packing

Last week's road trip was really inspiring. At the swimming hole, Lisa talked about how she doesn't have things in her house, (or her life for that matter), that don't feel good. She's pared down her wardrobe to reflect her aesthetic, and she was/is in the process of doing the same for her home. 

Our conversation really struck a chord with me. In a perpetual state of reducing, my closet and bureau are now full of clothes that I like and wear. My shoes and boots have been honed and so have my bags. Friends have been recipients of gently used items that are now where they belong; much better than sitting in a bin waiting for the time when I might want it, (as if that time will ever come).

What do we want going forward? Is a common beginning to our discussions of late. Finally, we're passing along our dining table and chairs. We never meant to have them this long, we wanted to ditch it when we moved two years ago. We were certain we'd use this one until we found another, and you know how that goes. I've taken careful measurements in our new house and I'm heading out on a re-con mission after an appointment tomorrow morning to scope out the table I'm coveting and need to convince the mister is 'the one.'


It feels good to dump our mis-matched sheets and towels. A jumbled combination of our room, miss A's room and the guest room, mashed together into one tiny, cramped space so that everything is worn and used and not in that good, worn way. Silly as it sounds, I'm really looking forward to having each room with its own things, so when guests arrive I'm not scrambling for the duvet cover, or a pair of matching towels.


Here's a medley of 'before' photos of our new home. 

top row: 
front of the house, 2-living room, guest bath with a shower(!)
2nd row: 
wine fridge (!), and a counter dedicated to my cookbooks, be still my heart, the cheesy window box behind the sink that will become an amazing herb garden, the dining area, and finally, the family room 
3rd row: 
family room again, our bedroom our bathroom, (with a soaking tub!!!), and the turret room for my vanity table (!!)
4th row: 
2 of the living room, the terrace, (this is where we'll put the hammock instead of the seating), and finally, the back of the house.


We have all of our existing furniture mentally placed and we've decided on a set for the terrace, which will face away from the sun, and a hammock, (yay!), instead of a chaise.


That blue wall that you see above will become a warm sand color, the swatch already placed in my journal. We're starting in this home with a neutral palette; living in the space, learning its flow before we make any big purchases.

24 months

I've been really trying to finish this copy and paste project I've undertaken moving my blog here. It's amazing to think that I started my blog on squarespace just 24 months ago and all that has gone down since then. 


Even though I'm not reading every post I move here, (nor am I moving every post), I've definitely been caught in reverie reading bits and pieces.

2010 was hard, it's documented, and yet my lingering memories don't include that year being particularly difficult, other than our move.* It's no wonder that I feel like I've walked through the fire because I see now, how far I've come.

It's hard to wrap my head around really, that just 24 months ago we were moving across the country with a visit to Vancouver to see my sister and her kids as our belongings moved from east to west. 

This Friday is her birthday and the images from last year in Vancouver replay again and again. It's hard to believe that a year has almost passed. It feels like it's gone so quickly and yet, it has been a long, long year. 

I think this time of Spring into Summer is going to be that time of year; bittersweet and memory-inducing, a time to take a bit of extra care to go gently.

*Oh how quickly I forget. In 30 days, we'll see what tune I'm singing. 

she had her head in the clouds

Nature is a mutable cloud which is always and never the same.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

list no. 22 :: 22 constants

1. Reading
2. Bookstores, like this one
3. Buying books
4. Film, all varieties*
5. This little city that we live in by the sea
6. Avocados
7. Dark chocolate with...(lately it's mint or dried cherries)
8. Fish tacos in handmade corn tortillas
9. White Sangria
10. Coffee
11. Black tea
12. Dirty Chai Soy Lattes
13. Polka dots
14. Stripes
15. Leather
16. Red lipstick
17. Saltwater sandals
18. Crystals
19. Tuberose
20. Gardenias
21. Meyer Lemons
22. Collecting Star Wars stuff,(it makes it feel like she's with me)

*excluding 120 film. we had a falling out a number of years back. 

inspiration

Then, like a sudden, easy birth, grace -
rendered as light to the softening earth, 
the moon stepping slowly backwards
out of the morning sky, reward
for the dark hours we took to arrive and kneel
at the silver river's edge near the heron priest,
annointed, given - what we would wish ourselves.
-Carol Ann Duffy, Rapture

i am

I am in a place of knowing what my boundaries and limitations are, without making excuses.*

I come from a place of gratitude for all that has passed this year. I've learned so much.

