Waiting

No one ever takes this picture. The deck is waiting. The chairs are waiting. No one is there but me. Everything is waiting.

I know why this one attracts me. One, there is symmetry. Two, there are broad open spaces with no one there. NO ONE THERE. Do you read that? I like space to be alone. I need space to be alone. Three, it's just different enough. The cruise ships never take this picture -- although they should, because it suggests that the entire ship is yours for the taking, for the sitting, for the walking, for the just being. My goodness, you could even turn handstands down the deck if you wanted. It's all there, just waiting for me.

Pietrasanta

I have thought of this picture often this winter. After each storm, the snow nestles in the empty crooks of the trees like these stones.

Stones in a tree? That makes no sense. The snow makes sense, but why would a sculptor put stones in a tree? Stones - round hard immovable in a tree - alive changing growing. The stones are impediments to growth.

So, what are my stones today? Well, that constant fear of doing something wrong. That need to be right. That fear of just plain out enjoying myself with no goals, no plans. The snow melts away -- the stones will take longer to erode.

Funky House in Key West

It's not the color of the door that's funky. Key West had lots of magnificent brightly colored doors. It's not even the fact that they still had the poinsettia on the front porch in mid-January. It's that handbag for a mailbox.

Don't you just love it? A handbag -- painted to match the door -- for a mailbox. So creative -- so funky.

Lots of times, people say I'm creative. I'm really not. I'm a collector. I see ideas and I remember them. Sometimes I improve on them. I organize and share them. But I am not really the one who CREATES the ideas.

Anyway - love that pocketbook!

Clarity

Not even sure why this picture attracts me. I guess it's the clarity -- you can SEE those gravel stones through the water. Does it matter that the stones were put there by Celebrity, Inc. instead of God? Don't think so. It's still freakin' beautiful.

I don't believe in clarity. I don't trust it. WHY is another of those unanswered questions, but I have a lot of trouble trusting people's statements - particularly their compliments. "Good try" really means "you missed it." "Great shot" means "I can't believe you actually won a point." I read into and behind and under and I twist every statement until it somehow confirms my old beliefs that I'm not worth very much.

But I'm learning. I know about my tendencies to mis-read everything. And I'm learning to accept, just a little -- to accept and take it in -- to keep all of it in my heart.

Trees in Vermont

Straight lines. I am attracted to straight lines.

I love geometric paintings, quilts, boxes - straight lines.

I love Bach -- for the beauty and melody and just breath-stopping awe that he created within the constraints of the period - straight lines.

I love these empty trees, birches I think, row after row of straight lines.

but I notice these days (and maybe you'll see it in later blogs) that I am finding beauty in the curved lines as well.

Morning on the canal

What a magnificent day on the canal. I went early enough that, although there were bikers, walkers, runners on the towpath, the water was all mine. Except for the turtles, the heron, the flowers, the sky.

This is meditation.