Ways to Kneel

“Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.” - Rumi 

 I feel like I’m living in a strange and horrible dream. It's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that my husband died unexpectedly just 7 months ago, and now there is a deadly pandemic. You know those old b/w movie reels of people trying to walk on a shifting floor of a Funhouse? That is kind of what it feels like to me, only not so fun.

I’m remembering my guiding symbol for 2020, Starling, and how the flock can shift directions on cue at a moments notice, creating those beautiful murmurations. I am doing the same...watching, listening, waiting, shifting. I also remember how creating and photography and journaling helped me thru the trauma I suffered on 9/11 so I’m going to retrace my steps, do what I know is my medicine. I worry about my son whose whole life has been turned upside down. It’s super isolating, just the two of us, tho I’ve lifted all screen time restrictions so he can gather with friends whenever he wants. He’s in remarkably good spirits as tho he’s on holiday. This gives me peace.

Yesterday I made tissue paper Forsythia. As one does during Pandemic, lol.  I used to buy armfuls of forsythia branches at the union square green market when I lived in NYC. I had to stop when my late husband moved into my flat because he was allergic - so I started making them. It's easy and relaxing. Because Spring is a season of rebirth and renewal, I sometimes make a ritual out of this, a touch of reverence, and think of something I’m grateful for as I glue each blossom to a branch. Sometimes I think about things I wish to see bloom in the world, as a kind of prayer or meditation.

I slept until 6 which is remarkable and refreshing. I rolled out of bed and onto the mat for my morning ritual of core/yoga combo, and a pep talk whilst facing the mountains. Since I dreamed of hummingbirds Tuesday night, the window feeder is out and ready for the return of our bold Bessie Coleman and the bossy Amelia Mary Earhart II. The nectar is a tad sweeter to restore their energy after a long flight.

Time and Place

I will no longer be silent.  I will open my mouth and let the bees fly out.  Making all the things that I that represent the words.  Building metaphorical bridges to take me where I want to go.

 

Postcards From the Edge

I want to get personal about why this event means so much to me.

I want to do that by introducing you to my late friend Jon aka Sheena aka Candy Apple.   It was the 80s and Jon came out to the Hamptons (where I was living at the time) to visit a dear friend who lived in the cottage beside mine. That is how I met him, and it was the beginning of a friendship that I will never forget.
I remember how he would sneak over and tape a sign to my bedroom window so it would be the first thing I would see when I woke up and lifted the shade. Signs that read: "I'm watching you", and "I'm telling your mother", and other such silliness.

I remember that whenever he had just a little too much to drink, he would start speaking in fake french to anyone and everyone within earshot. I remember the looks on those faces as they tried so hard to understand what he was saying, trying to be polite, when he wasn't actually saying anything at all.

I remember how whenever anyone left his home, he would always shout, "THANK GOD THEY LEFT", every single time, no matter who it was.

I remember how he called everyone, "Blanche".

I remember how my face would hurt from laughing and how those little muscles between each rib that you never seem to notice suddenly became painfully noticeable.

I remember that most, the laughter, which was really just a bi-product of how much he loved living his life, and how fully he did that.

Shortly after I moved to NYC, he called me to come over. He wanted me to take a look at his eye. "I think", he said, "it's some sort of sty, but maybe you'll know". And so I did. And I never could get that day out of my head. How when I looked at his eye, I could hear myself swallow and how I could not say the words "Kaprosi Sarcoma", but instead heard my own voice as though disconnected from my body saying, "that's not a sty...you really need to see a doctor". I don't remember what we did that day because I can only remember that one moment, that and the flashback of the man with the cane that I saw at a party years before covered in lesions, how we locked eyes because he knew he was dying and he knew that I knew too. I never knew his name, but I knew too much.

My friend did go to the doctor, and it was KS, and the rest of what happened felt like standing at the front door of the express train, not being able to see where you're going, whizzing past the local, the blur, and the only thing between you and sheer terror was a small window and a false sense of security. Or at least it seemed that way because shortly after his diagnosis, the disease began to paralyze him. I was with him in the hospital when his family arrived. It was the only time I ever saw him cry. The next time I saw him was in hospice. I hope he heard what I whispered into his ear.
The thing is, this is just one story of many stories that are all a part of one sad story. Many have lost friends, sons, daughters, lovers, spouses. It was a dreadful time of suffering, fear and loss. In the years that followed, I was witness to miracles in medicine, discoveries, testing, counseling, and medications. It may not have happened in time to save my friend, but it happened in time to save countless others.

So, that is why this benefit is important to me. That is why I give what I can give in the form of a postcard size piece of art. Because while I no longer work on the front lines, I can still give. I give myself.

In memory of Jon Steinbacher.

Seasonal Sprint

“Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery, teach me how to trust my heart, my mind, my intuition, my inner knowing, the senses of my body, the blessings of my spirit. Teach me to trust these things so that I may enter my Sacred Space and love beyond my fear, and thus Walk in Balance with the passing of each glorious Sun.”  ~Lakota Prayer

The Juncos have arrived and that means winter is not far behind them. The feathered ones are nature's weather app. There is a feeding frenzy in the feeder as they plump up for the coming season. I think of them as I peck at the keyboard, designing our family calendars for 2016. My goal is always to have our cards and calendars to the printer before Thanksgiving, so this mama bear can saunter through the holiday season without being swept up in the bustle. Even so, 2015 seems to be in a sprint toward the finish.

Last night, the cracking of tree limbs and wind gusts woke me from sleep. I sat up in bed and watched the naked trees dance in the moonlight.

Our gratitude cards to slip into the palms of all those who help make our life a life...

The Beach Exhibit

From their Branches: Patrick Dougherty Installation 2015

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,”
they say, “and you, too, have come
into the world to do this, to go easy,
to be filled with light, and to shine.”  

- Mary Oliver























It was about 30 yrs ago when I happened upon the work of sculptor Patrick Dougherty and was instantly enthralled.  As a young girl who liked to play in the woods, climb trees, and build things like forts and tree houses - Patrick's work touched that part of me and transported me to a time when anything I could imagine was real.  It was my wish that one day I would help him build an installation.

In February I heard that Mr. Doughtery was coming to Reston to create an installation and I could hardly believe it.  I immediately contacted GRACE and volunteered to be on his team.   Long story short, for the last three weeks I've been living my dream atop a scaffolding bending sticks.  It has been an extraordinary experience for which I am very VERY grateful.

I would like to invite all of you to join us at the celebration in Reston Town Square Park on Saturday April 25th!!! 

Family Activities 2pm- 5pm

Opening Reception 5pm - 7pm

Below are some photos of the creation in process.  I hope you enjoy them.  May these words and images inspire you.