Silence and Apologies

To my family whom I dearly love ... I apologize for my holiday silences.  It will be better (soon, I hope).  Thank you to those who have reached out to me - even if I haven't responded (yet).

Happy New Year (by definition)

Here's hoping ... sigh ... the New Year hasn't seemed all bright and shiny or even festive yet.

This morning at church, a great emphasis was placed on the word "new" and the message was largely about fasting (before we launch into our 21 day fast - giving up something natural in pursuit of something supernatural).  By the end of the service, the hole in my heart wasn't throbbing as bad as it was when I arrived.

By definition, "NEW" means "taking the place of one that came before."  That would probably be an understatement this year.  2012 is new. It's taking the place of 2011.  But there is much else that qualifies as "new." New relational status. New home. New family dynamic. New questions. New pursuits (or the lack thereof).

What I don't know is what exactly will take the place of "one that came before" in most anything in my life right now.

Holiday Spirit

I'm trying! It just doesn't seem like the Christmas season yet ... so when I had an extra 15 minutes after errands while Miss M was at dance class, I went to Rhema to see the lights.  Thankfully, my camera was in the trunk, so I played for a while.  I even tried to create a makeshift bokeh frame out of my drink cover.  Have you ever tried to purposely rip a heart shape into plastic? Not easy! I'll have to go back with a better creation.

In the meantime, I have been thinking about symbolic things ... anything to give a frame to my thoughts or feelings or place in life.  Tonight it's the unfocused but "new focused" interest that can be found by looking beyond the space between me and my environment.

There's more to a scene than what I can see in front of me.
There's more to my environment than what I can focus on.
There's more to my life than what I can carve out of my own efforts.
Somehow ... I want to get my focus off of me, off of the things around me, and set it so far past it all that a new picture appears ...
Something new, different, patterned with possibility, intersecting with inspiration, hinting toward a horizon ripe for discovery.

Maybe this will be my bokeh holiday ... looking past, focusing beyond myself, and finding new beauty.

Glances

I glance her way and get a glimpse of dimensional time.  I absorb a present moment different than I've known before.  I see a flash of her future and a flashback of my past.  I see her beauty and wonder how I missed the  the time that turned her into a young woman.

One Moment Danced ...

My little one is growing up. She's becoming a young lady and a beautiful performer. I may need to do a series of photos just from her years in the Nutcracker!

And I do want to gripe just a bit.  I brought my camera to the performance hoping I'd hear those magic words: "No flash photography."  And I did!  Those words are my magic because I do NOT use flash (and truly hate it when all cameras are penalized because of those who).  So when I hear that, it's equal to saying, "Go ahead! Take all the photos you want as long as you don't use flash."

There was one lady evidently with the production (she had a name tag, but I couldn't read the name) who REALLY DID NOT LIKE ME taking those photos.  But far beyond me, she made quite the scene ... kept turning around, glaring, and giving very loud "SHHHH"s and even imitating me by saying something ... I heard "CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!" being uttered between other loud whispers I tried to ignore.  It's one thing when a camera makes a natural noise, and completely another when a human imitates, shushes, stares, glares, and turns around constantly.

I'm guessing it's people like her who are behind all the "NO _____" rules.  I would like to say that I am also not obtrusive like some can be (and I've heard used as a reason why cameras aren't allowed) ... I just sit in my seat and capture what I can.  Why?  Because of the above.  This is how I experience these things best - behind a lens, making memories for my loved ones and me to share.

Trust

Trust erodes and corrodes when lives are in limbo.  Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

Water and oxygen ... two elements necessary for life are also two elements that can deteriorate iron.  I'm intrigued.  I'm especially interested in the picture it gives of rusted out life.  Iron is so amazingly strong, yet these two elements which are life-giving (and which also do not harm iron separately) can simply by being present over time completely consume iron!

Walls and gates can lose their strength and no longer fulfill their purpose.  So too when trust erodes.  What once was strong or should be a strength is simply being eaten away.

As I think about my biggest missteps in life, it all goes back to trust.  I trusted too easily.

Mistakes and trust ... I made mistakes. I lost trust in myself.  And that was my first big mistake.

But I don't really want to reflect on the past.  I'm thinking about how limbo erodes trust.

