Poetic Sky

Arizona, Morning Sky

i thank You God for most this amazing

day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees

and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything

which is natural which is infinite which is yes

[E.E. Cummings]





                           

Arizona, Sunset Sky

LET us go then, you and I,


When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherised upon a table;

[T.S. Eliot]

Morning Run -- Here Comes the Sun (And I Say It's Alright?)

This morning's run was rushed, with anxiety and worry in hot pursuit, feet slapping the still-cool concrete.  I had to hurry, because I couldn't be late for an early-morning meeting with an important person to talk about a possible career shift.  That's nervous-making stuff for a measure-your-life-out-in-coffee-spoons person like me.  Then I came across these desert blooms, almost set ablaze by the rising sun.  Sun, sun, sun.  Here it comes.  In the valley of heatstroke, that's not necessarily a good thing.  But the beauty of the scene gave me a boost.  That, and I found another lucky penny.  Must be a sign.  Both lucky pennies came along in my suit jacket to my meeting.  Sure didn't hurt.



Monday's Metaphor -- Gutter Glory

The winds are blowing in the heat of summer, and I'm grieving over golden grove un-leaving.  {Well, actually the palo verde trees formerly ablaze in golden splendor are reverting to green sticks.}

This sight left me thinking on the one hand about how fleeting the truly glorious moments in life can feel, but also how there is beauty to be found everywhere -- even in the gutter moments of our lives.

That and that, and also that there is a time and season for all things.      

Monday's Metaphor

The Flower Fields
Carlsbad, California (April 2011)

Sometimes, you may find yourself out of sync with your surroundings.  Might not be a bad thing. 

Ranunculus

My favorite flower is the ranunculus (and it took me years to remember that name).  All my efforts in past years to grow the bulbs have met with failure (but I have a black thumb, so that's not saying much).

I have planters overflowing with the plants right now, but I know they will be short-lived.  If anyone knows of a convincing faux ranunculus bouquet, please let me know.

Next weekend, I'll be visiting The Flower Fields in Carlsbad, California.  Have you ever been?  Fields and fields of the blooms as far as the eye can see.  It's been about 6 years since my last visit, and I can't wait to share the joy with my kids.

Wednesday's Word -- Color

I happened across this quote from Van Gogh:

"There is no blue without yellow and without orange."  

I like this.  As you can see in many of Van Gogh's paintings, he appreciated that juxtaposing complementary colors (like blue and orange) makes each color pop and seem brighter than it would otherwise.  Blue on its own isn't as blue as it could be if paired with orange or yellow, and vice versa.

Here's what he had to say about the technique:  "To exaggerate the fairness of hair, I  come even to orange tones, chromes and pale yellow . . . . I make a plain background of the richest, most intense blue that I can contrive, and by this simple combination of the bright head against the rich blue background, I get a mysterious effect, like a star in the depths of an azure sky."

He of course used this technique not just when painting hair, but nature too.

Taken as metaphor, "There is no blue without yellow and without orange" means (to me) that diversity is a beautiful thing.  The true potential of one thing (or person) may not reveal itself until put up against its complement.  Is your orange missing its blue?  Maybe you already have the blue background you need for your own personal pop, or maybe you need to find it.   

Ironically, the word "color" comes from an Indo European root (*kel-2) that means "to cover, conceal, save."  In a true sense, color can be a cover.  Paint the barn, paint the walls, paint your face.  Color may hide what lies beneath.

But color may also reveal.  On a technical level, color is the effect produced on the eye and its nerves by light waves of different wavelength or frequency.  Light transmitted from an object to the eye stimulates the different color cones of the retina, thus making it possible to perceive various colors in the object.

Yes, color brings a thing to life.  Makes me think of the original Wizard of Oz movie with the opening Kansas scenes in dreary hues of black and white, followed by colors that seem to burst from the screen once Dorothy reaches the Land of Oz.

Color can have that same effect on a smaller scale -- the food you eat, the clothes you wear, a pop of color in a room of your house.  Color can indeed save.  So go put something orange against an intense blue background and see what you see.  It might just improve your outlook on the day.

