Day 332: Twelve.Three.13

The Mountain finally made an appearance, in time for us to leave.  After all these years, I was in awe once again.

Here’s to another day of creativity…

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Day 329: Eleven.Thirty.13

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 328: Eleven.TwentyNine.13

I have returned to a beauty that cannot be described. It soothes in a way that I had all but forgotten.

Breathing is different here – the pine, the salt, the freshness. I’m trying to soak as much of it into my pores as I possibly can…

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 300: Eleven.One.13

Most people don’t understand why I like gray days. Not all the time, mind you. But the rain, ah the feeling of life kissing your cheeks as you raise your sights to the skies, there’s nothing else quite like it.

I particularly like taking city walking tours on overcast, stormy (not torrential downpour-like, but misty, hazy, slightly-soggy-like) days.

Some of my favorite travel memories (and photos) are the ones taken in the rain. Cuba. Montreal. Stinson Beach.

The light and the water make it possible to see details that might otherwise be missed. Weathered woodwork of an old door, rusting iron gates, even the multidimensional color palette of a city street tapestry.

I didn’t have time for a proper walking tour today, but snapped a few photos on my runnings around:

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 291: Ten.TwentyThree.13

I’ve been reading about spirituality. Christian spirituality, to be exact. It’s slow going. I don’t much believe in all of it. Although I’m certainly more open to reading about it now, at this point in my life than ever before. Mostly, I don’t like that those with-faith feel it’s their place to tell those of us ‘without’ that God loves us. That he’s waiting for us. That just feels so condescending. Or holier-than-thou. And that seems anti the point.

That’s not my point, though.

—

I went to a yoga class today for the first time in a few weeks. I forced myself to go, even though I really would have liked to have talked myself out of it. I knew, deep down, I needed it.

The first thing we did was lie flat, blanket rolled beneath our backs.

eyes Closed. arms Upturned. heart Opened.

I let out my breath, felt where the backs of my palms touched the mat, and almost laugh-cried. You know, that moment when you’re not sure which emotion is taking over, so both experiences meld into one? Our teacher talked of being grounded. Remembering we were connected to the earth. I felt it. And then it was gone. I was back to thinking about my next facebook post about taking a yoga class, what I was going to eat for lunch, what I was going to teach later that day. But for that moment?

I felt something.

—

I drive over the Potomac River on my commute home these days. I happened to turn my head and witnessed the gray-blue of the water contrasting brilliantly with the pink-gold of the sunset. It was better than any picture could have ever captured. Perfectly still. Perfect. That expression – breathtaking – this is what it was made for. Nature often causes destruction – violent storms, blazing fires… even causes complaining a significant amount of the year – too hot this, too cold that. But in that instant?

I felt something.

—

The unsolicited touch of a lover’s fingertips along the length of my spine. A deepest sense of contentment that comes only with this level of closeness to another human being. Mostly, I’ve found relationships are complicated. One part enjoyable and euphoric, two parts painful and emotionally draining. But for that moment?

I felt something.

—

I felt free.

And perhaps, then, I know what it might be like to believe.

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 229: Eight.TwentyTwo.13

Some DC street art and city views.

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 227: Eight.Twenty.13

I watched – and listened – to a ginormous moth trying to get outside of my building. S/he kept running into the same place in the window. Over and over. Over. Hitting full-force. Stopping. Again and again. Again.

Finally, miraculously, s/he moved four inches to the right and escaped through a sliver of light at the bottom of the door frame.

A reminder, I suppose, that repeating the same motions over and over again can’t always create the results that a slight deviation can produce.

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 193: Seven.Seventeen.13

I made a last-second decision to pull over and photograph this community garden space on my way to meeting a friend.

They were kind enough to let me in, even though they weren’t quite open, and showed interest in partnering with ReSourceArts to create our community garden space… once we have a space…

YAY!!!!

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 189: Seven.Thirteen.13

DC architecture – history – and a dog.

Turns out the McMillan Sand Filtration Site was the first water treatment center in Washington, DC. It’s now a registered historic site.

Turns out this dog is just too incredibly cute not to capture in photo.

Here’s to another day of creativity…

Day 167: Six.TwentyOne.13

I went to an awesome coffee shop today. How I have never been before is beyond me.

On my way back to my car, I passed cute houses, friendly faces, and these awesome birdhouses made from found-objects, including a flip flop.

Needless to say, I’ll be returning shortly.

Here’s to another day of creativity…