I see that I have options, (and always have).

I love our new home! I'm so freaking excited, even if I have yet to pack one box. 

I trust that my process in life is to experience the highs and lows.

I believe that I'm learning to accept the highs and lows as the ride that it is. And lately I like to think of my martial arts teacher in school, (we were required to take Tai Chi and Qi Gong as part of the curriculum), a sinewy, reed-like man who had an amazing flow of energy when he moved. I saw his ball of Qi in his hands; the continuing movement of Qi, (of everything), is beautiful and fucked up; high and low.

I find Los Angeles fascinating. The more I explore, the more enamored I become. 

I wonder if they think of me and I wish that I didn't care, (still), so much. 

I call in grace and fortitude.

I found out that I like myself because I really do believe in the Polly Anna unicorn, glitter farts, while simultaneously dropping F-bombs and cynically viewing the world.


*I am the girl who has one hand beckoning you forward and the other hand stopping your steps. I am a dichotomy and accept that this operating system, (how I choose to live my life), doesn't work for everybody.

list no. 21 :: a road trip

1. I hit the road early, Santa Barbara my destination.

2. My bathing suit and cameras packed, I went to visit a friend for a long, over-due, fun-filled day.

3. We decided to start our morning with a hike, but made a quick pit-stop so I could purchase this linen pouch, 

because I was coveting hers.

4. My spend-y moment passed, we drove to the mountains for a simple hike into the park and an amazing swimming hole that we had all to ourselves.

5. Standing in this swimming hole was purifying and cleansing.

6. I didn't realize how wound up I'd been, until I finally felt my breathe slow and my body tuned into the rhythmic sway of the water.

7. After snacking and relaxing,

we drove to the sweet town of Los Alamos, for lunch and libations here:

8. Late afternoon on this beach, found us combing for holey rocks and feathers. Instead we found sea glass and a delicate bird skull, which she added to her growing collection of bones.

9. After a delicious coffee restorative here, and a little time reviewing our day in her amazing fairy garden, 

it was time to go. 

10. And this girl was restored and rejuvenated once again. 

how many of us have them

Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes. 

-Nietzsche

this much i know

I've been going through archives lately, both here as I add old posts from Squarespace, and also on Blurb, as I make a book from a blog that was active from 2007-2009. 

I've been reading as I edit and remembering. There's my first time going to Squam and how I began to see myself again. We were renovating our home back east at the time, and there are countless stories of my beana when she was little. There was a lot of learning as she transitioned from a toddler into a school aged girl. (And it's amazing to read it all now as she transitions from little girl to teen.)


It has been good for me to re-read where I've been, if only to solidify a decision I made recently that took a lot of time and attention, (ok, and a fair share of self torture too), until I'd accepted the conclusion I'd arrived at long before I actually said the words,


"I'm not going to Squam this Fall."


And really, the decision was made for me when we bought our new home. A plane ticket back east isn't cheap, especially when we realized there were no air miles available for my ticket.* Backing out of my registration was all very tidy with the real excuse of having to watch our pennies now that we're home owners again, but the truth behind all of that is that I'm not ready for a retreat like Squam. 


Don't get me wrong, Squam is amazing. That lake and those cabins are spectacular. There's a flurry of bats at dusk and the call of the loons after dark. Falling stars drop from the sugar dusted sky, and there's the tranquility of tree breathing and feeling at one with nature that is met in those woods. And yet, that sort of stimulation, (a big retreat, lots of people), feels utterly overwhelming. I doubt my heart and psyche would withstand the experience, (dramatic I know), but also a truth. 


The next time I attend art camp anywhere, I need to feel solid from where I stand. I'm getting there without pressure, trusting my instincts, instead of talking myself out of what I need.




*Turns out, I can fly to London using air miles on a non-stop flight,  one month later in October. So essentially, it's more cost effective for me to fly to Europe than back east. Where's the logic in that, other than ohai, I'm going to London in October!!! 

list no. 20 :: 11 seemingly random things

Today's list is random in that the items listed here aren't following an obvious theme, although they are important to me and thus, worthy to make note of. 

