3rd House Journal

Hello (waving) - I'm still here

[Sermoneta glove store, Newbury St, Boston; 1/29/12]

[Yes, I know they're not waving but giving the back of the hand, so squint.]

After the first of my two days off (see last post) I promptly came down with a head cold and spent the second day not doing any of the planned cleaning and organizing. Nor, of course, was the weekend productive nor the following week, aside from required project work. Such is life. D and I are contemplating a winter vacation somewhere warm, having not managed a vacation at all last summer due to health issues for one or the other of us. I will not say more out of well-founded superstition, and will purchase travel insurance in spades if we decide to do this.

Meanwhile, being born in a Chinese astrology Dog year (actually, both D and I are Dogs, he a Fire Dog and me an Earth Dog), I am hoping that every dog does indeed have his day...

[Robert Deyber painting, Martin Lawrence Gallery, Newbury St, Boston; 1/28/12]

While I'm thinking of it, I'd like to thank Fiona Robyn for setting up the January River of Stones challenge. I didn't manage a small stone every single day, but pretty close to it (see my Twitter feed, where I posted them). Those small stones were often like happy pills, a wage slave's little helper. If you haven't tried it yet, do! They're 100% healthy, I promise!

What I Did on My Day Off

[Dried hydrangea, Belmont MA; 1/19/12]

I did not get around to cleaning the house, athough I did spend the morning balancing my checkbook, paying bills, and other online odds and ends. Maybe I'll get to the house cleaning tomorrow. It really could use some feng shui-improving clutter clearing and cleaning.

I took a short drive over to Habitat Wildlife Sanctuary, a sanctuary for my soul ever since starting my job 5 1/2 years ago, even before I moved here. I haven't been there much lately. Climbing the steep hill up from town during my lunch breaks was too much for my back this summer, and work demands got in the way this fall, so I opted for shorter, flatter walks in the pretty residential neighborhoods near the office. But with the day free, the woods and meadows called to me.

[Reeds, off the Highland Farm Loop]

While I did not want to waste my two precious days off from work spinning my wheels and accomplishing nothing, neither did I want to fill it up with chores and tasks. I wanted to recapture a bit of that relaxed freedom I used to feel when I worked from home and could choose how to spend the hours of my day. So I set no specific schedule, other than to get outside while the sun was still what counts for high in January in these northern parts. On the way back, I stopped at the grocery store and shopped, as I used to, among the elderly and the housewives with young kids instead of the harried after-work crowd. And I came home and puttered in my kitchen.

[Cone on a string, on the Red Maple Trail]

You can see a few more of my pics from today's visit to Habitat here.

I'm still trying to keep up with this month of Small Stones. This afternoon's tweet:

Day off. House no cleaner, but I saw the klatsch of paper birches at the edge of the meadow, their graceful ghostly limbs.

 

A Spot of Color

[Provincetown Harbor; 8/16/09]

Still no snow here. Yesterday's rain took even the blue from the sky, leaving everything dull as dishwater. Today is even gloomier with fog. At breakfast yesterday, while taking in the grayscale through my windows, one glowing spot of orange slid across the scene -- my neighbor's bright orange raincoat, a little drop of sunshine, dose of vitamin C.

The photo above is not devoid of color, but that one dropperful of red stands out against the field of blue in a similar fashion. It is the photo I used for the month of January in this year's calendar I made for friends and family. Facing another colorless day, it will have to serve. Tomorrow the blue skies will return (mostly) even as the heat is taken away and we drop to frigid temperatures. Fair enough.

Artistic (Double) Vision

[Reflected view of the Andrew Greaney Gallery, Boston; 1/7/12]

The Anthony Greaney Gallery is located in SoWa in Boston.

