GlynisDaily.com

Signs of Life

2010-02-17T05:46:00Z

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

“New beginnings.” Isn’t that redundant? Because of the new moon over the weekend, someone kept talking about “new beginnings,” and it was bugging me. Beginnings by their nature are always new, aren’t they? “Old” beginnings would be “in progress,” wouldn’t they? I suddenly sound like Andy Rooney. Anyway, spring is arriving on the coast, and this moon in particular is about starting over.

This is good for me. I’m sort of settled in my new space—as settled as one might be, knowing it’s only for a few weeks—and I am thankful for the “hermitage” here. Even during the past two whirlwind weeks, I feel a change within. The frenzy is over; my senses are returning. I am able to be more contemplative, creative and open to what the Universe is presenting. I am out of the raging river current and returning to the Flow, preparing to go where it takes me.

Much activity has happened in this quiet little room. These past few days I have been thinking about the web. Not really the internet, though that plays into almost everything nowadays. I’m thinking about the web of our interconnected lives.

My last entry alluded to my disappointment with little feeling of connection here, even after six years. Others now have echoed their own feelings of “shallow roots” and the un-reality of this coast culture. Then, a friend from Rochester emailed just the right thing at the right time, as usual. There is still that thread (and a few others) connecting me there. Family ties are pulling me toward the Midwest. The realization that I still FEEL connections is actually reassuring.

Sadly, there have been four deaths affecting friends in these past two weeks, also. Two of these families know each other, but only one of them is in Cannon Beach. The third is here, but doesn’t know the others. The fourth was a death of a dear family friend (my own family.) I’ve thought about my life intertwining with these people and their families and friends, at different times, in different ways. This is how the web is formed, threads stretching—and sometimes breaking—between each other. And, as the new moon waxes toward the full, my friends, also, will be rebuilding and re-starting after illness, tragedy and loss.

But I see small lambs in the pasture near Warrenton. Little plants push themselves through, seeking light, and so do we. Last year was a Lesson; this year is wide open. There are some signs of life after all.

A New View

2010-02-09T06:08:00Z

Monday, February 8, 2010

I have moved. I'm still in CB for the moment, but many people are encouraging me to "get while the getting's good."   Events and experiences of the past two years have taken their tolls, and I am spent. What do I always say? "It's only temporary." "The only constant is change." Yadda, yadda.

In previous tough times I've been able to latch onto something---job opportunities, my little house, some savings. This is different, for there are none of those things now. I'm in this bewildered state most of the time when I'm not panicking or taking deep breaths. So many things are pulling at me simultaneously.

The weather is perfect here--we have daffodils out already--and the ocean is a force like nothing I can describe. Beyond Mother Nature, however, I've found little depth and substance here after six years. Maybe that is what has finally sapped my energy, gone with the tourists. Friends are struggling; businesses are struggling; everyone is grasping for something to keep them above water.

Back east, my parents are aging, and it's my turn to step up and help them. There are also paying jobs in the east, believe it or not.  Columbus and Pittsburgh are under more than two feet of snow right now. Aye, there's the rub.

I know that I'm smarter than my decisions in 2008-09 make me appear. And yet, here I am, shaking my head, reeling, and, yes, bewildered, Starting over this year was not in the plan. It is now. As are releasing, reworking and repacking. I have to be very careful now to hone in on what I feel is right for me, rather than what others--albeit with good intentions--think is best.

So, the view here is different at the end of my new street.

Here We Go Again

2010-01-19T04:49:00Z

Monday, January 18, 2010

One year ending, another year beginning. January---and another birthday (when this photo was taken--sigh)   I hear the high surf now while we await the next storm arriving tonight. This is about reflection as I move out of my apartment of five + years, purging several years of files and books and magazines and linens and clothes and assorted other doo-dads.

Now is an appropriate time to push myself into "monk mode."   The planets are promising for 2010--Pluto secure in Capricorn, Mars out of retrograde in March and, I believe, Jupiter is entering Pisces.  My new (temporary) apartment is about one-quarter to one-third of my present space, so there is no room for three sets of sheets (or my bed, for that matter.)  Selling furniture, donating art supplies and consolidating file boxes is all part of the process of wheedling down, simplifiying and releasing the "old ways."   I'm finding myself both ruthless and gentle as I touch everything. What memory is attached to this? How many pens does one really need? These cards from Christmases past can go, but this one from my grandfather stays. Let go of Cassy's doggie toys and bed, but keep her collar and tags.