Standing Sentinel

This is what I see on my morning runs.  Well, I actually see these white birds standing sentinel in the dark because I run in the wee hours, but this is a shot I took a bit later on a Saturday morning.  Don't they look like they're waiting for something to happen?  That's how I feel too, but with much less patience.

Nifty Items I'm Eyeing and Would Like to Be Buying

La Mer, The Lip Balm.  Amazing stuff.  Sold out on La Mer's website, but you can still get it from some department stores (online and in store).  

Wood block rug from West Elm (for indoor or outdoor use)

A modern chandelier like this one (not going to happen).

Have a good weekend!

I See the Moon, Up Over My Head. It's Full and It's Round and It Shines on My Bed.

Anyone else see it today?  I swooned over it twice.  Once this morning at around 6 a.m.  I was on my run and had no camera.  And then again around 6 p.m. tonight at the park with my kids (with a camera).  Made my day.  Twice.

Nifty Items I'm Eyeing and Would Like to Be Buying

I haven't done one of these posts for quite some time, but that {unfortunately} doesn't mean I haven't been buying.  Here are some items I've been eyeing lately.


1.  These earrings (and rings and hairclips, etc.) from the Ciao Bella Boutique on etsy.  So many cute choices, and my girls are now both begging to get their ears pierced.  (Thanks to my sister Allison who sent me a pair for Christmas!)

2.  Workout clothes from lululemon.  So comfortable and flattering, I just want to stay in the clothes all day.  (A client turned me on to these.)

3.  Bond No. 9 perfume.  The fact that the bottles are beautiful is just the icing on the cake.  Some of my favorites:  The Scent of Peace and Fire Island.   

Wednesday's Word -- Foreign

Door in Tunis, Tunisia

The Tunisian woman in the photo I blogged about this week has me thinking about the word "foreign."  I am, admittedly, a word nerd.  But even for the less nerdy among us, you have to admit this is interesting.

Foreign

The word "foreign" means "of, pertaining to, or derived from another country or nation; not native."  It means "strange or unfamiliar."  But here's the fascinating (to me) thing.  The word comes from the Indo-European Root *dhwer-, which means door or doorway.  "Foreign" literally means "out of doors."  Something that is foreign is outside your comfort zone, your home, your enclosure.  She is on one side of the door, and you are on the other.  It's just a matter of opening the door and letting the outside in.  

Other words that come from the same root include forest (originally used to capture the idea of a place forbidden or protected by a barrier) and foreclosure (literally, put out of doors).  Isn't that interesting?  Come on, it is.  

Makes me love the beautiful foreign doors I discovered on my travels all the more. 

Post script:  this post evidences the fact that my days and weeks blur, and I often lose track of the days of the week.  Thus a Wednesday's Word post on a Tuesday.  Truth be told, sometimes I even get morning and night confused, as I stand staring into my medicine cabinet, trying to figure out whether to use the night moisturizer or the daytime sunscreen. 

Different Worlds, Same Taste in Handbags

I keep thinking about the Tunisian woman in the photo I posted on Friday.  Although I took it from quite a distance, I was using a good camera.  I enlarged the photo on my computer and was amazed at a couple of things:  (1) the look in her eyes, boring right into mine; and (2) her handbag.  Now isn't that something that the handbags we carry (a world apart) are so very similar?  And here I thought mine was so unique.  Here's the side by side:

And here's her face.  Lovely but fierce.

Fragmentary Blue

Malta, May 2010

Such a blue.    

Something I quite like from Robert Frost:

Fragmentary Blue


Why make so much of fragmentary blue
In here and there a bird, or butterfly,
Or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
When heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?


Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)--
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.

The blue water of Malta isn't sky, but it is heavenly.  Looking at vacation photos of the Mediterranean gives my wish for blue a whet.  I'll just have to dream for now.

Beautiful Disaster

I came home to this today.  {Thank you, wind storm.}

Really.  Needless to say, I was less than pleased with this greeting.  Imagine about 200 or so shattered drinking glasses sprinkled across your patio, in your pool and in your grass, just beckoning little feet and hands for the cutting.  I cleaned it up--all the while with my three children pressed against the sliding glass door, begging and miming their desperation to come out and join me.  

