Leaf by Elizabeth

Last week I had one of the most peaceful times I've ever had, sitting on some stone steps, looking out over Walden Pond for over an hour, just being. On the way back, I passed some of my much loved twisty sticks, with the pond in the background- I love how these came out. The view. Welfie (selfie in the woods)

I love exploring new places! This is one of the many things I've re-discovered about myself this past year. These are generally things that were always true, but that now I can name and intentionally pursue. A few others are- color, painting, making things with my hands (knitting, basket-weaving, metal-work, pottery, you name it), thrift store shopping, taking photographs... Here are some recent pictures from exploring parts of a town I'd never been to, though it's close by (it'll look very familiar to you, Lue!). Stately architecture. Ahh- the winter afternoon light through the trees. I love the details on this one- especially the entry way and the roof. Looking in the window of an antique store- the sun was lighting up the collection of Shaker boxes. Reminds me of a building from my college. The reflection of a fiery sunset.

Wild Geese -- Mary Oliver You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

I recently mentioned William Blake and his " Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience " to a friend, as an example of someone who beautifully combined words and images. I hadn't read it since back in college, so I dug out my copy. I had forgotten how creative and innovative he was, especially for his time (late 18th-early 19th century).  I had also forgotten how much I love reading poetry. Here's a quote about Blake's work that I find so inspiring, from the introduction to the print edition by Sir Geoffrey Keynes: "He [Blake] knew that poetry and design are the same thing in different forms, and he possessed the originality and craftsmanship needed for the practice of both, separately or simultaneously...He wished to have them [his poems] clothed in design and colour, so that each poem-picture formed an artistic whole." And another poet I have recently rediscovered: Denise Levertov. I opened at random to her 6-part poem, "Mass for the Day o

The last few weeks have brought a number of changes. Our second little light has started preschool (she was so ready and is doing great!), and I've ramped up to working close to part-time for my freelance editing job. At the same time, I've increased my creative time to one hour/day, with the hopes of getting up to 2 hours/day soon. It's taking me a little while to adjust to the new schedule: I've been going to bed earlier so I can get up early and write morning pages ala The Artist's Way , and the week days generally feel busier. But overall it feels like a change in the right direction. Working at the library or coffee shop was no longer ideal, with my longer hours, so I carved out a space for myself in the 3rd floor office. It's become my morning pages/freelance work spot, and I love it. It gets lots of sun in the mornings. I had the crazy fun idea to buy a bunch of satin ribbon at the local 5 & 10, to hang instead of curtains. Ribbons and more ri

I have decided that I am not a fan of winter. My perspective may change in the future, I acknowledge that, but for now, winter and I are basically enemies. Because what I need in order to thrive is quality time in outdoor beauty. Winter messes with both aspects of that equation- it is often so cold/wet/dark that going out is unpleasant, and for the big stretches between snowstorms, the outdoors are just plain ugly (rotting plants, brown leaves, dead grass, gray skies, etc). However, I have been surprised by beauty throughout this winter. First by bare tree limbs against the navy or pearl or peach sky at dusk- a stark beauty, but still so intricate and pleasing. And then, of course the snow. Maybe if we lived somewhere where there was snow for the whole winter, I would be happier about the season. Because snow really is gorgeous. On a micro level, snowflakes are just amazing (I could stand outside gazing at them on my coat for hours), and on a macro level, I love the way it sparkles

Dirty dishes Clean dishes, soon to become dirty dishes Groceries, to unload and later cook, which will make more dirty dishes The near-constant state of our living room  May Sarton writes, in A Journal of Solitude , "I spent four hours in Keene yesterday getting the car inspected and two new tires put on, also finding a few summer blouses. The mail has accumulated in a fearful way, so I have a huge disorderly pile of stuff to be answered on my desk. In the end, what kills is not agony (for agony at least asks something of the soul) but everday life." And to that I say, "Yes and yes and yes!!!" My "morning pages" journal created by my dear friend. A journal which asks much of my soul in the best way.