Photo365 Winter Spring 2016 / My Eyes Have Died

My phone died in February. It took with it a great many photos that helped me remember how I appreciated each day.

There were photos of my month-long master bedroom & bathroom project. I took my boring 90s bedroom that did not reflect me in the slightest and transformed into what Larry says, "looks like an artist lives here." Gone are the light mint green walls and honey oak furniture and flow-blocking arrangement. It's a brand new bedroom, and all it took was two cans of paint, one can of Rustoleum, a few items bought on clearance with a gift card from Pier 1 from 2007, and some rearranging of items I already had, which under the new configuration and design came together as if they were purchased just for that. The whole project cost less than $70. I simply painted my ugly 1993 furniture, and now it looks antique French country. I moved my bed into the bay window nook, and my room feels 50% bigger. I "Kon Mari'd" my drawers. I found knick knacks and old gifts from my mom, my grandma, my sister, sister in-law, my aunt, and my cousin, and am now surrounded by love from the important women in my life.

There were pictures of my Valentine's dinner table, resplendent with wine, bread, cheese, flowers, candles, tomato bisque, and stuffed manicotti. There were pictures of the flowers Larry sent me when I got a promotion. And pictures of the beautiful Valentine's bouquet he brought me. Pictures of our tickets to "Once: The Musical" along with the playbill and various other gifts and cards we exchanged and made.

There were photos of all my cooking experiments, like my Cuban sandwiches and coco bananas. Photos of bare trees and the tiny bit of snow we got this winter. Photos of parties we attended and some of a dinner party we hosted.

There were photos of marquees and other playbills, such as "The Mystery of Irma Vep," "To Kill a Mockingbird," and "Fences," all seen at the IRT.

Photos that would mean absolutely nothing to anyone reading this!

So Winter never really quite arrived this year, and I didn't miss it. I stayed busy creating and decluttering and working out and improving my diet.

I've lost 6% of body weight, and have only about 5 more pounds to go!

I started running again and have found that 3 miles seems to be the magic number for not causing knee pain--the reason I had to quit running in the past. I try to get in at least 60 mins of exercise per day.

I've given up my mostly vegetarian diet and now eat lean meats daily, and that seemed to be the trigger that let me build more muscle and shed some fat. I am conflicted with this as I had hoped to be completely vegetarian, but the truth is I feel a little better now that I'm eating meat.

I've given up candy and ice cream and chips. Sometimes I swear and scowl at my super healthy salad I eat for lunch every day; sometimes even cuss it out as I'm preparing it. But I thank it later! I walk right by endless candy bowls and donuts and goodies at work.

Why is it all worth mentioning? I'm not sure it is. Don't most people get through life without tracking and photographing their mundane daily existence? I guess the point is that I don't want to settle for mundane, even though my life is by most counts extremely ordinary. (I know, oxymoron.) Maybe my life is an oxymoron.

I think it comes across as mundane to simply list activities. This means that I am in some way embracing being mundane by not taking the time to write out more meaningful thoughts.

Here's the truth:

I'm not sure I've had many lately.

I've been productive, and that's been great, because I look around my house (my castle, where my truest self resides, rests, dreams), and I see a more accurate reflection of myself. It's unique. It flows. It's colorful. Only my house looks like this, and I have the pleasure of knowing that I made the most of what I have and took the time and energy to make it my special place.

I find myself more drawn to colors and pictures and photos and design than words lately.

I've had trouble sticking with a nightly reading schedule, even though I like the book--"All the Light We Cannot See," a gift from Larry. However, I read dozens of magazines and articles and travel journals.

I still feel creative, but the creativity is more constructive these days, with more immediate results that I feel daily and that are basically for my eyes only.

Last week I was listening to a TED talk called The Psychology of Evil by Phillip Zombardo   and I became interested in The Stanford Prison Experiment and the "banality of evil," which led me to Watergate, which led me to John Lennon, which led me to Elton John (oh the winding path of hyperlinks!), and I learned that his seminal song "Daniel" has a missing verse that supposedly explains who Daniel is why he is leaving for Spain. (The verse is missing forever. As was their custom, Bernie would write lyrics, often scrawled on a piece of scrap paper, and Elton would take them to his piano and start composing. When Elton (Reginald, real name) read the last verse, he said to his band mates, "Bernie must be on LSD again. This last verse makes no sense." Legend has it that he simply tore off that last verse and threw it away.

One lyric that remained:
Your eyes have died
But you see more than I

Daniel was blinded in Vietnam. The reason he left for Spain was because after going back home to his Texas farm, no one would let him forget he was a hero, and he didn't want that identity.

(The real reason he went to Spain, as explained by Bernie is that, "It's a stupid rhyme that I didn't think would sound good at the time, but I left it. I wanted him on a plane, and "Spain" rhymed with plane.)

I read the lyrics again, and wondered if my eyes have died. It's been a long time since I've "seen" as in envisioned a play and characters and conflict and hope and a sliver of light that they could experience at least clarity if not resolution.

What am I "seeing" these days, if my eyes have indeed died.

But I don't think they died. I think they are adjusting to a new light.

And I do see things. And I think I see them beautifully.

But maybe I could will my eyes to focus a little faster, a little easier in this new light. Maybe I could coax them, reassure them. My life has so much more light in it now. In a way, it's so full of light and simplicity that it doesn't really seem to lend itself to poetic verse or metaphor.

Teach me to see in this new light, Daniel.

Rescued this cute little kitty!