The amazing thing is that, in the process, I discovered that the glass shards are simply beautiful.  

I couldn't even bring myself to throw them away.  There must be something creative I can do to recycle and enjoy my now destroyed-beyond-repair patio table.  Ideas?

I know.  I can't help but see the metaphor in everything.  You know what I'm going to say, right?  Not that you can turn lemons into lemonade.  {I'm no Pollyanna.}  But it IS true that if you look closely enough at the shards of any disaster, there is a glimmer and a gleam.  {Even if there are bandaids too.} 

Potential {and a little request}

Hello there.  My photo "Potential" is a finalist in a little photo contest over at the Bloom blog (which is a great blog, by the way).

This cactus jumped out of nowhere from the side of a busy desert road--unintended, untended and beautiful. 

It made my day. 

To me, this image is a reminder that even under the prickliest of circumstances, 

all things--including cacti and people like you and like me--have BLOOM potential.

I'd love it if you'd take a minute to click over and vote for my photo.  The winner will be determined based on votes cast through the weekend.  Thanks!

All That Glitters and the Angry King

nce upon a time, there were two young princesses who loved glittery things.

They were gaga for glittery lip goop.

They were all aflutter for glittery, fairy dust.

They were positively passionate about glittery nail polish.

They were star-struck over glittery ball gowns.

They were all about the glittery art projects.

Because, after all, everything looks better when it sparkles.

But these princesses had a problem.  Glitter is messy.  It sticks to all surfaces.  It can hide, survive and resurface after days and weeks, even after extensive cleaning and lint brush rolling.  Not that they cared.  But unfortunately, the king did.  Quite a bit.  So much so, that he banned all glitter from his kingdom.  He decreed that he was:

Fed up with finding glitter on his royal couch.  

Entirely done with discovering glitter on the soles of his royal shoes.

Completely unwilling to tolerate any more glitter on the skin and scalp of the royal prince.

In sum -- he was done.

The princesses protested.  "Please!" they pleaded.  "Glitter makes the world pretty."  "How can we live without glittery headbands, dresses and art projects?"

At first, they continued their glitter habit in private, quickly stowing the evidence when his majesty entered their presence.  But the king was not fooled.  And the king was not kidding.  He made life very difficult for the queen, who did all she could to eradicate any trace of the offensive substance from the royal palace.  But it was not enough.

One evening, upon finding traces of golden glitter on his royal couch and royal behind, the king took desperate action.  He grabbed hold of one of the princess's favorite royal ball gowns and pulled (much like one of Cinderella's evil stepsisters) with all his might in an attempt to rip and destroy that glittery garment, so that it could never be worn again.  He did not succeed (perhaps not for lack of strength, but for shame at how low he had stooped).  But he did forever damage it.

Wide-eyed and dismayed, the princesses complied with the decree from that day forward and were doomed to live anything but happily ever after.  But thankfully, even angry kings can change their ways or at least get distracted.

The princesses still enjoy their glitter from time to time, but never with the carefree abandon of those early days.  Now the glitter must stay in its strictly designated spot.  And when the queen (who is quite conscientious about cleaning, by the way) happens upon a speck of glitter, she cleans it up quickly so as not to leave a trace.  But -- although she will never admit it -- she does from time to time place a speck or two inside the king's royal shoe, or on the king's royal behind.  Just for fun.  Glitter does make the world a prettier place, after all.  Even if the king doesn't think so.

Pied Child

   Pied[pahyd]adj., 

Decorated or colored in blotches

Glory be to God for dappled things--
. . .
All things counter, original, spare, strange;
  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
     With swift, slow, sweet, sour, adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                                     Praise him.

Gerard Manley Hopkins, "Pied Beauty," 1877.

Hopkins (who was a Jesuit priest) was praising nature and certainly not a mud-speckled toddler.  But so often I look at my own children with the same wonder -- even when they are all dappled, and look more like "brinded cows" than children.

In case you're interested, "dappled" (similar to pied) means having spots or patches of color.  "All things counter, original, spare, strange" refers to things that are different, rare, unusual, and contrary.  All fitting descriptions for my children on occasion.

Praise be to God for pied children.