Friend Jodi said in her practical way, "Just pick out the things that mean the most, and take whatever will fit in your truck." Yes, I know that's the best, most freeing way to do this. The reality is that I have boxes of photo files, books and things that I actually use--unfortunately, probably more than will fit in the back of my SUV.

I've tried playing mind games: "I'm going on an extended camping trip. What do I need to take?"   Then I think, "If I'm on a camping trip, I would still come home to my books." Hmmm. I am still attached, but this is good practice.  In the coming weeks, after my apartment move, I'll continue to pare down even more.  Not knowing where I'll be this time next year is both scary and exciting, but I haven't been able to really find comfort here yet. Seems like I'm always searching. In cutting away the brush, I'm hoping to reveal the path.

Winter

2009-12-27T05:55:00Z

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Ah, winter. Much of life is interior now. Darkness arrives, and the few people who do live here tuck themselves in. Weather-wise we've been fortunate on the coast--only one week of stormy weather so far, and that in November. Otherwise there are lamentations. And not just the usual complaints about business being slow and there being fewer visitors (heads in beds at hotels, ) but about this being the worst economic winter in decades and the stories of no reservations/check-ins for days and restaurants serving only one table an evening. A winter of discontent.

I've opened Wild Vines, and the going has been slower than I could have imagined--not that I didn't realize November is a bad time to start off. But here I am, in the most dismal winter on record with a new endeavor along with a series of other results and decisions facing me, that this difficult year has precipitated. I go within.

Two-thousand nine is now yet another Lesson in listening to my inner voice instead of others' voices--as well-meaning as many may be. I have gotten away from myself and had the sensation a few weeks ago of being carried down a rushing river current toward a waterfall, not being able to grab onto a branch, even for a few seconds. Time is passing, and I am well past the point of catching up when spinning about like a pinball creates a detour or setback on My Path. Pluto is now in Capricorn bringing transformation of some degree to everyone. Retrogrades here, eclipses coming---time for slowing down, reflection, solitude, thorough consideration. I need to process pain, find the inner compass, get a feel for the next direction of this journey. In fact, my dream last night---not disturbing or a nightmare for a change---was about looking at who I am, remembering who I am inside and "following my signs."

Last week I had to go to Portland, and of course it was the day after it snowed. Friend Nadine and I started half an hour later to allow the temps to rise in the hills. The sun was cutting through the very mist it was creating. When I got out of the car, the air was quiet, smelling of cold evergreens. I wanted to trudge into the woods, into the blanket of a silent forest and disappear in solitude.

Storms and Weather

2009-11-06T08:38:00Z

Friday, November 6, 2009

It really is Friday. I am supposed to open the wine bar, Wild Vines, in about 13 hours. I have been working since 8 am and am tired. Each part of my body has a painful story to tell: cuts from measuring tapes, a headache from the storm system barrelling at the coast, a backache from opening a 12 foot sliding door yesterday, a wicked knot in my neck that I don't want to think about. I've been sitting in glass and sawdust. I've been stapling fabric and staining table legs and trim. I haven't eaten since 10:30 Thursday morning.

This is the Big One, what I've been looking forward to, and yet I'm sitting here surrounded by twinkle lights and aching and worrying and knowing that there is so much more to do. I don't feel ready. The space just became available on Sunday, so I've worked non-stop all week to try to make it presentable. It is the space next to Sweet Basil's Cafe, which is a good thing. On the other hand, everything that could possibly go wrong or awry has done so for several weeks. I can only liken it to climbing uphill backwards, against the wind, through the snow with your shoes on the wrong feet. And yet I press on.

This is Stormy Weather weekend, one of two huge arts fests for Cannon Beach. I haven't done a show at all. The Chamber of Commerce asked me to submit a photo for their silent auction tonight, which I did and which I appreciate. Winds have been gusting over 60 mph today with rain and lightning and thunder--completely appropriate. My internal storms are just as forceful right now.

Aside from all of the trauma of getting this business together, my mother is not well, and it is certainly upsetting my father. I can't get back there to help them. My friends are losing hours or jobs. I haven't had nearly enough work to keep going, either. My dreams offer little rest with their tsunamis and guns and injured dogs and revisiting past experiences and boyfriends. Maybe it's just an over-active mind or the aches and pains or the Benedryl to knock me out. Maybe I'll feel better in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, I need to get home and take a shower. I have to drive to Portland and back in the morning. If you are in CB this weekend (or beyond,) please stop in to say hello and have a glass of really great Pinot.

