Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Day 17,100 Gratitude

Today I am so grateful ...

That I am less than a week away from my family's annual pilgrimage to the sea.  This long, hot summer has me feeling crispy and cranky.  There's been a lot on my plate and mind.  Sometimes the only thing left to do is to cast the burden of it all on Mama Ocean.  Sand and salt water are good medicine, as can be rum and pineapple juice (in moderation, of course).  I say yes to all of it and in communion with my family expect to soften and relocate my sorely missed sense of humor. 

That sometimes a doodle will do.  I lamented over my last sketchbook journal which was so heavy on writing and light on anything artful.  My current journal has picked up where that one left off.  Although I would love to sketch something every single day, the circle-turning, hand-wringing and nail-biting that preface the act are a deterrant.  I know it doesn't have to be that way, but for me, at least for the time being, it is what it is.  A doodle for me doesn't carry the same weight.  It's freeing, the way that I hope sketching will one day be for me.  I'm just glad that I have filled a page with something other than words.  It's a good reminder that there are a thousand different ways to express whatever is on my mind.  I'm quite partial to any way that lets me do so with color.

That no matter how much time passes, I always find myself back here.  Whole-hearted.  Grateful.  And, as always, so grateful for YOU too!

Monday, July 16, 2012

Of Puppets, Playfulness and Pals

Despite the fact that I am still processing Taos and its myriad tales, it was time for me to travel again.  Not many people in this world can say that their BFF is a puppeteer, so I consider myself to be one lucky duck.  Likewise, she considers herself incredibly fortunate to be working alongside (literally) Kevin Frisch of Frisch Marionettes

Kevin and Amy are just past the middle of two weeks in Roswell, Georgia for the 2012 Roswell Summer Puppet Series.  I treated (i.e., shamelessly invited) myself to spend a long weekend hanging out with these very talented and hard working artists and was graciously given a behind-the-scenes perspective of their production of Rumpelstiltzkin.

Every show was pure magic.  Their dedication and passion was clear to one and all, not only during the presentations but well before and long after.  It truly warmed my heart to hear the children respond to the story, the music, the antics, and to know that it all served to fuel their imaginations in a world otherwise bent upon distraction. 

I am now back home in Cincinnati while Kevin and Amy prepare to present Hansel and Gretel all week.  The little girl in me has stayed behind to sit quietly, wide-eyed and cross-legged, beside the stage.  The grown-up in me must get back to my own work in this crazy world ... but, hopefully, with a bit more playfulness than before. 

Thank you, Kevin and Amy, for letting me pal around with you and the puppets for a few days.  And thank you, Roswell, for your hospitality, tacos and pie!

Friday, July 6, 2012

Taos Tales #1

From what we could see between the trees behind the pigeon houses at Mabel’s, all signs indicated an amazing sunset was afoot. With little time to spare but our ability to expand it in our back pockets, we took our chances and launched ourselves down the highway. Stop here? Nope. Here? Hurry! How about here? Back out. Further south. Such was this a metaphor for life, we can only know where when we get there.

We stealthily tucked ourselves into the dusty entrance of the abandoned Stakeout just as the horizon caught fire. Passing cars pierced our ears like screeching jets, but then the reward of stone silence. Between us and this sunset, amongst the darkening brush, disappeared the dangerous abyss of the Rio Grande Gorge, melting into a boundariless blanket of moonless black.

It’s not just witnessing the sunset along an unobstructed desert horizon that will change you, but having the fortitude to stick around and behold the aftermath of it. The light fades. The colors mute. But the subtle beauty of what remains will hang in the air with the scent of sage every bit as long as you are willing to stick around for it. Nothing ever goes to waste.