A Dream and a Hail Storm

Maybe it was the hail storm (crazy hail storm! Crazy loud for like an hour and then nothing - quarter-sized hail pelting the roof like bullets) or being startled awake at 5pm by my insane cat who will scream - literally scream, not meow or hiss but SCREAM like a freaking alien (I guess?) - whenever she is scared ...

... But last night had some crazy dreams. This is probably a really uninteresting post to anyone but me but I like writing down my dreams - I think it's important for ... something.

Started at the office. I left my desk for the evening and saw C walking – almost hopping, really – down the hall to L’s office; she was wearing skinny cargo jeans and tall black boots. As I passed through the kitchen I found L and P sitting at one of the tables – I think L was wearing bright pink – both facing each other but also looking toward the wall like it was a secretive conversation. Neither of them said anything or looked up when I passed.

I went through to the elevators and found at least 20 people all standing in the elevator bank talking to each other – none of whom I recognized - it felt really cramped. Some were friendly, others were just blurred faces, forms; there was an older couple and another female, young-ish who I ended up riding home (or somewhere) with in their champagne SUV – a Tahoe I think. We were on the road and everything around us was black – not a dark black because I could still see around me and see the road, like everything had been painted black and was still illuminated. Even the grass was black and I could make out all the blades and the dirt. In the middle distance was a perpendicular road with tiny, whizzing cars passing, recognizable only by small white lights flying past from left to right. Beyond that was blurry moving fields and a black setting sun – I couldn’t make out much but I know it was there, moving and hopping unclearly in my vision.

We were talking and having a nice enough time together despite the feeling I got of being completely alone and left alone and alienated, lurid even though I'm not sure why; I remember the driver telling his wife that she needed to lose more weight and she agreed, tilting her head to the side and looking at us in the backseat as she nodded. I thought I was in the seat behind her for a while but then I was in the other seat later on. I was leaning forward on the driver’s seat talking and then noticed what looked like a small brownish frog on the hood of the car in front of the passenger’s seat. The hood was damp and glistening under its toes.

I realized we weren’t even on a road anymore, just a huge field of damp dirt and short-cropped grass with the appearance of a massive spotlight shining on us from the back-right of my vision – like it was coming from inside my own head; there was mist in the air, too that looked like glitter. We were going down a hill and everything was wet outside. There were at least a dozen frogs on the car and they would sometimes hop off toward the back of the car and to the sides. We were all curious but didn’t do or say anything about it. We were going fast and somehow a drop off surprised the driver and we were suddenly on a steep, slick incline of grass that fell off quickly from the hill and felt like we were turning back in on ourselves and the hill, defying gravity for a split second. The car lurched over the side and drove down for a few seconds – we were driving to the right, not straight down for some reason – and then we turned backwards and the car turned upside down.

I was holding onto the hand grab over my window and remember thinking it might be best to stay as seated as possible instead of flying limply around the car but that proved difficult and I found myself floating almost weightless through the middle of the car and looking out all the windows at the ever-tilting scenery. I can’t remember if we were screaming or just watching in awed silence as we turned around and over the hill and slid down to the bottom, slow and fast at the same time.

Then I woke up.

Photos of Inspiration ~ [04.12.11]

My Tuesday morning is going really well. Yesterday was great, too - and a Monday! Of course as soon as I say that something will go terribly wrong and then the rest of the week will suck. But I'm going to try NOT to let that happen; I think it's in our power to control what we feel and do. We obviously can't change people; people are the 'wild card' and are never what we want or hope or expect them to be, even people we've known for a hundred years and think we can rely on. So just control yourself and you can at least stay calm and carry on in the face of distress.

This morning, I have a few photos of inspiration, as I call them; photos (feelings, energies really) that inform my mood and my day, that I carry in the back of my mind ... an escape of sorts. Today's photos are about tea. Sort of. They are just downright lovely is what, and I wanted to share them.

What inspires me today is fresh cool air and warm sun on my shoulders; breezes on a sun-drenched day; the yellow of an old photograph; crisp grass whisping in the air; the feel of slick bark under my palm.

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Another week has passed ...

The weeks fly by faster this time of year. Not sure if it's the fact we are pulled in three times as many directions with the holidays and familial requirements; obscene amounts of gifting and baking and traveling; getting sick; going to parties; and generally trying to stay sane. Whatever combination of elements, the Fall and Winter months feel harried and short and they pass by with so much 'ado' over what turns out to be nothing and so quickly forgotten.

That new DVD player for $3 at Wal-Mart (starting at 5am, limited quantities of course; and mind you don't trample someone to death on the way to aisle 12!) quickly loses its shine and those new toys find a place in the pile of rarely touched items that accrue and accrue in playrooms and bedrooms, pushed aside for the newer model.

Just reminds me how important it is to not get caught up in the hubbub and the madness. Enjoy the wonderful foods and the good times with the people you care about; the bright Christmas tree and 'It's a Wonderful Life' and hot cocoa, a cat curled up in a frosty window. Enjoy them just as you would the first warm day of Spring and the first nip in the air that tells you Fall is on the way; just as you would any small but hugely significant thing that passes by quickly but with potentially great effect. Enjoy them, but don't get caught up in the insignificant parts.

