You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September, 2008.
This weekend, friends and family gathered to celebrate my baby sister’s 30th birthday. Her husband had deviously planned a surprise party and we all pitched in for a pair of tickets to a New England Patriots game in Boston this November (my sister is a huge Patriots fan).
It was no easy feat getting such coveted tickets and Michelle could have never suspected because she was convinced that it was impossible to find seats for this season. But Michael pulled it off and with all the money collected, we managed to turn it into a romantic weekend getaway. (hmmm. football and romance; two words I would have never thought of stringing together in the same sentence.)
So, imagine her surprise when she opened the big box containing 2 small tickets tucked away in a pink Patriots tuque. Actually, no need to imagine it; it looks something like this…
… followed by tears and laughter and excitement and everything you could hope for when you give the perfect gift.
But all that was Saturday and today is today, which is her official birthday and I didn’t want to let it pass by without wishing her a happy, happy day! Happy birthday, gorgeous! Welcome to the club!
“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.” – Chili Davis
At the bus stop this morning, under a crisp blue sky, my breath announced itself in little cloud puffs on the exhale. And so began the first day of Fall, with me pulling warm accessories from the back of my winter drawers: knitted scuffs, scarves and long checkered socks.
This is my favorite season. This is the season of hot baths sprinkled with lavendar flowers (no more cold showers before bedtime), squash soup, apple crisps and pumpkin pies. There is a smell of an earlier time, like the first day of school, when joy could be found by jumping in a pile of leaves. There is a certain slant of light that brings everything into sharp relief, just to make sure that we pay attention before it all fades away.
The market is a kaleidoscope of reds, purples and oranges. Tomatoes and peppers are sold by the bushel – a concentrated scent of sunshine and earth wafts through the open market.
Photosynthesis is on vacation and trees have begun blushing before their grand entrance. Soon they will take center stage. A few dry leaves travel by wind down the avenue, and with a papery whisper invite other leaves to fall to the ground and join them in the dance. The slow golden waltz of the poplar trees, the carotenoid cha-cha of the maples and oaks venturing into a fiery flamenco, slowly undressing, blowing leafy kisses our way.
Soon, the sunflowers will take their last bow, corn will be left on the stalk for the crows, fields will turn to rust, potlucks will replace bbqs, knitting will substitute for gardening, soups will be the new entrée and wool socks will cover feet that long for one last walk in flip flops (these toes love their freedom but they like being warm and cozy even more).
And even though I love this season above all others, there is a general angst in me and I’m feeling it in many others around me. With the beginning of one season comes the end of another, the shorter days are closing in on us, nature’s little deaths are mourned. We involuntarily rebel because, let’s face it, we didn’t have much of a summer this year and we are resistant to see it go.
But there is still a warm wind that blows through once in a while, a messenger reminding us all to put summer on our calendars for next year.. there will be a repeat performance after the long winter.
And so, I welcome you Madame Autumn and I wish you all a fabulous equinox.
I have a nice little bump sprouting on my head, right where I’ve been banging it against the wall.
You see, I am feeling profound regret for not attending an event, which would have surely rocked the very core of my being and cracked my creative self wide open. For the past couple days, I’ve read the most inspiring stories about Squam, a creative retreat that took place last week, in the mountains of New Hampshire. The visionary who manifested such a magical workshop? None other than the beautiful Elizabeth aka Blue Poppy. The talented artists who taught and attended Squam? Women who have inspired me for years. So tell me, why didn’t I go to a retreat where they were all gathered in the heart of the forest, forming a hub of inspiration and beauty? Why Lord, whyyyyyyyyy?
I’d like to act my age and not use the word jealous or envious… but please allow my adult self to step off stage for a bit while I stand here stomping my feet like a 2 year old, whining about how I wanted to be at Squam too, I wanted to live those magical moments, I wanted to go on a photo walk with Andrea Scher and create a travel journal with Penelope Dullaghan, I wanted to meet those phenomenal women… boooohooooo.
I have been captive to this feeling of regret for the past week but I’ve decided to let it go because it goes against the whole spirit of Squam. The point was to inspire. So until I make it to next year’s workshop (and mark my words, I will), I am upgrading my REgret to a new set of REs. REjoice, REvel, RElish. And in the spirit of all that is lovely and amazing and delicious, here are a few things that I have been drawn to these days.
apples… I’ve been craving them lately; I find myself eating one or two a day. McIntosh always delivers the perfect combination of crunchy and tart with a soupçon of sweet. It’s like taking a bite out of Fall. Whereas the blushing Gala, with its golden skin and pink overlay is a fine work of art, which I enjoy leaving on my desk just for the pleasure of looking at it.
scarves, scarves and more scarves. The queen of all accessories. It’s comfort with a je ne sais quoi. You can never have enough scarves. And that’s all I have to say about that.
autumn lighting… is the best. And with lighting comes flare and I don’t care how many photography books and magazines tell me that I shouldn’t shoot in the light… I refuse to comply. So you can imagine my excitement when I found this group on Flickr, launched by MaineMomma. Can I hear an amen for flare please. It’s liquid light like honey, it’s the colors you see when you close your eyes in a moving car and watch the sun dance against your eyelids, it’s a citrusy breeze, it is the lighting cast by Buddha’s aura, the very definition of zen, the only light that comes close to capturing the lazy summer days of my childhood, the perfect blend of yellow and orange suggesting joy.
listening… to Jango at work. I think you all know my love addiction to music. I am very fortunate to work in an environment, which allows me to plug into music when I see fit; a great way to escape encourage productivity. I recently discovered Jango, a little slice of heaven for the old eustachian tubes, and it rocks my work week.
“Jango is a custom radio that plays what you want. Just type in an artist – and your first station starts playing right away. You’ll get the music you want, along with similar favorites of Jango users who share your taste.”
I usually select my own artists but sometimes I let it play randomly. I enjoy the surprise of jumping from Blackstreet’s No Diggity to Harry Belafonte’s Banana Boat Song to Jacques Brel’s Ne me quite pas to Blondie’s Call Me to Death Cab’s version of All is full of love then taking it up a notch and seriously grooving to Daft Punk’s Technologic in one not-so-seamless swoop. What a musical ride!
since we are on the subject of music… another radio discovery for us Canadians is CBC Radio 2 Drive, hosted by the one, the only, Rich Terfry alias Buck 65. Rich has killer taste in music and he takes us on an auditory journey that is well worth tuning in for: “a mix of current singer-songwriters, roots and urban music for you to discover”. Listen live here.
and while I’m on a roll, I give you one more musical gem, then I promise to stop. Grey Reverend. He opened for The Cinematic Orchestra concert that I recently attended. Instant love. Go listen.
So it seems that, these days, I am inspired by light, music and apples. And coloring my fonts (I had an urge and I went with it).
What inspires you?