1. My sister's children and her ex are moving to Los Angeles! What a gift, the opportunity to see them regularly and consistently. And I'd be lying if I wasn't relishing the fact that I won't have to travel to Vancouver any time soon. It's a beautiful city full of sad memories for me and honestly, I need a break. 
2. I spent a part of Mother's Day at the Rose Bowl Flea Market, the motherlode of flea markets here in the southland. I chose to pay the early bird price, ($5 additional), and it was worth it in a less stressy environment. I'm also convinced the best stuff goes early, proof positive in the super clean, working Polaroid Spectra I picked up for $20 and the wee collection of vintage blue glass bottles, ($5 each), that will sit in the kitchen window box. 3 perfect bud vases.
3. I visited my favorite book store and I got to watch the original Dirty Dancing while sipping on an iced dirty soy chai latte. 
4. I've started my summer, beach reading early with two different, mass market paperback collections: The Mayfair Witches by Anne Rice and A Game of Thrones series by George R.R. Martin. 
5. Speaking of reading, how do you read these days? Old school books? Nook? Kindle? iPad? I've been looking at a Kindle, but I'm still on the fence about it. I think it would be brilliant for traveling, (always trying to lighten the load), but I love to hold a novel in my hands and reading on my laptop right now, (new glasses coming), I'm missing the tactile love.
6. I'm thoroughly enjoying the process of going through my clothes as I pack. I'm noticing a theme to things that no longer suit me; clothes that I was inspired to buy because of online social medial stimulation. "She has that, I think it looks really cool, I want to be cool like that..." lead me down a slippery slop of impulse purchases, producing half dozen items now in a pile on my bed; aptly named the WTF was I thinking pile.
7. Other than sandals, my shoes, (not boots, i'm good with my boots), are relics of my acupuncture days. Comfortable clogs and floppy Birkenstocks were really great at work and fit with my casual, acupuncturist who wears lipstick style. And not at all in tune with how I like to dress here in California. 
8. I look at the way I dressed in those bucolic Nj years and again I can't help but think, WTF was I thinking? 
9. I see now that I was on some middle-aged war path, with my short hair and clothes that were stylish and comfortable and so mom who works part-time and lives in the suburbs, I cry. 
10. I'm not sure my style has a name these days, but I'm working towards my style statement and the relics from my other life back east and as an acupuncturist, (shoes that are almost new, clothes that are work-oriented), is another time, another Kristen. And it certainly doesn't work with how I want to represent myself now. 
11. And finally, in a complete non-sequiteur, proving just how random this list really is, I am completely obsessed with this Nars velvet gloss lip pencil. Lately, a brush of powder, curled eye lashes and this color is all I need to meet the world feeling pretty.

abide

A beautiful friend sent me this link months ago, but I couldn't absorb all the beauty encompassed in its words. This morning as I was cleaning up my inbox, (there's been a lot of cleaning up around here lately), I sat and read the essay again, recognizing the truth that there's a period when the grief begins to lift, (a blessing, truly), and also, trying to understand what was said about the Buddhist concept of joy and suffering.

This paragraph,  

Blessings to all those who couldn't - or wouldn't - abide with us. Who turned away from the spectacle of our sadness because it made them uncomfortable. What happened to us served to illustrate how we all walk along the edge of a precipice. Some people don't want to be reminded. This turning-away was not because they didn't care, but because their own histories and fears were, for the moment, overwhelming...

was the core of what I needed to walk away with this morning, this ability to acknowledge that forgiveness goes way beyond my black and white box of paradigms. 

Later, I looked up the word abide and it struck me, simply, that it goes both ways. The paragraph above plays both sides; not as an excuse, but as an explanation, a way to let go.  

fight the power

Every time that I've chosen to look outside of my sight lines, comparing myself to what others are doing, saying, being, I realize how off track I've become. 


It's easy to fall off my path, especially lately as I navigate new waters, reinventing myself as I work through my crap. I'm already uncomfortable with change and yet I forge ahead. Because this new land that I'm a member of, (stay at home mama), while trying to maintain some sort of individual identity, perhaps even clinging to the image I had of myself before, means I have only myself to look to for guidance. 


That's how it goes of course, but it's easy to convince myself otherwise in the face of fear. Fear has me believing that the answers are going to be found doing what everyone else is doing, pursuing a popular theme because it feels comfortable to conform, especially when the answers I'm seeking seem to allude me, all the time knowing that the answers are mine alone when I stop looking every where else. 

in a new york minute

I've spent about 20 minutes total in our new home, if that. I've taken cell phone photos that I study and wonder, 'why the hell did I take that shot?"

For a couple of weeks I was certain the master bath didn't have a toilet. For the life of me I couldn't visualize where it was and I'd even gone to rationalization mode, convincing myself that the powder room outside of our bedroom 'must be it', and that it really wasn't that far away. 'We'll deal', I said to myself because seriously, if this is the extent of my worries than am I not the luckiest girl around? 