Life is the small things. People say 'don't sweat the small stuff' but life is just that: a sequence of small things that make up who we are as individuals. So ... sweat the small stuff. Make the most of it. Savor the small things and the short moments and the turns of countenance; a kiss or a smile, a laugh with a friend, finding common ground, a piece of chocolate, or spending the evening with your favorite person.

I realize more the older I get that there are too many lovely things that pass us by if we are fixated on the negative things or the toxic people or the 'what if's'. Cross the bridge when you come to it and make the best of it. Try to remember what you did right and change what you think you can to make it better the next time around.

I see, too, that research and knowledge and observation are some of the more fulfilling practices in life. Read and learn - there is always something new to discover. I can feel myself changing and improving with all the articles I read and words I learn and new things I discover that I didn't even know existed before. How could anyone ever be bored?

Just a few of the small things from my week ... 

My curious cat, Smiley. I love the look in his apple green eyes.

A mystery herb that decided to sprout again after weeks of ... nothing. I brought it inside to the dining room window since it's getting a little too cold outside for herbs now.

Old-fashioned Scrabble in a pretty wooden box. Kevin and I sometimes play games together in the evenings.

Inspired by my friend, I have a 'thing' for collecting pretty napkins. They are so inexpensive but make a simple lunch or tea and cookies that much more pleasant ...

Breaking off a little piece of hazelnut milk chocolate.

A pot of rice pilaf simmering on the stove.

My warm, cozy house on a cool Fall night, my three favorite people (Kevin and the cats ;), a nice dinner and Friday night...

Happy weekend. =)

The one that got away

I've been thinking this morning about the ocean. I have always loved the ocean (any ocean really). But it's been a conflicted affection, since I also seem to have an innate fear of it. For my friends, vacation consisted of hiking and camping trips and weeks spent in Europe visiting family and sight-seeing, which seemed entirely foreign and exotic to my family of beach bums. For as long as I can remember, Summer vacation consisted of a lengthy migration to the coast - Florida, Alabama, even Hawaii once - and spending as many hours of the day for at least a week right on the water. I remember vcation in California, too, with my aunt, uncle and cousins; Disneyland and bonfires in the sand on chilly nights. I can see us from a distance as though I was a stranger passing by the tableau. I remember coming home - humid and familiar, unexciting - with a deep tan and sand in my shoes, and wishing for more dinners at waterfront restaurants with the glow of the lights on the wet sand. I remember wishing I was alone, that no family or familiar face was there to draw me in and distract me from ... myself. There is something wonderful and spiritually sparkling about being alone with the ocean.

There is something magical about the ocean, primordial maybe. Something that draws me to it, but warns me not to get too comfortable. I love the crystal blue of the water, tainted only by the shimmering gold sand caught up in the swirling, foamy waves. The salty air and burnishing sun. And the tiny sand crabs that wiggle between my fingers. I love standing in the sand, just at the edge of the water, and seeing how long it takes for the waves to bury my feet in the drippy, saturated sand.

At the same time, I have an in-born aversion to water that's too deep for me to see through (for this perhaps-not-entirely-justified reason, I will never enjoy rivers or lakes). The farther I go out, the blacker the water gets; I can't quite handle that, as though some mysterious predator waits for me just beyond the ledge of sand that takes you from happy Summer vacation to Jaws. Once, while innocently belly boarding near the shore, I saw one of these just below my feet:

One year in Florida, my parents rented a red plastic kayak and my eager brother decided to row the two of us out as far as possible, while commentating our trip with "Wow!" and "This is awesome!" and "Isn't this amazing, Nat?" ("Um, no as a matter of fact") while I'm practicing relaxing breathing techniques in an attempt at warding off a panic attack. I kept asking for him to stop rowing (my paddle dipped in and held still in an effort to slow us down was a pointless exersion). We kept getting farther and farther out; blacker and blacker water. Eventually, I saw several even blacker forms under the opaque water, with wet black fins cutting the surface and gliding past, literally a couple of feet from our small plastic craft. NOTE: Kayaks are likely one of the least reassuring watercrafts; thin, easy-to-capsize plastic boats don't do much to allay my fears as we cut through solid black water.

The fins, I realized, belonged to a couple of porpoises ...

Back at last on comforting sand, I vowed never to get in a kayak again.



Despite some low points in our relationship, I still can't get enough of the ocean. I keep going back, and every time I do, there is something enchanting about it; it never gets old, it never disappoints. The only disappointment is having to eventually leave. I saw a photo recently of someone camping on the beach: a tent piched against the dunes, and the waves mere yards away. How wonderful. Can you imagine the dreams you'd have while sleeping to that soundtrack?




Gulls and surfers on Manhattan Beach - Cali., 7/2010





How many waves til they're buried? - Manhattan Beach - Cali., 7/2010





Santa Monica Pier - Cali., 7/2010



Sometimes, my mind reminds me of the misty-filtered sunshine, the fog on my glasses and salty-sticky skin. And the feeling that the ocean is the one that got away.