(Sorry--no photo tonight. I have dozens in my camera that I haven't downloaded. Sheesh.)

Digital 101 Class

2009-10-12T02:26:00Z

Thought I would post this while I was thinking about it.

I'm teaching my Digital Photo 101 class next Saturday, October 17th at the Tolovana Hall on South Hemlock (next to the Children's Center.)
It's a two-hour workshop that begins with camera basics and moves on to help students get to know their digital cameras and take better photos. I've gotten very good reviews from students in the past. This is not a "tech-y" class, but there is a lot of hands-on instruction and as much one-on-one attention as possible.

The workshop will begin at 11:00 am, end around 1:00 pm and is $35.00 per person. It's sponsored by the Tolovana Arts Colony. Students should bring their cameras and instruction books, if possible. If you or someone you know is interested in attending, contact me to register via this site's "Comments."

Thanks much! GAV

Fall-ing

2009-10-11T03:45:00Z

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Do you believe it? The crisp, cool days of fall are here. I am still on the go--photo shoots and pet sitting. I was gone last weekend, Thursday, and I am now pet sitting until Wednesday.

In the meantime, it looks like the wine bar will be open in a month, ready or not. More details to come---there are some good things and not-as-good things, as there are with all ventures. I have A LOT of work to do. For instance, friends and I will have breakfast tomorrow morning and then pick up the main part of the bar-to-be in their truck. I'll add legs and refinish it. I'm in the current now and will be going over the falls soon.

At least all of this traveling around has allowed me to see some of the seasonal changes, if not to photograph them. Since much of the foliage on the coast is evergreen, there isn't terribly much color as in New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania. But there are some colors in the hills and pumpkins and squash at the farm stands. There has been little rain here, so the skies have been deep blue and the morning and late day light golden.

Autumn seems like such a short season--one month, really. Summer extends into September, and I've seen snow fly by Halloween. I have such fond memories of this season with its fresh air and sweaters and comfort food and, of course, the first of the Charlie Brown trilogy, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Today, in this pooch's (Zeke's) backyard, cones and moss and peanut shells (?!) are falling from the tall, tall evergreens--signs of a gentler season before downed twigs, branches and power lines announce the arrival of winter.

Have Coffee, Will Travel

2009-09-16T03:26:00Z

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

This photo, taken in Lincoln City---another Oregon beach town---last week, has been the most peaceful moment I've had in awhile. Granted, when I was pet sitting at Tom and Marga's I did zone out on my first Sunday. When was that again?

Amid putting the wine bar together (opening soon,) working at the restaurant, shooting for the Fall/Winter issue of the magazine, pet sitting, and various committees, I've spent about six nights in my own bed over the past 3 1/2 weeks. This ocean front balcony took me away for a few moments as if I were actually on vacation. I may make this my screensaver or wallpaper to remind me to breathe.

I should post a photo of a coffee mug, instead, to energize me! I'm afraid the 3:00 Tab is no longer enough to get me through this schedule. Coffee in the morning has become a necessary evil as my foggy little peepers try to focus, and my groggy little grey cells distinguish the daily To Do lists and locations from the fragments of dreams gone wild. I've now re-started the yoga three days/week to make the morning transition easier. Oh well.

All the pets have "helped" me start my days a bit earlier, which is actually a good thing (notice I'm not posting this at midnight.) And, truly, I'm happy and grateful to have work and be so busy in the face of the dismal headlines. But, I guess once in awhile, it is good to stop, pet the pooches (or kitty,) take in some sunshine and fresh air, and let the waves drown out the chatter, the lists, the buzz of the coffee.

Relax, Rewind

2009-08-26T04:40:00Z

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

I am at Tom and Marga's, pet and house sitting for a couple of weeks. I needed to get away from my noisy house, from Cannon Beach, from the frustration and mind clutter and that has taken its toll this year. If you check this site often enough, you've seen snippets of T & M's cool house up above Astoria's Uniontown overlooking the Columbia River.

The first day Kitty-poo and I got reacquainted and settled in. The next day I vegged. REALLY vegged. As in reading the newspaper, doing the word search puzzle, finishing a book and napping all with movies playing in the background. In between these activities, I stared out the windows at passing tides, clouds and sail boats. I need this different perspective right now.