Scrolling through those cell phone photos again, I spied the base of the toilet's reflection in the shower door. I finally answered that question and so it goes.


I'm studying the front yards of the houses in our neighborhood as we walk to school; noticing the pots and containers and what they contain. I know I look like a nutter as I stare at plantings and gardens, (sometimes taking photos), as I go about my day. I'm seriously obsessed with the succulent vegetation here. The whole desert and ocean terrain that we live in makes for interesting bed partners and I can't wait to do mix and match plantings for the terrace and front and back patios.


I know where our furniture will go, actually started space planning the moment I walked in the door even though I knew I shouldn't become so attached because real estate deals don't happen all the time, even with the best of intentions.


In my mind I'm decorating our walls with art work and I'm delighted that soon our kitchen will have space and light. No more cramped drawers and cabinets and a stupid 2 burner stove top that kills any desire I have to cook regularly. (The busted gas grill for BBQing that belongs to our landlords isn't offering any love either.) 


Our new kitchen is a bit more flash than we are, but again, it's not a problem. There are more cabinets and storage than we have things for. To have empty cabinets...be still my heart! There's an atrium/glass window box that sits behind the kitchen sink. I can't wait to start an herb garden in tiny, colorful, pots that will flourish in all that sunlight. Not a bad view to clean up to and I know the fragrance will be heavenly.


I don't relish the packing again, cursing myself for knowing I'd be cursing myself for not saving the boxes from the move two years ago. I'd really rather not pay for them, so I plan to shimmy on up to the counter at Starbucks to find out when they get a delivery, (those boxes are sturdy!), and hound my barista friends for boxes.


We'll be moving in no time, even though this count down to our move date, (June 29th), seems so far out. Certainly far enough away for me to procrastinate the task before me. 

list no. 19 :: tool time

Last week I was all proud of myself and the tools that I brought along to hang my show. I envisioned sharing M's electric drill, thinking that I was so slick to have one, and I prided myself for remembering the drill bits. Of course I completely forgot to bring a measuring tape or a level, and I forgot the most important element of all, the one that would actually help me hang my work: the screw driver bits.

Clearly, beyond the basics, we have an out-dated tool box. Who knew of all the wonderful, cordless, devices available? In no particular order, here are the tools that I plan to stock and supply over the next few months.

1. A cordless drill. This one was the one I borrowed and it was light-weight and very easy to use in the forward and reverse motion. Had a lot of power too.
2. Various drill bits, including screw drivers and allen wrenches.
3. A laser level. This one was the bomb! Be still my OCD heart in perfectly, level and straight art work that doesn't take 47 years to hang. This will definitely be the first item purchased.
4. A dremel. I've wanted one of these forever.
5. Wood screws and wood glue.
6. Liquid nails.
7. An assortment of picture hangers.
8. Heavy duty extension cord.

What am I forgetting? Suggestions please!! 

babbling on saturday evening, published sunday

Is it strange that I don't really care that the images from my squarespace blog aren't coming with the archives? Or that I'm not taking note of the photos attached to the posts so I can put them in later from flickr, or my own files?

It's the words that feel the most important to me after all, having them here, especially these past two years, because I didn't really journal personally other than online. 

It's curious that I care about preservation when I've been so easy to discard journals, blogs, records in the past. 

I'm turning off comments from those archived posts, (basically anything before May), because that was a different space and I like a fresh start. 

'i like to jump', she said

The first time she said, 'I like to jump', I thought, 'of course 

she does, nutter.'

And she knew I would think that, and of course she didn't care.

Because she knew and accepted that I could be a bit wound up at times, ahem.


"What if someone stares?" I asked.


"What if?" she said, and got into position.

She found the perfect spot for us to do our inaugural jump together, and she set up the camera.

This morning, an exercise class was going on while I jumped,(and jumped some more) and I heard snickering, and the occasional, 'weee', and 'jump!' and I didn't care. I mean, here they were huffing and puffing as they ran in a beach boot camp and I'm thinking they were looking pretty silly too. 

I will continue to jump for her, and especially for myself, because like she said, 

'I like to jump.'

changes, spontaneously

As you can see, there's a redirect here, away from Squarespace. I want to cut my budget and also, in a very world collision sort of way, I want to unlink my name to my blog. Check back now and again as I make changes and make this space my new home. 

xo,

Kristen