Definitions of trust (n)

trust [ trust ]   

1. reliance: confidence in and reliance on good qualities, especially fairness, truth, honor, or ability
2. position of obligation: the position of somebody who is expected by others to behave responsibly or honorably
3. hope for future: hopeful reliance on what will happen in the future

Here is where I have made missteps ... at least with people and with myself.  I have had hopeful reliance on what will happen in the future.  And I have even had such confidence that I have made life changes in the expectation of those good things happening.  But what happens when that hope is unfulfilled?  It makes me think of Proverbs 13:12.  "Hope deferred makes the heart sick ..."

And I found an interesting version on bible.cc about the verse from the Bible in Basic English:  "Hope put off is a weariness to the heart; but when what is desired comes, it is a tree of life."

I am weary.  I am worn.  My heart is weary to the point that I once again don't know what to trust.  I feel too weak to trust myself.  Too weak to trust myself to hear truth.  I want that tree of life to grow strong.

It's amazing what we trust versus what we do not trust.  I trust my BlackBerry but not my heart.  If I can ever "get it right" in that department, I would be on my way to conquering the world.

Laughter

Always a welcome sound ... laughter was a big part of a rousing game of horseshoes with Uncle James at grandma and grandpa's house in Kansas.  (And even though I couldn't capture the action clearly, I still love this photo!)

Winds 'n Roses

(Oops! I edited and published something quite old and thought it would retain the original date. Oh well!)

Exhausted, I lie here sleepless, listening to the wind. My thoughts drift and swirl like the sounds dancing outside my window.  They say a storm is coming. Knowing this makes the wind sound different. I listen a little closer. I hear a threat and a howl. I wonder what will happen ... if we will be prepared, protected.

But as I contemplate, I remember that wind is what one waits for when wanting to fly a kite. I remember that wind carries seeds to perpetuate new growth. I remember that sails were meant to catch the wind and propel a vessel.

So I wonder in a metaphor of life ... what am I holding to the wind? I realize that I feel fragile. What I hold is more like a flower than something destined for flight. I think maybe I have wrapped my wings around myself and they have become soft like petals. I imagine myself as a flower in the wind.  And I worry that the delicate layers will be quickly stripped and my hopes now folded and soft will have been dashed.

I write and let the wondering thoughts wash over me ... Silly me. I know that just as it would make no sense to display a boquet in a windstorm, it also makes no sense to try and fly a kite indoors. Both will result in some kind of destruction! There's a time and place for everything.

Nurture the fragile. Launch the bold.

Turning Entanglement To Art

Sometimes life is bland and flat ... other times it's a tangled mess ... it can be a party ... or it can be the residue from others that is left for me to clean up.  It can look like nothing or an intricate maze.  What makes life beautiful? Perspective.

Maybe my life is all tangled.
Maybe the bright splashes are to be celebrated instead of figured out.
Maybe daily life is a slab of ordinary underneath everything.
But it could be that if I look closer, maybe it's art.

I'm considering adopting a new motto:  Never untangle ... find the beauty.

Howl

And so she performs ... the "wolf" performing to Howl (by Florence + the Machine).  She loved the drama of this dance!  It was a tough competition this year (the younger girls didn't place) but it's only the first.  Here we go!

Black Light Special

As we stood in line waiting for our turn on the Rockin' Rollercoaster, we heard the announcement, "This ride DOES go upside down." M's head whipped around toward me and her eyes were HUGE! I had just told her that I didn't think it went upside down - at least I didn't remember that it did. It was the one thing that would have prevented her from going. She did NOT want to go upside down!

I couldn't help but laugh and asked what she wanted to do. She was torn. The event had been built so high in her mind that she didn't want to NOT go. And she kept commenting about how her brother would be proud of her if she rode it.

And so we rode ... 3 times!

Screams and laughter were part every round. She was positively glowing (and not just from the black lights in the ride)! I'm glad my memory failed me. It helped Miss M become a coaster lover! Now THAT'S special.

Cake and Laughter

Turning 12 while waiting for a Disney adventure had highlights of its own.  From finding a cake and candles to forgetting matches ... and having hotel staff offer to sing but finding instead when we returned a lobby FULL of business men ... we found plenty of moments to laugh.

The Imogen Adventure Continues

I was finally able to download everything ... and I'm 3 of 3 for artwork submissions in the "heapsong" series! The image used on the "thank you" page is one of the walled garden gates. And I get to be mentioned in the credits both as a Garden Angel and as a photographer this time!