Stress makes me forget some things and long for others. It muddles my mind as I try to see the big picture and find the pieces. It makes me forget why I came here as I struggle with seemingly daily fires and delays.   Stress makes me long for my little house in Rochester with its garden and hardwoods and a living room where I could do yoga without moving furniture.

It's good that I'm up here this week, taking care of the Princess and cleaning my slate.  I have to re-set some priorities, re-vamp some plans, re-visit some healthier habits, recharge some good energy.   So many pieces to put together.

Silver Linings

2009-08-15T04:45:00Z

Friday, August 14, 2009

This is tonight's sunset. I really liked the blue sky peeking through and the sun backlighting the whole works. It wasn't colorful, but there seemed to be a lot going on. Ah, the metaphor.

Life right now is a mixed bag and Forrest Gump's box of chocolates. Tuesday is Wild Vines' first official event: a wine tasting at Sweet Basil's Cafe using products from the CB Farmers Market. I did two of these last year at Spirited which were really fun. I hope this goes well. A few months ago I mentioned (here) that a friend was going to begin chemo treatements. She recently passed away, and tomorrow is her memorial celebration. I've had a "roomie" this week, the 16 year old daughter of friends with a condo around the corner. She's adorable, and we've coexisted well.  Three of us went out to Tora Sushi the other night in the pouring rain. We're beginning on the Fall/Winter issue of the magazine. My mother is ill again. I've bought the glassware, plates, fabric, folding tables and candle holders to set the stage for the wine bar atmosphere.

Sorting through all of this and more simultaneously, hmm. Take in all of it, but focus on moving forward and being positive. No wonder I'm not sleeping well and am forgetting to eat. After  this coming week, I'll be able to step aside and look at all of this and move to the next steps. I'll be pet/house sitting at friends', Tom and Marga's, in Astoria; a change of scene will be a good thing. I'll try to photograph Kitty-poo, most likely scowling at me.

In reading this over, I realize it looks and sounds a bit fragmented and stream of consciousness. Short bursts of info and activities, mists and bright spots whirling around me.   Stay focussed, and look for the silver linings.

Step Away from the Camera

2009-08-05T06:36:00Z

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

"Last entry 28 days ago." Sheesh. So sorry. But it's all for the greater good, and it's not like I really did "stop" shooting. I've been freelancing and doing photos here and there over the past month. The new Coast Food magazine is out and looks really nice. Check your local restaurants on the coast from Newport north to the Long Beach Penninsula. I'm rambling.

The news is that I'm putting the final touches on my new business, Wild Vines. On August 18, in two weeks, I'll be holding a Market happy hour at Sweet Basil's Cafe in downtown Cannon Beach. I'm putting a website together, and you can follow "wildvinescb" on Twitter. This will be fun. As I work on a couple of preliminary events, the next step will be a wine bar, and, eventually, a wine bar and gallery.  That is the current plan, and it could always change, but at least something is finally coming together, albeit in baby steps and inches.

I have been shooting (see www.cannonbeacharts.org and click on the Flickr stream for Art Camp), as I said, and may post some of the more interesting images in another entry. Today I was working at the CB Farmers Market with John Sowa from Sweet Basil's, and got to buzz through some of the booths before the opening bell sounded. Well, you can guess what that meant---colors, textures, a photo feast. I had almost left my camera in the car, thinking, "People are TIRED of seeing vegetables on my site."   Then, I said to myself, "Just take the camera. If you see something, you may be able to use it for the magazine or cards or whatever."

Well, here we are. Some really snazzy veggies presented themselves (since it's August already): purple peppers and patapans, heirloom beans and tomatoes.   Do remember that vegetables are good for you, and I hope you find these far from boring. In the meantime, as I begin a new year of this blog (the fourth?!) my Resolution will be to exercise my creative legs and find a more balanced photo diet.

11th Street Colors

2009-07-08T02:51:00Z

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

I did not go to the CB July 4th Parade, so I'm sorry about missing the photos. I had intended to go, but I wasn't up to it on Saturday. Much better now.

I should have glynisart.com back up soon--new and improved. Speaking of new, I am working on the new biz, which has taken about three months longer than expected. It's okay now, though. I'm finally getting excited about beginning this new stage. I'll be putting together a new website for it and have signed up for a Twitter account (you can follow "wildvinescb.")