Beige

[Dry flower heads, Belmont; 12/5/12]

This winter, beige is the new white. That thought occurred to me while looking at Lorianne's post noting the rustle of dry leaves instead of the crunch of snow. She and a few others of my blogger friends are contributing "small stones" to Fiona Robyn's mindful writing challenge for January. I'm also writing them most days, but I'm posting them to my Twitter account instead of here (you can see them on the Twitter Updates feed just to the right of my blog posts). It's a wonderful exercise to open up your senses, notice something, and write it down. Even on days when the world seems kinda bland, maybe even more so on those days, you find the most extraordinary in the ordinary.

Dehiscence

[Dried flower or seed pod (?), Belmont, MA; 1/5/12]

Dehiscence is the opening, at maturity, in a predefined way, of a plant structure, most commonly fruits, anthers, and sporangia, to release its contents... A similar process to dehiscence occurs in some flower buds.

The years living and working from my condo in the country were quiet, especially so when work slowed down and my clients were laid off and scattered to the winds. But it was a germinating time. The work that did come in gave me knowledge and experience that turned out to be valuable in the long run. It led to a full-time position, a move near the city with all of its cultural riches, a more active social life, and my relationship with D. The change has been all for the good, but I'm still sifting through the harvest to weed out the excess and retain the valuable fruit.

I had lunch this week with a former colleague who mentored me through career growth in the distant past. He's survived the past few years of layoffs and unemployment and job changes, and he was kind enough to share his observations and advice. It was a real boost, just what I need right now as I look to make my next transition. Still, the amount of work yet to be done is daunting. Would that I could have a retreat to work through the transition process instead of continuing to work full-time while undertaking a job search. It's like the trees I saw this warm fall and winter putting out new buds while their foliage was still turning and dropping. Sometimes life is just spilling over.

If Wishes Were Horses

["Horsechild" celebrating the New Year at Axelle, Boston; 1/1/12]

We've seen Beth Carter's odd creatures in the Axelle gallery on Newbury Street a number of times. Minotaurs and animal-headed people, they seem to materialize out of fairy tales, somewhere between whimsical and creepy. You get the feeling they're calling to their brethren inside your unconscious, ready to romp about in your dreams. Or maybe that's just me. I found an interesting interview with the UK artist here, which ends with the intriguing revelation that "Every time I cast a new piece of sculpture, I put a secret message or a drawing inside. A kind of offering or a charm or a wish." I think she is trying to get inside your head.

Over the Horizon

["The Long Count" ice sculpture, Boston; 12/31/11]

We made it slightly late to First Night Boston's Grand Procession down Boylston Street last night. The procession is a family affair and starts at 5:30pm. We'd gone out a little early to have a celebratory glass of bubbly and found two open seats at one of the bars on Boylston. Service slowed as a crowd made its way in, so it took us longer to get back out on the street than expected. But we were able to watch through the bar's plate glass windows as the processioners began to make their way past, including some dragons created for the upcoming Chinese New Year, which will usher in the Year of the Dragon. We followed the procession up to the Boston Common, arriving just in time for the early evening fireworks.

[First Night Boston fireworks display]

The official theme of this year's Grand Procession was "Over the Horizon" and the big 2012 ice sculpture in Copley Square was titled "The Long Count," a reference to the calendar system used by the ancient Mayans. Of course as everyone has heard, 2012 is the year the Mayan calendar ends, specifically December 21, 2012 (ie, the winter solstice), and some have interpreted this to mean the end of the world. I've never taken that the least bit seriously and haven't delved into the history nor the hype, but some sources say that date is just the end of one cycle and beginning of the next. At any rate, many processioners and ice sculptors had fun with the Mayan theme.

[Mayan theme ice sculpture, Copley Square, Boston; 1/1/12]

None of us can see over the horizon. Most of us try at one point or another, stating our intentions and pinning our hopes on a future outcome that we work towards, whether to lose weight or complete a degree, win a race or purchase a dream home. We may enlist the help of sophisticated predictive analytical tools, action plans, prayers, stars, cards, or crystal balls. But time always unspools in its own mysterious, unexpected way.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year. May unexpected joy await you.