Thursday, June 25, 2009
RIP Michael Jackson
Even before my NKOTB obsession or the embarrassing time when the Jon Bon Jovi hung on my bedroom wall, I loved Michael Jackson. I wore my Michael Jackson tee-shirt and would listen to The Girl is Mine over and over again. At my parent's shows, vendors would play the Thriller on loop all day, and I could just sit and watch for hours. I remember begging my sisters to take me to watch it. It scared the hell out of me (I was like 3!), but I still loved it. So, with the sad news of his death today, I thought that I would post this photo (my prized Christmas present) and just say that in whatever happens at death, I hope that some peace and happiness find him.
Bead and Wire... Otherwise Known as What Has Been Consuming My Mind Lately
I have needed a creative outlet lately. All of my old favorites haven't been cutting it lately, so I took some classes at my local JoAnn's: knitting, cake decorating, and jewelry making.
My grandmother taught me how to crochet. I enjoyed it, so I thought that I would love knitting. The class was a nightmare. I haven't been that frustrated with anything in a long time, and the teacher was so over me. Stupid yarn. Stupid needles. I eventually figured out the basic stitch and worked on a scarf, but it just wasn't for me. Here's a photo of my first sad, sad attempt (looks worse when you can pick it up and watch it fall apart!):
Next, I tried cake decorating, which I thought was going to be perfect for me. I love and have a knack for baking cookies. However, I didn't love baking the cakes, and huge pots of icing sitting around my house for days was REALLY not a good idea. I ate more icing than made it onto the cake. So, to save myself from grotesque extra weight, I dropped out of the class. My first cake (coconut with chocolate pudding center and buttercream frosting) went over well, but after all a couple of nights of work, it was disheartening to see it disappear in about 10 minutes. Next.
Finally, I tried a basic jewelry making class. I learned to make a simple bracelet with beads, wire, and a crimp bead. Very simple, but nice. I was completely hooked. Within a month, I had taken classes for necklaces, dangle earrings, and woven beads. My bead stash has grown exponentially, and every other day I have a new idea that requires more learning and different techniques. I love wire jewelry now, but I'm sure it will be something else next week. It is so challenging and fun, but it also relieves stress. I have been teaching my friend Danielle what I’ve learned so far and we've been making different things on our lunch hour. Maybe one of these days I'll even try posting some stuff on Etsy: http://www.dylanisaw.etsy.com/. Anyway, here's a bracelet that I made last week:
It has been exciting to have some new challenges. The creative side of my brain was getting too weak I am happiest when challenged to create and learn new things. I still really want to take a kick boxing class, so watch out.
My grandmother taught me how to crochet. I enjoyed it, so I thought that I would love knitting. The class was a nightmare. I haven't been that frustrated with anything in a long time, and the teacher was so over me. Stupid yarn. Stupid needles. I eventually figured out the basic stitch and worked on a scarf, but it just wasn't for me. Here's a photo of my first sad, sad attempt (looks worse when you can pick it up and watch it fall apart!):
Next, I tried cake decorating, which I thought was going to be perfect for me. I love and have a knack for baking cookies. However, I didn't love baking the cakes, and huge pots of icing sitting around my house for days was REALLY not a good idea. I ate more icing than made it onto the cake. So, to save myself from grotesque extra weight, I dropped out of the class. My first cake (coconut with chocolate pudding center and buttercream frosting) went over well, but after all a couple of nights of work, it was disheartening to see it disappear in about 10 minutes. Next.
Finally, I tried a basic jewelry making class. I learned to make a simple bracelet with beads, wire, and a crimp bead. Very simple, but nice. I was completely hooked. Within a month, I had taken classes for necklaces, dangle earrings, and woven beads. My bead stash has grown exponentially, and every other day I have a new idea that requires more learning and different techniques. I love wire jewelry now, but I'm sure it will be something else next week. It is so challenging and fun, but it also relieves stress. I have been teaching my friend Danielle what I’ve learned so far and we've been making different things on our lunch hour. Maybe one of these days I'll even try posting some stuff on Etsy: http://www.dylanisaw.etsy.com/. Anyway, here's a bracelet that I made last week:
Monday, June 22, 2009
Ze Balcony Garden - Week 2
I've made it a week and haven't lost any of my plants. My biggest concern is how I can water them without flooding out my neighbors below. So far, mostly successful. I also added a few more plants:
Used the rosemary in my weekly soup (Rosemary Scented Lentils and Sausage) and made a caprese salad with the basil. Home grown, fresh herbs are the best way to go.