That's why I was in Astoria today. I purchased a piece of furniture for the new place and needed to get a contact for another piece. While I was there, I noticed a lot of color--probably sunlight enhanced--and thought I would take a few street shots. I think I had color on the brain, too, because the tech guy from GoDaddy (Tom), who was helping me with the new website this morning, sent me a photo from his recent Italy vacation when he saw the photos on this blog. It was a cool shot of buildings layered on an Italian hillside along the Mediterranean. Oranges, yellows, pinks, wrought iron balconies---the scene made me think of 60's movies with Gina Lolabrigida or Sophia Loren or Cary Grant or Sean Connery, big sunglasses, big hats, intrigue, yachts. But I digress. There is little of that in Astoria, but the Columbian Cafe IS located in the Riviera Building. . .

Good Enough to Eat

2009-06-22T07:57:00Z

Monday, June 22, 2009

I really like photographing food, as if you didn't know. I learned a lot about it when I worked for a commercial studio in Rochester. Cakes and ice creams and beverages, for instance, that you see in magazines and catalogs and on packaging are not always the real things. The studio is a sort of sterile, staged atmosphere that never really appealed to "photographer" me. I have been shooting, however, real prepared food dishes for the magazine, which should be out in a couple of weeks.

And these are definitely real--as real as it gets--organic, heirloom and fresh. It's time for the Cannon Beach Farmers Market, every Tuesday from 2 to 6 pm, now until October. There is something about these homegrown textures and colors that I find irresistible. As I look closer, the details pull me in--delicate fronds of fennel, hair-like roots, recurring patterns and subtle plays of light . . .

But I have to curb my enthusiasm and pace myself--this is only the first week.

Breaking Through

2009-06-18T06:18:00Z

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I had a photo shoot tonight in Wheeler, south of CB about 20 miles. It happened to be the only dry pocket of weather all the way down--which was good, because my shoot was on the outside deck of a restaurant. Anyway, as I was passing Arcadia Beach on my way home, the sun found an opening in the clouds and created a misty, foggy sort of sunset. I turned around so I could share this view with those who were socked in in other places.

(The CB Farmers Market began yesterday. Everyone is happy. Photos coming!)

Bodies of Work

2009-06-16T06:04:00Z

Monday, June 15, 2009

There were lots of bodies on the beach Saturday for the annual Sandcastle Day, and it was the best since I've been here. True to form, it was overcast and a bit windy, but thousands of people showed up to play, admire, walk and sculpt on the beach. The CB Chamber of Commerce did a really wonderful job of organizing and promoting. Buckets of fun!

And here's the gang at EVOO Cooking School, who couldn't make it out to the beach, but made castles nonetheless...

Our Town

2009-06-11T05:13:00Z

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

I was going to shoot in Rockaway today, but, when I drove down there, it was overcast and on the verge of rain. The light was flat and didn't inspire me to take colorful beach shacks. Some other day.

So I took my camera to the Town Photo event on the beach tonight. What fun! Around 300 people showed up---not every person in town, but a nice representation. Photographer George Vetter did a great job of organizing it and promoting it, and all of us lined up with our ID numbers. It was scheduled in conjunction with and to kick off Cannon Beach's annual Sandcastle weekend. George will no doubt have the Town Photo posted on www.cannon-beach.net within a couple of days. Locals designed and spent today sculpting a large Gulliver on the sand, which, hopefully, will remain intact until at least Friday.

What is clearly intact is community spirit. The mayor, the city manager, the fire department, hotel managers and owners, gallery owners, artists, the newspaper publisher and reporters and a healthy assortment of residents, kids and dogs laughed our way through what seemed like a big family reunion portrait. I'm writing a magazine article and have had the good fortune to be interviewing some local artists. One artist mentioned that the community support in CB inspires her and said that her experience hasn't been as much the "kindness" of strangers, but rather the "remarkable encounters" with strangers. It's what makes Cannon Beach, Cannon Beach.

Thank you to those who have been working to make Sandcastle Weekend a success, including this partial list: George Vetter/ George Vetter Fotoart, Debbie Nelson/Basket Case, Wendy Higgins/Ocean Lodge, Tracy Abel/Abel Management, Coaster Construction and Jim McDonald/Tolovana Inn. And. if you are in or near our community on Saturday, come down to the beach and see over 40 teams (including three Masters teams) crafting sandcastles. There are events downtown during the afternoon. And--a reminder--gather grandma, the kids and the dog for the ultimate coastal/artsy/Americana experience: the annual CB 4th of July parade is coming right up...