Driving the PCH - Cali., 7/2010



A shot in the arm: boosting my photography collection

I decided to update my art folder on Facebook today and found a few photos I had forgotten about. Some are perfect straight from the camera, but I think a little Photo-shopping never hurt. Here are a few photos of mine -- some old and some newly taken -- that I edited this morning over hash browns and coffee.

A new day for Grandma's glass

Yawn...

You want fries with that?

Palm Sunday

I wonder what's up there?

Many years ago, I took this photo. It probably shouldn't have happened; the room was very dark, darker than the photo will let on. The exposure was very long -- I can't remember how long -- for a hand held shot, but it came out clear. A little pushing and pulling in the darkroom ... 

Fort Smith Wagons

Contendedness ... and Morning Glories again.

This morning (well, actually it was noon) I sat in my backyard eating an atrociously late breakfast and enjoying the mild air and the birds and bright green of everything. Sometimes I think I might enjoy sleeping outside and waking up to that - there's something primordially therapeutic about Nature.

Last night I fell asleep on the couch and was awakened by a hug; Kevin had seen me asleep and came over to wake me so I could go to bed. Instead of saying "Natalie, it's time to go to bed" or shaking me or something, he instead sat by me on the couch and hugged me. I woke up with a flood or warmth all through my body. That's what Nature is like.

It got me thinking about being comfortable. And thinking about my house. I realized Kevin and I have lived in our house less than 5 months. We are by no means 'moved in' or 'settled', but that first unfamiliar rush and feeling of being in a new place and new walls and colors and the light coming in at different angles through all the windows...It's already slipping away. It doesn't take long, I thought, to lose that first love, that buzz of excitement over something new and ... exciting. It doesn't mean it is not exciting anymore: when I think about it, I'm still very excited and very very pleased to be in this home with my husband. But it doesn't feel quite so exhilarating anymore. 

Got me wondering, too, how people can hop from relationship to relationship probably just looking for that feeling of newness again - something different - just to know it will be gone soon and they'll be off to the next better thing. Is it really better to feel that heady buzz or to simply be happy where you are and with whom you are? What's better? Truly, we can never be fully happy or constantly happy.

I'm not so sure that buzz is as good or as exciting and thrilling as I thought when I was younger. As a kid, you let movies and other people and your unstoppable imagination tell you what life is all about and it's thrilling - only for the fact you haven't actually experienced it yet. So ... maybe it's not that these new experiences are exciting, it's simply that they have been previously un-experienced and are therefore new and maybe just a little overwhelming.

I am happy in my house. It's not glamorous or even as nice as my friend's houses or that person's house across town. But it's my house that I share it with my family and I love it. It's beautiful to me. And even after 5 months - though it's not quite so exciting waking up and thinking every morning 'Wow, this is my house!' - it still is and I still love being here.

I've been married for nearly 6 years and I wouldn't think of dropping my relationship just because that first rush and blush and flurry are long gone. I adore my spouse and there is nothing and no one who can replace him - not even that intoxication of new attraction. I don't comprehend people who don't allow themselves to be content with the things they have (yes, allow; I believe it's within ourselves, not the circumstances around us, to be content). Of course, I want new and different things, too but ... isn't there a line to be drawn? Can't you want new things, like a throw pillow or Christmas ornament or bed sheets, without also feeling like you have to completely rework your life? Don't question those good and wonderful things - those big things that really matter.

All that to say, I'm thinking about contentedness and constancy and realizing how rare they both are. I'm realizing how vital it is to appreciate the small things - something I have observed for many many years in a select few people and I appreciate them so much for that example - and not sweat so much over your house or your husband or wife who isn't perfect. Love them. Love life. Be content. Everything will eventually let you down, at least a little, but that doesn't mean you can throw it away.

Life is but a dream

Tonight in my kitchen ...

...I have a niece helping me make brownies before we watch a movie. Preferably 'My Neighbor Totoro' but 'Robots' will do, too since she is betting I'll "laugh my head off" or else she will be eating her shirt - yes, we made a bet.

...We went on an errand and I found a few new envelopes of herbs for my backyard garden. My Parsley and Coriander died when we were traveling this summer so I am trying out some new ones. I planted Thyme, Rosemary and Dill in little pots (these are all $5 at WalMart right now and too cute) as soon as we got home and will keep an eye on them on my kitchen counter everyday.

...Smiley is begging to go outside. I refuse to let him though since he's twice gotten himself lost and I'm just not OK with that. He is pretty sure he's a lion and the backyard is the African wilds. Squirrels and possums are his Gazelles. He sometimes tries to soften my resolve by swirling around on the floor and looking cute and fluffy - but it doesn't work this time.

...As I sit here Kevin and Karina are talking in the living room and playing with Kevin's devil sticks. The brownies are starting to smell lush and Karina has come in a couple times to take a swipe of batter from the bowl with one finger.

And...that's all. Just a little segment of my evening. Happy weekend. =)