Here's a photo of the progress after 1 week:
After hearing stories of my neighbor's cat falling off the balcony, I refuse to let the cats out. I get a lot of impatient faces at the window:
- German Chamomile around the base of my sunflower (now sprouting)
- Tomato Sprouts (from not eating my produce timely)
- Loose Leaf Lettuce
Used the rosemary in my weekly soup (Rosemary Scented Lentils and Sausage) and made a caprese salad with the basil. Home grown, fresh herbs are the best way to go.
Here's a photo of the progress after 1 week:
After hearing stories of my neighbor's cat falling off the balcony, I refuse to let the cats out. I get a lot of impatient faces at the window:
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Why I was hauling dirt up the stairs...
After a wonderful dream about my future, perfect house, I realized that I needed to learn how to garden. So, despite the fact that I only have a balcony, I went out and bought a bunch of containers, herbs, flowers, and vegetables.
I shopped at Lowe's and Home Depot for all the supplies. Overall, it was pretty inexpensive to start. This is what I currently have planted:
I shopped at Lowe's and Home Depot for all the supplies. Overall, it was pretty inexpensive to start. This is what I currently have planted:
- Marigolds
- Italian Parsley
- Sweet Basil
- Catnip
- Cilantro
- Lavender
- Mint
- German Thyme
- Rosemary
- Sunflower
I'm planning on taking photos of everything at different times so I can see the progress. I am so excited and hoping that I don't kill everything. Here's a photo just after planting:
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Amos Lee, Poppin' Epiphanies, and the Peace in Truth
Last Saturday night, I saw Amos Lee perform at the Capitol Theater in Clearwater. The Capitol is an old opera theater that's been closed for ages, so it has the quirks of something that has been around forever.
I hadn't listened to Amos Lee before and bought the tickets on a whim. The poster said something about him being the next Sam Cooke, so I was intrigued. Boy, do I love some Sam Cooke. Amos Lee doesn’t remind me of Sam Cooke at all. Not sure where exactly they got that from, but I went into the situation blind (well, more like deaf) and it was a perfect nights.
There was a lot of excitement because the theater was just reopened. Everyone was good natured, friendly, chatty, and really positive. Mutlu, the opening act, has a beautiful voice and a great setlist. He has an easy going stage presence and added just the right amount of laughs.
So, Amos and his band walked on stage, picked up instruments, and just start playing. I was crushing hard within 2 seconds of that curtain opening. They didn't strut around on stage, trying to get the crowd all hyped up because they didn't need it. The music spoke for itself.
In this age of "reality" television and the constant Dr Phil-like reaping of your soul, I'm always amazed when I get to just feel without someone telling me if it is right or wrong. The music was moody and expressive and when he sang, he was emotional, vulnerable, and honest. It was almost uncomfortable at first, like I was tapping into his private moments, but then it was so comforting. It's hard to explain, but I respect his ability to do that and be that way. I can't handle being in the room when someone reads my writing, so I can't imagine singing my heart out with my eyes closed out in front a room full of people. It is a gift to be able to just letting go, openly being who you are, and allowing the response to be whatever it is. It reminded me of all the things I keep meaning to but am too scared write. I wanted to close my eyes and get lost in the moment.
The response from the crowd was amazing. Everyone was in the moment and having the best time. Hearing the beauty that can come from heartbreak or knowing that there are people out there that just feel and share it without fear is a pretty cool thing.
The experience made me realize that something that is missing from my life. It's not a gorgeous man with an even more beautiful voice to sing me to sleep every night... although, that would be nice too. of it’s the freedom that comes from being emotionally honest and expressing it. I haven't been writing like I should, and now I know that I need to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and allow myself to be a little vulnerable again.
I've tried to figure out my response. What is it about a person, a book, a song, or whatever that affects so us deeply? Is it a remembrance, something we long to be, or some sort of mirror of our current or past selves? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's a combination of all of those things.
What I do understand is that these connections bring meaning and purpose to life. Maybe the stars were perfectly aligned, my meditations converged, or maybe it was just one of those right place at the right time kind of things, but it woke me up from a living sleep. I feel more aware not only of the world, but of myself again, and that in itself is a pretty powerful.
