbo jumbo in a building with a bunch of other folks where everyone droning on together sounds like a devil worship scene from a 70’s horror flick or a bad made-for-TV version of an Orwell classic.

Prayer is neither wishing, asking, begging, nor entreating (I love when I get to use ‘nor’).

Some of my current thoughts on what Prayer is:

a verb.

a doing.

a noticing and an awakening.

ultimate responsibility and ultimate freedom.

working it out with The Universe.

Being.

Prayer is all the above and none of the above (that’s the zen answer, thankyouverymuch).

Sub ‘Faith’ for ‘Prayer’ above. Same results.

Mirror Me This

Y’know, I’ve been singing forever. For more than years. And it was not until I’d taken on this particular practise of music, this discipline, that I really found just that: Discipline. A practise that is morphing, affirming, grounding, frustrating, painful, and delightful- a mirror, every day, a mirror held up to Being:
It changes as I do, but I continue anyway.
It shows me brilliance, and I water anyway.
It shows me pain and limitation, and I weed anyway.
It shows me endless fields of undulating potential, and I tend to it anyway.
It is a real, daily discipline of faith and wonder and transformation:

These things, methinks, are the difference between the hobbyist and the aspirant.

One definition of success is that there is no distinction between success & failure - R. Fripp.

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Music doesn't need to be about anything. It simply is, and that is by far enough.

It’s A Matter of Balance*

The learning never ends, I say. Why would I assume that it does? As I continue to interface with the creative-types I’ve always been involved with, I am now noticing some patterns- the way some people want to suck me into their drama, suck me into their agenda, in their strange unfulfilled need to have me (or someone) see things from their perspective. Maybe it is because I am such an empath, maybe it is because I am keenly aware that one of my physiological trips is trying to find replacements for older siblings- and that often creates a situation where I put myself in subordinate relationships. At least now I am onto all that and I am not just blindly reacting. I am not trying to change someone else, but I am changing.

A decision changes the world - R. Fripp

I have a tendency to want to agree with my friends and associates. I am finding now that it is ok not to agree. It’s ok not to want what they want. Isn’t that funny? So basic. I think this is at least partly because I am now getting clearer and clearer on what I want, and less and less sympathetic to what other people may want to use me for to achieve their aims. It so happens that due to the above, I’ve become extremely good at helping others’ do their thing- and in some ways, I had scarified my own needs on that altar.

I’m guessin’ this is what boundaries are all about. I find it shocking that I’d not seen this before, that I had not known this. It seems so obvious. It does, however, take constant vigilance, confidence, good old fashioned gumption, the sure-footedness of standing my ground, and of course, the biggie: the ability to say no.

*It's a Matter of Balance, Jacob, one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite people, Larry Reidt.

Caterpillar on a Hot tin Roof

I managed an absurd amount of practice today as well as time for zazen, an hour of yoga, and a lovely M Park workout.

The garden is beautifully out of control, though the sunflowers now have a discouraging itsy-bitsy worm blight that is causing the blooms to barely open. Nature.

We’ve spotted another chrysalis on the cassia and are waiting for the emergence. Yesterday we spotted a big fat cassia caterpillar on a nearby firecracker fern. He was up-side-down and ready to do his chrysalis spinning. This morning, I saw him in lovely form- up-side-down, tail affixed to a fern stem, and head dangling by a silken thread- all systems, go! Well, lo-and-behold, by this afternoon his chrysalis was complete and I’d missed the whole thing! Some awareness!

Creative meetings an much practice ahead this week. All wonderment.

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Saturday, April 15, 2006
I am tired of giving my power over to others. I am tired of having words coming out of other people’s mouths influence how I feel about myself. It is an exhausting, defeating rollercoaster. Words are all well and dandy when they are strung together to create encouragement and praise, but when they are laced with negativity, either couched toward me or others, they bring me down, man. Can words be de-powerized? I don’t know. My instinctive answer is, ‘No’. Words are simply too powerful. They are the raw material for prayer, incantation, vows, poetry, literature and song, as well as the tools for deceit, lies, betrayal.

I am becoming more aware to hear others’ agenda for me in their words (both good intentions and otherwise), or others’ own weight, drama, baggage, failures and shortcomings, that they may want to project onto me, perhaps unwittingly, perhaps not. I cannot accept this. I think I have strongly relied on the praise and affirmation of others and I have sought that (who doesn’t?). If I am to reject negative projections that are created to saddle me with somebody else’s issues, I must also not be fed by the praise, resisting the lure of how praise makes me feel ‘good’. There must be a middle ground where I can accept affirmation, and not seek it out, where I can be impervious (is anyone?) to the negativity that drains my energy and depresses my spirit.

Bayou Bend

Yesterday D and I went to Bayou Bend to stroll through the lovely gardens there. He took a number of amazing pics, including this one to the right, and the one below, of these enormous and astounding sycamores. There is a glorious bridge that serves as the entrance to the gardens and house, both of which are easily missed at the end of a nearly hidden road, secreted away from busy Memorial Drive. The bridge traverses the chocolaty and tree shaded bayou, and is an undulating, wooden suspension bridge, that I adore. Beautiful unidentified trees spring from the muddy banks and wrap their shade across the slowly flowing water.

A zen moment overheard in passing, upon our exit across the bridge:
Mum: Isn’t this a cool bridge? Do you like it?
Baby Girl: Why?

It doesn’t get better than that, yes?
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Today we potted a cassia from M’s yard next door since he’s sold the house and it will be demolished soon. We’ll be getting more plants from over there…

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Mistakes are at the centre of learning. – Guitar Craft

Discipline is a vehicle for joy

I admit to being quiet here for sometime, having suspended a daily diary discipline, though I have been writing nearly daily and continue to work on a larger as yet unidentifiable work based on poetry/lyrics- suspending my desire to define what it may become, and keeping some of that creative meat out of the blog.

As evidenced by these stellar pics, our garden is rockin’. When these Moon pains have passed I plan to launch a bee photo vigil. We have a particularly enormous bumble bee who visits the front garden in the late afternoon. I like to think he is the same bee, and even the same bee from last year- our five o’clock bumblebee. Yesterday I attempted to photo the many honey bees, but the breezes kept the fuzzy purple salvia blooms waving, and it was truly impossible to capture the bees’ delicious and gentle roostings.

"All the universe is one bright pearl," said the Zen Master Dogen. "Even in the black mountain cave of demons, complete freedom is working."