quote day

"As for me, I know of nothing else but miracles." 

                                                   -Walt Whitman

Happy Saturday. I love this quote. It is the attitude I strive for. Some days I forget, but I try to remember  and hold to these words of  Mister Walt. 

learning to chill

The problem with taking hundreds of pictures every week is that, eventually, your computer gets full. I hate that, as I am traditionally not good with technology nor disruption to my comfortably established routines. I like to know what to expect at all times, though life does not always cooperate.

So yesterday, my photoshop program started going haywire, dropping functions and freezing. Normally this would send me into a stomach-churning panic. But here's the thing. I decided not to panic. This is related to something I've been pondering lately after hanging out with my daughter Lauren for a week.

She is headed off to Brazil for the summer to investigate starting a company there. She does not know if it will succeed. She is not exactly sure what she will find, despite the carefully laid business plan she and her partners have drafted, but she is learning Portuguese and going down there to check it out. The reason she is doing this is, she says, is how else will she learn, how else will she be able to test things out and grow without challenging herself. Dang, that girl knows a lot more than I do. So I decided that I need to be cool with challenges, because they are kind of exciting opportunities, if you think about them correctly. This is a major shift for me. I guess no matter how old you get, the important thing is to stay open and keep learning.

So, I deleted a bunch of photos and figured out how to get my watermark back. Next I need to devise  a solid storage system, with proper back-up, for my bursting portfolio and to learn even more about photoshop. Working on that now. You can probably hear the rusty gears in my brain creaking. Keep learning and chilling and figuring things out as you go through calm waters or rough. And Enjoy.

the shady rest

Ever since my two-year calmness project (of which I'm now on year three, but who's counting? Oh, and I added focus this year, as a goal, so I'm actually multitasking, which, now that I think about it, was probably not such a great idea, as the two do not exactly go hand in hand) and my investigations into mindful living, yoga, herbal tea, prayer, meditation, and the like, I find myself constantly scanning for idyllic nooks and shady perches to savor and to collect via photograph. 

I love this picture. It feels so soothing and, somehow, hopeful. Life often gets crazy-hectic. It is nice to sit on a log and look out over the California mountains. Try it. In your mind, sit on this log. Breathe in and out to a count of ten. Keep breathing deeply and slowly. Feel the gentle breeze on your cheeks and hands. Smell the lavender growing right there. Bask in this happy spot. All the world is in front of you, and there is no telling what joys tomorrow may bring.

popular feet

So, these are my feet. Not the prettiest dogs in the world, but they do their job. These feet tell my story. Sometimes I am awkward in my skin like the toes above. It's weird how slippery my sense of self can be, especially when I am travelling, constantly visiting accomplished people, with no time alone and no time to write for days on end. I want to be that person who is confident and steady no matter what, but I can be so easily intimidated. Aargh - I hate that. All I want is to be plucky in every situation and to have a smooth complexion until the day I die. Is that too much to ask? I thought not.

Anyhow, I got back home around midnight last night. No place like it. No bed as comfy as my own. I had to spend most of today neurotically organizing closets, doing laundry and unclutterring, which is what I do to re-nest myself after being gone for ten days. Who knows why? It's my thing. Also hung out with Quiet Guy all day, so now I am back to my old self. If only I could be back to my old self less five pounds, it would be even better. Oh well. I guess that would entail eating less ice cream and more lettuce and carrots. Highly unlikely. My feet below are my target look: cool, artsy, colorful & spunky. If these feet were in high school, they would be the popular feet.

Mission Santa Barbara

Mission Santa Barbara is a Spanish mission founded in 1786 by Franciscan Monks. They have an Italian street painting festival called i madonnari every Memorial day weekend. Some of the art was still there when we went the other day, though it is a bit tire marked, which adds interest. Here are a few of the creations on the parking lot. 

I love this concept of free art of the moment made by the regular people, to eventually wash away with the rains after it's vibrant life is over. How like these old bodies of ours. We need to spread our own unique form of art, whatever it may be, while we can.

This is Saint Barbara, featured in the lovely chapel at the mission. 

My sweet California wanderings are about over - headed home tonight, no place like it. 

the one where I visit paraside

I'm still here in Santa Barbara visiting my sister-in-law & her husband, who retired here recently. My mother-in-law and daughter Lauren, the recent graduate, are also here. Good times. This house is frighteningly amazing. I mean it. Some people are just overachievers. All I'm sayin'.

Is that ridiculously gorgeous or what? Yesterday, I was lounging in the infinity pool pondering how lucky I am to even get to be a visitor at this mecca. QG and I were thinking we might buy a travel trailer to visit the national parks when we retire. Different strokes, right? Oh, and they even have an avocado grove and small vineyard. For some reason, their avocados are twice as creamy as the ones you buy in the store. Amazing.