Anyway, check out Amos Lee's music if you haven't, because he's kinda wonderful.
I hadn't listened to Amos Lee before and bought the tickets on a whim. The poster said something about him being the next Sam Cooke, so I was intrigued. Boy, do I love some Sam Cooke. Amos Lee doesn’t remind me of Sam Cooke at all. Not sure where exactly they got that from, but I went into the situation blind (well, more like deaf) and it was a perfect nights.
There was a lot of excitement because the theater was just reopened. Everyone was good natured, friendly, chatty, and really positive. Mutlu, the opening act, has a beautiful voice and a great setlist. He has an easy going stage presence and added just the right amount of laughs.
So, Amos and his band walked on stage, picked up instruments, and just start playing. I was crushing hard within 2 seconds of that curtain opening. They didn't strut around on stage, trying to get the crowd all hyped up because they didn't need it. The music spoke for itself.
In this age of "reality" television and the constant Dr Phil-like reaping of your soul, I'm always amazed when I get to just feel without someone telling me if it is right or wrong. The music was moody and expressive and when he sang, he was emotional, vulnerable, and honest. It was almost uncomfortable at first, like I was tapping into his private moments, but then it was so comforting. It's hard to explain, but I respect his ability to do that and be that way. I can't handle being in the room when someone reads my writing, so I can't imagine singing my heart out with my eyes closed out in front a room full of people. It is a gift to be able to just letting go, openly being who you are, and allowing the response to be whatever it is. It reminded me of all the things I keep meaning to but am too scared write. I wanted to close my eyes and get lost in the moment.
The response from the crowd was amazing. Everyone was in the moment and having the best time. Hearing the beauty that can come from heartbreak or knowing that there are people out there that just feel and share it without fear is a pretty cool thing.
The experience made me realize that something that is missing from my life. It's not a gorgeous man with an even more beautiful voice to sing me to sleep every night... although, that would be nice too. of it’s the freedom that comes from being emotionally honest and expressing it. I haven't been writing like I should, and now I know that I need to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and allow myself to be a little vulnerable again.
I've tried to figure out my response. What is it about a person, a book, a song, or whatever that affects so us deeply? Is it a remembrance, something we long to be, or some sort of mirror of our current or past selves? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's a combination of all of those things.
What I do understand is that these connections bring meaning and purpose to life. Maybe the stars were perfectly aligned, my meditations converged, or maybe it was just one of those right place at the right time kind of things, but it woke me up from a living sleep. I feel more aware not only of the world, but of myself again, and that in itself is a pretty powerful.
Anyway, check out Amos Lee's music if you haven't, because he's kinda wonderful.
"...Some times we forget what we got
And who we are and who we are not
I think we got a chance to make it right
Keep it loose
Keep it tight
Keep it tight..."
Monday, January 19, 2009
With the New Year Upon Us...
19 days late - hip-hip-hooray and Happy New Year! The holidays were super relaxing, and I spent a lot of time enjoying the new 40 inch Sony Bravia (TV) and my new Roku player. Have I mentioned how rock n’roll that player is yet? Seriously, it is. Streaming content (Netflix) straight to my TV is genius. My current marathon involves watching every episode of Kate and Alley. That show is seriously cool. Jane Curtin makes me feel better about my own neuroses and datelessness.
2009 marks my final year in my 20s, and I refuse to head into my 30s overweight. So, it’s officially been 8 weeks since I decided to live a healthier, cleaner lifestyle, and I am proud to say that it is so working. I’ve lost 8 pounds and feel fantastic. I’m eating clean and exercising 30 minutes a day. Some days I am tired or want to eat a cake, but I power through. Dropping a pants size is much more rewarding than a cookie. Part of what has helped me is Write Yourself Right Sized by Julia Cameron. It makes me want to jump back on for another round of The Artist’s Way.
Other than this, life is tame right. I’m trying to get back into the routine of non-Holiday life. In just a few weeks, we’ll be heading into perfect weather season down here, and I’ll be living spring break for a few months: sunshine, blue skies, the beach, and my lunch hours in the sun at Starbucks.
2009 marks my final year in my 20s, and I refuse to head into my 30s overweight. So, it’s officially been 8 weeks since I decided to live a healthier, cleaner lifestyle, and I am proud to say that it is so working. I’ve lost 8 pounds and feel fantastic. I’m eating clean and exercising 30 minutes a day. Some days I am tired or want to eat a cake, but I power through. Dropping a pants size is much more rewarding than a cookie. Part of what has helped me is Write Yourself Right Sized by Julia Cameron. It makes me want to jump back on for another round of The Artist’s Way.