Immi's Hands

I've seen these hands from afar ... creating music, expressing joy, punctuating emotion on a stage or a video blog.  But the first time I saw these hands up close, they eclipsed the expected handshake and embraced me with a warm hug accompanied by a double-cheeked kiss.  That day, I watched the same hands serve others cups of soup and wrangle tools that broke ground in the walled kitchen garden.  Throughout the week, I watched these hands work and welcome day after day ... Gentle, strong, elegant and expressive ... just like her.

The humanity behind Imogen Heap's hands marked me.  Seeing her humble service, personal inspirations, intimate affections, and joyful explorations made her feel much more like a real life person (which, of course, she is).  And maybe more astonishingly, made me feel more like a friend than a fan.

So when Imogen began to play after hours at the celebration party in her home, it was more than "just" music.  It was far more than a moment to savor in the presence of someone famous and amazing.  It was life unfolding unscripted, resting and cradled ... all of us together ... all of us basking in the wash of words and moments and music shared earlier ... all of us with these meditative tones to brush through our souls.  The beauty of simply being with one another was profoundly woven in melody.

I now see how people can so easily call her "Immi" ... and it now seems so formal to call her anything else.  Immi's hands ... yet another inspiration.

The Stairs And I

I don't know why I didn't think about this before I acted on my desire to see a castle ... they don't have non-scary steps!  So in addition to my big accomplishments of walking and hiking all over creation and not dying, I also climbed TWO sets of these (there are two separate towers people can climb)!

The first one (above) took me a few times of starting/stopping/readjusting bags before I actually did it.  I held my breath, then told myself to breathe, and then would force myself to slowly breathe as I put each foot on a disappearing, skinny step.  There's only room for one on these!  Ignore the butterflies.  Think about things other than falling.  And voila!  Suddenly, you're on top!  There's only one downfall after the beautiful vistas ... you have to go back down.

But as you can see, I didn't die.  In fact, I'm uploading lots of photos to Flickr right now for others to enjoy!  I won't have time to upload them all right away (it's almost midnight here - and I have limited internet), but when they're done, you can find them here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/indigobleue/sets/72157627716733407/ 

Flowers to Flowers and Dust to Dusk

This is how my day started (in Lewes) and ended (in London) ... with a whole bunch of things in between!

Really, I wanted to write a poem, but can't seem to get the gears started.  I keep thinking about a phrase Imogen Heap used when talking about the song she is working on in conjunction with the garden project:

The piece I want to write is from the voice of the Walled Garden itself. A spoken word piece or perhaps a kind of collective voice for neglected spaces and abandoned man made structures. Being in the garden, I hear it almost sigh in relief with the news of this fresh enthusiasm. As if it's been calling out to anyone who might catch it from dust, to fall in love with it again. As those of you involved breathe a new life into the garden, community and beyond, it becomes clearer to me what it's been missing all these years and between spurts of getting my hands dirty, I'll be penning these thoughts.

And truly, the "dust" moment with the gravestone pictured above was part of a much bigger moment that I need to share ... but I'll need to revisit it and get more coherent thoughts on it.

White Cliffs to Brown Rooftops

Just have to share before I go to bed ... the sprawling view I had yesterday was from that white spot in the circle.  I am proud to say I have walked every distance in England other than trains and the cabs from the hotel to the garden.  And today? I'm extra proud as it involved my luggage from that circle area (literally down below the cliffs) coming all the way to my little nook in the sky.

White Cliffs of Lewes

Partway up the hike to the top of the white cliffs ... AWESOME view. Once we got up there, it was pastureland as far as we could see. I couldn't even see the river or road from where we were. Just green, green, green rolling hills (and cows ... and sheep)!  There's a little tiny dot of a castle over in the right hand side of the picture (ok where it would be if I could see it). That's where I'll be staying near for my last night in Lewes before returning for the launch party with Imogen Heap and Clear Village on Saturday.

Lingering lunches.
Random wafts of conversation.
Streams of light in an English tea room.
Fresh air and motorists.
These little moments may seem pedestrian but that's the beauty of it to me.
Today I will discover a bit more of what it is like to simply "be" in Gidea Park (Romford).

I wish you were here.
There's a low rumble of the organ;
The hum of tourists off in the distance.
Here, I am nestled in a corner of the prayer chapel at St. Paul's Cathedral ...
Feeling the cold stone pillar on one side
And warm wood to the other,
I'm cushioned in a respectful silence.
It is peaceful here.