Since I arrived in Santa Barbara, I've been having perpetually freaking out over the jacaranda trees. They are the most gracefully striking trees I have ever seen. They positively glow purple. When I die, please bury me beneath a jacaranda tree.

Yesterday, we went to see the Santa Barbara Mission. Very interesting. I'll show you pictures tomorrow. I am rushing out to a hot yoga class now with my daughter. We went to one the other day for an hour and it nearly killed me. This class is going to be an hour and a half. Oy. I don't want to miss it, though as she is leaving today and this is our last gasp of precious time together (along with twenty other incredibly sweaty people, granted, but I'll take what I can get) till who knows when. Pray I make it back alive.

packing and yoga

Yesterday, except for a yoga class in the morning, we spent the whole day packing up Lauren's room. This was fun for me, as I am freakishly addicted to cleaning out closets. It was like a walk through old times sorting out Lauren's clothes. So many memories. I remember the Gap shorts she bought in tenth grade with me along to pay for them. Then there were the various dresses we bought together for occasions like her college graduation. And the JCrew hipslung jeans bought on Christmas break of her freshman year. What is it about mothers and daughters and the bonding ritual of clothes shopping? Who else do you go into the dressing room with to be the official hanger-upper? 

The saddest part is that I realize this will probably be the last time I ever help her sort through her entire wardrobe to analyze every item, deciding what to keep, and what to leave behind. It seems, as we go through life, this is a process we must repeat again and again. Sometimes with our clothes and kitchenware, sometimes with our thoughts and beliefs. And sometimes with a buddy. Or a mom who agrees to sew up all the torn seams. Some things never change.

Oh, and the day before yesterday, we had adventures in San Francisco. Went to a yoga class in the Mission District. I was at least twenty years older than every other person there. If the telltale grey hairs didn't give me away, the loudly creaking joints most definitely did. Oh well. The stacks of rolled up yoga mats were so lovely and colorful. Art is everywhere, it seems.

that's my girl

I made it to California, though not on my original flight, which was supposed to go to San Francisco. The flight Gods would never let me off that easy. For the third trip in a row now, my first flight got aborted. This episode was the most exciting, though. Just as we were careening down the runway at top speed, about to lift off, the plane lurched to a hurkey-jerky stop. I knew it was too good to be true when we seemed to be taking off on schedule. That doesn't happen in my world. Apparently, our plane's speedometer was broken and the darn pilot refused to drive it in that condition. While waiting for an alleged replacement plane to materialize, I managed to get myself onto a separate flight to San Jose a couple of hours later. I finally know the way. 

I love California. Also, I love hanging out with my daughter, Lauren and her friends. We ate Burmese food the first night (a first for me): fantastic, especially the tea leaf salad. Shopped a little, played Boggle, then it was midnight. 

Yesterday featured a hike, a yard sale, a champagne party, and Lauren's graduation from Stanford GSB. She got her MBA. She is so my idol. She is so amazing. I'll admit, I may be slightly biased, but, still, the gal is the definition of amazing We then went into San Fransisco for a fancy dinner at Fleur De Lis. Amazing food, amazing cocktails, fun conversation.

My favorite part of the lengthy graduation was people watching. Fascinating outfits, and lots of uber-enthusiastic folks straining to get photos of their graduates. Joe Biden was there to see his niece graduate, and (sorry for the obnoxious name-dropping... hey, it's not everyday you get within a couple yards of the VP, so, naturally, I had to dish) I really enjoyed watching all the secret service dudes lurk about in their dark shades, crew cuts, and blue jackets. Those are some extremely alert and jittery folks. 

natural beauty appreciation day

Yay! 943 pages later, I am finito with my editing job. So now I can focus on photos again for a while, pardon the pun. I really missed Agnes my camera these past few weeks. The old girl is excited because I am taking her on a trip tomorrow, so stay tuned for some schweet California scenes. 

But for today, enjoy these beauties. I found all of this color right next door, in my neighbor Mumsie's yard. Luckily, she doesn't seem to mind me skulking about her yard, on a regular basis, to check out the latest blooms. 

It's weird how art can enter into a person. I am not just talking about art hanging on a wall, but also stuff like clouds, sky, flowers, rocks, trees, and rain: everyday art that anybody can see. Flowers and blue skies fill my soul in a way that makes it feel as if it is expanding to make more and more room for more and more wonder to enter in. 

If you just sit and stare at a flower for a long time, it can sort of shift something on the inside to make you a notch happier or more robust about the soul. It is hard to explain. The internal workings of art are mysterious and sacred in some way. But the greatest thing about natural beauty is that we don't need to buy anything or do anything special to experience it. We only need go outside and look, then quietly rest for a while to appreciate our find. Each day will usher in new treasures.

cabbage raisin stir fry recipe

Hey, over the weekend, I made a quick and tasty vegetable dish, so I thought I'd share the recipe. My neighbor gave me a Texas-grown cabbage and onion from her neighbor Dewey at their ranch house in LaRue Texas. Dewey has a huge garden and it was exciting to be able to share in his bounty. So, I scanned my cabinets and came up with this combo. This dish is even better heated up or eaten cold the next day.