Other than this, life is tame right. I’m trying to get back into the routine of non-Holiday life. In just a few weeks, we’ll be heading into perfect weather season down here, and I’ll be living spring break for a few months: sunshine, blue skies, the beach, and my lunch hours in the sun at Starbucks.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Mexican Border Rocks
While digging through the volumes of binders in my closet this morning, I came across an old writing assignment from college. I was supposed to listen to a random conversation and then add a story to it. I picked a conversation with a friend and wrote something that has stuck with me all these years.
I've always felt like it had the best story potential, but I could never get it right on paper. Seeing it made me happy, so I decided to share it. It has a beauty to it that I find difficult to explain. The truth isn't camouflaged very well, so I hope that if he ever sees this, he isn't too mad.
We’re at Denny's. Michael stares into his cup of coffee and strands of his curly hair fall into his eyes. He pushes it back in a slow, non-thinking gesture. He left five months before, in January, on a cross-country trip to Oregon. He packed a small U-Haul with his few possessions and started a new life.
He shows me postcards and pictures from the road. He has a jar with the melted water of the first snow he ever touched and pictures of the view out of the window of his new apartment. With a red-faced grin, he pushes a picture toward me. It is a photo of him leaning against a wall at the Alamo in a cowboy hat.
"Where did you get the hat?" I ask.
"I bought it at a rest stop in Texas."
We laugh. He looks back down at his coffee and stirs it with his spoon.
"Do anything else in Texas?"
"I threw a rock into Mexico."
I can imagine him in the sweaty Texas air. It is not quite dark and the sunset shades the desert in purple and dark blue. He pulls his truck with the U-Haul off the side of the desert highway. He picks up the cowboy hat off of the seat beside him and gets out of the truck. The ground is littered with rocks, so he kicks around some of the dirt, searching for the perfect rock, the rock that has his name interwoven into its deep grooves. Cars rush by on the highway with their lights on. The sons and daughters of the drivers press their faces to the glass. They watch the city boy in the ripped jeans and faded music school tee shirt. He crouches down and the cowboy hate sits awkwardly on his head. When he finds a rock, he holds it in his hand, studying it in case he ever decides he wants it back, and then chucks it as far over the border as he can. He watches it land, and when he decides that it is safely on the other side, he returns to his car, puts the hat back beside him on the seat and drives on.
I've always felt like it had the best story potential, but I could never get it right on paper. Seeing it made me happy, so I decided to share it. It has a beauty to it that I find difficult to explain. The truth isn't camouflaged very well, so I hope that if he ever sees this, he isn't too mad.
We’re at Denny's. Michael stares into his cup of coffee and strands of his curly hair fall into his eyes. He pushes it back in a slow, non-thinking gesture. He left five months before, in January, on a cross-country trip to Oregon. He packed a small U-Haul with his few possessions and started a new life.
He shows me postcards and pictures from the road. He has a jar with the melted water of the first snow he ever touched and pictures of the view out of the window of his new apartment. With a red-faced grin, he pushes a picture toward me. It is a photo of him leaning against a wall at the Alamo in a cowboy hat.
"Where did you get the hat?" I ask.
"I bought it at a rest stop in Texas."
We laugh. He looks back down at his coffee and stirs it with his spoon.
"Do anything else in Texas?"
"I threw a rock into Mexico."
I can imagine him in the sweaty Texas air. It is not quite dark and the sunset shades the desert in purple and dark blue. He pulls his truck with the U-Haul off the side of the desert highway. He picks up the cowboy hat off of the seat beside him and gets out of the truck. The ground is littered with rocks, so he kicks around some of the dirt, searching for the perfect rock, the rock that has his name interwoven into its deep grooves. Cars rush by on the highway with their lights on. The sons and daughters of the drivers press their faces to the glass. They watch the city boy in the ripped jeans and faded music school tee shirt. He crouches down and the cowboy hate sits awkwardly on his head. When he finds a rock, he holds it in his hand, studying it in case he ever decides he wants it back, and then chucks it as far over the border as he can. He watches it land, and when he decides that it is safely on the other side, he returns to his car, puts the hat back beside him on the seat and drives on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)