Full moon February

Some "found" Valentine's decorations at Kohl's

Dinner for Ralf & Jim

A good book

My niece, Zavi

My favorite campaign sign

Valentine's art decorations

Presents, flowers, playbill from "Once: The Musical"

A savory watermelon salad with avocado, scallions, arugula, and ginger chicken

Fresh pan grilled blue gill and savor watermelon salad

Larry with MaryAnn at IndyFringe for a comedy night with Stewart Huff and Paul Strickland

Patty Griffin with Anias Mitchell and Sara Watkins at The Palladium

Larry sent me flowers when I got a promotion

My mom's cat, Squeaky, reads the paper with my dad

Nieces and nephews "trading up" Easter candy

Chicken breast stuffed with cranberry and feta and spices on a bed of couscous with a side of asparagus

Cucumbers with homemade hummus and naan

One evening, it finally quit raining, and I took a nice walk to enjoy the new blossoms

I think this one is extra special. Great lines.

Low hanging cloud with sun makes dramatic spring picture!

My favorite rear window sticker!

There is some kind of irony in finding the seminal book "Their Eyes Were Watching God" carelessly dropped and left in a parking lot

Red buds mark my favorite time of year

Out walking one night was was treated to all five colors of the rainbow. First time I've ever seen all colors

My crab apple tree

Foxy Phlox

McCormick's Creek 

My cherry tree

Birthday Wishes

Today is my birthday, and I want to wish myself a happy one! I woke up 48 years old today! But look, I'm excited about my birthday, just like a 9 year-old. I stepped out in the driveway before getting into my car for the drive into work. It had stormed all night, so I was expecting torrential rain. I looked up at the black and grey streaked heavy sky and saw a patch of blue and pink, the sun chasing away the angry clouds! Stepping out of my car in the parking lot, the air smelled scrubbed clean, the the perfumed petals of blossoms sweetened the air. I paused to consider all the things in life that offer up beauty and respite. I thought of the gift of living life and growing older and wiser. I thought of my fortunes--the love and birthday wishes from a caring, passionate, and energetic partner; my mom and dad; Earl &Lori; my friends, Amanda, Dave, and Andre. A job enables me to be independent and solvent with some to spare and some to share. A strong physical and mental constitution. My sweet kitty. Upcoming adventures. Books to read. Nieces to dote on. A garden to tend.  Meals to share with friends. Sunrises and sunsets. A house to call home.

I love my simple life.
I simply have everything.

Take a Little Time

It's a busy week--at work, running my artist hostel, hosting a going-away dinner party for a friend, and getting things organized to spend a long weekend at Larry's to celebrate my birthday. If thriving = high productivity, then you could say that I thrive in busy times. But what else can thrive mean--it means growing strong, propagating, shining, blooming. Checking items off my list gives me a certain peace of mind, but actually doing the work to get them checked off usually puts me in a Fast Forward frame of mind--do, do, do, go, go, go! Don't stop, don't pause, don't think, don't stop working til every item is checked, and the faster you do it the better! 

Is fast really better? Fast has its time and place.

Spring is not one of those times.

Spring is my favorite time of the year. Around mid-April, the trees start blossoming, and they grace us only briefly. With high winds and driving rains prominent in Spring, their life span is cut even shorter. I know this much about myself: I must breathe in every second possible of this beautiful yet fleeting season. Like the tiny leaves and fragrant blossoms, I feel full of hope and bliss every spring. I must not let productivity deride my most basic instinct to slow down and breathe in.

Last night I was harried and annoyed after a hurry-up-and-wait day at work, and I had many items on my To Do list for the dinner party the following night. I nearly gave in to productivity, but I took a minute, took inventory, and realized, after next week, the blossoms will be gone. You'll have to wait a whole year to see them again.

I threw on shorts and grabbed my camera and dashed off to Eagle Creek and sunk into the forest. I stood on the tall banks of the reservoir and felt the sunlight bounce off the water and warm my bones while the cool wind refreshed my skin. I listened to migratory water birds and local forest birds and tiny tree frogs and cacophonous chorus frogs welcome spring with their songs and chirps. I breathed in trillium blossoms and fuchsia red buds and white dogwood. I walked around a pond, watching the tadpoles dart around. I thought of the long summer days I spent in the park with Primo, and 14 years ago suddenly seemed the lifetime ago that it actually was.

It was getting late, and I still had so much to do at home. I contemplated leaving but got a better idea. I decided to do my run there! I stashed my camera, and dashed off onto the mostly deserted trails. No humans, no biting bugs. The soft terra firma cushioned the blow of each step, and the myriad species of trees and plants, their young leaves tender and brave capturing my imagination. 

I was getting close to hitting my 3 mile goal and the sun was sinking low. I needed to go. But as I rounded a bend, something caught my eye just a foot away--a giant pileated woodpecker working his way around a tree. He was as big as pheasant, and my presence seemed to annoy him, still he let me stop in my tracks and take in his bright red cockscomb and striking black and white photos. I laughed, thinking of how much I loved hearing them on camping trips, and how Larry cursed them for waking him at the crack of dawn. He flew off, and so did I--

--for about five steps, when I came nearly face to face with a young beautiful deer. We stopped in our tracks and stared at each other. Then I noticed another, and another, and another--7 altogether, watching me as intently I watched them. They raised the white flag of their tails and galloped off--and so did I.

I continued my run, then did a cool down by bidding adieu to the sun setting over the reservoir. I drove home happy and refreshed.

I got home and decided to start the lasagna for the dinner party when I realized I had forgotten a key ingredient at the store--ricotta cheese. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to go to yet another store, then decided to make due. I hunted through my cupboards and came up with an alternate menu. Impromptu and resourceful.

Impromptu. Make due. And for the last time--make time for yourself!

Mr. Woodpecker


Beautiful sprays of redbuds


Oak-tree flowers


Paw-Paw in bloom


Fragrant Trout Lilly


Virginia Bluebells