Saturday, April 24, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
This was a long, wonderfully restful weekend for us. Marathon Monday today. Although the weather was rainy and overcast most of the time and the Red Sox blew every game, Friday night Ty and I saw the Alvin Ailey dance troupe up close and personal. What an experience. They even did some Pilates moves -- of course, much, much better than I ever could!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
It only seems appropriate that this East Coast gal should use a covered bridge for this topic. Jenne Farm is one of the most photographed places in Vermont, off a country road, in the area of Woodstock, Vermont. Prior to the digital age of photography, I photographed this farm in the early morning dew. My photos are lost, but these, courtesy of the web, hopefully demonstrate my point. I believe these shots are synonymous with "bucolic". Hope you enjoy!
Etymology: Latin bucolicus, from Greek boukolikos, from boukolos cowherd, from bous head of cattle + -kolos (akin to Latin colere to cultivate) — more at cow, wheel
Date: circa 1609
1 : of or relating to shepherds or herdsmen : pastoral
2 a : relating to or typical of rural life b : idyllic
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Do you have a special time that is a sanctuary for your mind, a serenity from your worries, a release of tensions, a 'kensho' moment? I discovered quite serendipitously that the silence of the dark in early morning can be a meditative time, absent noise from life's daily distractions. I first sensed this feeling during 2AM feedings with my then-infant son, when I was able to listen to the quiet tranquility of the night. At this stage in my life, I am sometimes awakened from a light sleep by the chimes of the grandfather clock and am reminded again of this peaceful retreat of the quiet.
When a man knows the solitude of silence, and feels the joy of quietness, he is then free from fear and he feels the joy of the dharma ... Buddha
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Granary Burial Grounds - along with Ben Franklin and Sam Adams is -- Mother Goose!
Just down the street from the State House and to the side of the Old Park Street Church is this 1660's final resting place of a few of Boston's famous statesmen.
Monday, April 12, 2010
All things change, nothing is extinguished. There is nothing in the whole world which is permanent. Everything flows onward; all things are brought into being with a changing nature; the ages themselves glide by in constant movement. — Ovid
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Cezanne's studio in St. Paul de Vence. This lovely town is located on the Cote d'azur of Southern France. A hill town I would love to return to visit for an extended time = so picturesque, filled with history, a sense of lazy character all its own. The perfumeries there are most intriguing!
Friday, April 9, 2010
I am reminded each day how thankful I am to experience life on earth, to cherish health and to find happiness in every thing. Gratitude for the light of day, as yet untouched by events, memories, people, thoughts. Mine to draw as it is.
I have found that if you love life, life will love you back. ~ Arthur Rubinstein
Photos: Sunrise on Kauai
Thursday, April 8, 2010
After my disappointment with An Italian Affair, I read The Sixteen Pleasures. Yes, Annie, this was much better!
Now, my dilemma: Should I order this hardcover, The Hand that Just Held Mine or continue with my Florence-inspired readings, The Birth of Venus?
Has anyone read The Hand that Just Held Mine?
Here's an excerpt of a review which piqued my curiosity:
"Ultimately, I think this story is about the ferocity of love. Specifically the love between a mother and a child. The bond that exists between them - an invisible, nearly unbreakable bond. A bond that is magical, and terrifying and inexplicable. There is beauty in this story, beauty in words and action and descriptions. But none was more beautiful for me than the story about that bond.
The women we become after children...We lose muscle tone, sleep, reason, perspective. Our hearts begin to live outside our bodies. They breathe, they eat, they crawl and - look! - they walk, they begin to speak to us. We learn that we must sometimes walk an inch at a time, to stop and examine every stick, every stone, every squished can along the way. We get used to not getting where we were going...We get used to living with a love that suffuses us, suffocates us, blinds us, controls us."