Cabbage raisin stir fry

1/2 large cabbage, cored and roughly chopped
1 cup raisins
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar (organic if possible)
1/3 cup sugar
2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon ground celery seed
1 small onion, chopped
1 red pepper, chopped
1 apple, cored and chopped
salt and pepper to taste

Take a large frying pan. Heat it to medium, coat lightly with olive oil, then dump in all of the ingredients. Simmer on medium to medium high for 5-10 minutes, while stirring. Turn down to simmer, put a lid on, and cook for another 20 minutes or so, until tender, stirring occassionally.

the tapestry

The cool thing about life is that we can never know everything. Some things are mysterious, like this spider web, filled with tiny water drops, collecting a bunch of leaves. God wove this together, and it's ordinary, yet so beautiful. Even the tiny bits of broken leaves belong, somehow, in the perfect imperfection of this art.

I am like one of those leaf bits: nothing special, often unconfident and clueless, though I'm working on those. But the finest thing I'm learning is that none of my fears really matter. What matters is being quiet, listening, and then doing. Maybe Quiet Guy has been onto something all these years with the quiet thing. Practicing quietness is amazing. Even for twenty minutes a day.

As I wait with open palms, I seem to know what to do next. The tapestry does not depend on me. I am just a thread, created in the perfect shade I'll need to be once the picture is revealed. Yesterday, a cool tapestry thing happened.

I found out my dad column was accepted. Big YAY! It will be in the Dallas Morning News on June 15th. The coolest part, though, was that I was able to hook up a buddy, who I've never actually met, though we've got close-ish ties through the whole six-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon thing, to get to have her picture in the paper along with my column.

It is an amazing photo, and I think that the picture and the column were meant to be together. The details of how this happened are many and they involved God coordinating and me finally learning to listen. There was a test involved, whereby I had to get God to point my finger to a confirming word in the dictionary once I'd randomly opened it and pointed with my eyes closed. The word was emotional. The photograph is a perfect illustration of the emotions of the father/daughter bond, which, of course, is basically what the column is all about. Since He pointed me to the perfect word, I had to do my part in scrabbling around to try to get the photo into the paper alongside my column. Sorry, God. Next time, I'll try not to give you the dictionary test, but will trust you the first time you ask me to do something.

poem Thursday

Roost

Lord, I’m

your girl,

I sit in

your glow,

whisper all

I need to

know. Sidle

your words

straight under

my skin, let

your serenity

enter in. As

I inspire, fill

me with

might.

Wander

me into

your light.

     6/2013KLaustsen

a keen appreciation for bubbles

I missed blogging over the weekend, but I've been holed up in my hidey-hole slugging away at the Biblical commentary I'm editing: 900 pages is a lot to get through in a couple of weeks. I feel as if I'm almost qualified to step into the pulpit and begin my ministerial career. I have learned so much on this job, it almost feels like God is speaking to me through the pages. It's not a preachy kind of book, but one that digs in behind the scenes on several Biblical stories to give the inside scoop on what the context was, or to pick out the smallest, most seemingly picayune details of the translation to get to some scrap of previously overlooked nuance which ends up turning the whole passage from black and white into super-saturated color, meaning-wise. Yes, I tend to think in photographs.

I often need a concrete picture in order to truly understand something. It's weird. But this picture from my Paris trip perfectly illustrates my editing job. Sometimes, God floats something beautiful and gossamer into your life. It's not that you deserve the thing, but God sits back and says: I choose you for this wonderful experience. If you are paying attention at all when that happens, you stop to truly look and you breathe very slowly and concentrate for every second while the magic, with its play of light and pocket of rarefied air, floats past. I feel like God is watching and He truly appreciates our reverence and gratitude for such gifts. Also, I know He has a good memory. And lots more bubbles where this one came from. So, just for the record Lord, I'm a keen appreciator of bubbles, and quite susceptible to awe and bedazzlement over Your fingerprints.

Also, with all of this sitting in front of the computer, I am having to get up and stretch often, which usually involves either a quick spurt of dancing like a maniac around the living room or a stint of gazing into the refrigerator. Hey, the fridge is a nice little walk from my desk, so it's exercise. And I have to keep my strength up with plenty of cheese, ice cream, pretzels, grapes, and bell peppers. I also have to take periodic breaks to look at pictures. Don't ask me why. Photos entertain me. Also, I may be a tad ADD and I don't say that flippantly. Anyhow, this shot of pastries from the shop two doors down from the Paris apartment I stayed in had me mesmerized for quite a while. I want that raspberry tart and I want it now.