Labors and Fruits

2009-06-07T07:15:00Z

Sunday, June 7, 2009

I have been visiting farms that will be selling at the CB Farmers Market. Not everyone is cut out to be an accountant or a doctor or a personnel manager or a mechanic, but many of these farmers are all of those in addition to rising at 4 am to pick crops, driving to markets three to fours days a week, setting up, selling and driving home to their families.  At the mercy of Mother Nature's minions--coyotes, bugs, floods, et al---experience teaches them to start some plants in greenhouses, not to plant before the first week of June, place sun-warmed jugs of water along the rows at night, keep large dogs with the herds and surround the fields with dikes.

Farming seems like the long means to an end, but there is a sense of pride in all of them as they lead the way into greenhouses and barns and planted fields. Where does the satisfaction lie? Is it the fresh air?  Owning a business?  Working from home? A family history?  A cheese maker commutes three hours to Seattle four days a week to his other job at a non-profit agency. He muses, "The first year's goal was to keep the sheep alive. The second year's goal was to make cheese. The third year's goal is to keep the sheep alive AND make cheese." Another farmer's father told me that his mother's family arrived in their part of the upper Willamette Valley in the 1850's--by covered wagon from Virginia. They lived on boiled wheat until they could get the crops in. He built his house in 1961 within view of his grandparents' farmhouse.

Maybe it is in our genetic code, our bodies being full of minerals found in the earth and drawn to fresh, pure food. And, really, who wouldn't rather wake regularly to a distant cow bell and the sweet smell of dew instead of bus exhaust and garbage trucks lifting dumpsters? With these visit connections I've developed a greater appreciation for and interest in not farming, but farmers. In their tanned faces and dusty jeans I see my grandfather popping a green bean into his mouth as he paced the rows, his dog, Spot, shuffling along behind him.

Catching Up

2009-06-01T08:02:00Z

Monday, June 1, 2009

June already---is the year really nearly half over? Yes. Seemingly the only thing progressing is Time as it plows through the weeks. Many years ago a close friend of mine passed away, and, with his passing I learned a lesson that haunts me: make time to spend with your friends.

One would think that as a freelancer (currently) I would make my own schedule, pooh pooh the time clock, and put all of the weekly ducks in a row. This is a myth. Things come up, and, actually, as a freelancer, I am at the mercy of the work---take it when it comes. During the past week I was supposed to have dinner with friends I haven't seen in three months. I had two photo shoots scheduled that day, and then another was added at the last minute, which I didn't finish until well after 7:00 pm (an hour after our dinner.) I'm still feeling the guilt. In addition, I had to reschedule a hair appointment to the middle of June when a meeting was rescheduled from Tuesday to Wednesday.

Now---and this should be interesting---friends have convinced me to sign up in FaceBook and Twitter. The next morning messages arrived from an old high school friend and Jodi (who convinced me to sign up in FBk ) and a friend from here in CB, and one of Jodi's daughters added me to her list. For the most part, we are social creatures and seek that connection.

At the end of this last week---even though we still worked throughout the weekend in our various tangents---some friends and I made time to relax and catch up. Lori, an editor and food writer, invited me over for Friday happy hour, which is something we've done a few times. We sat in her backyard and watched the fog rolling past above us, listened to her many hand-crafted windchimes, looked at her new plants and watched her cat, Rodeo, snuggle up to a pot of catnip.

Sunday, Kristin (and husband Mark) invited me over for wine and bocci ball on the beach. Truly, it's been years since I've played bocci--and it showed. But we hung out on the beach in a warm, south breeze and remarked that, even though we live at the beach, we also work at the beach, and don't get to relax and enjoy a perfect Sunday afternoon often enough.

I worked Saturday and late tonight to get ready for a full Monday, farm visits Tuesday and out of town shoots Wednesday and Thursday. And the hours in the backyard and on the beach could not have been better spent.

Colores en la Lluvia

2009-05-14T04:28:00Z

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

("colors in the rain") I believe I've mentioned that it rains here. In fact I hear the wind still gusting to around 40 mph as I type. Today I went with friends Kristin and Mark on a couple of "farm visits" for the Cannon Beach Farmers Market. Kristin is the Market Director. We began at Linda Brand Crab on Washington's Long Beach Penninsula. This small family company has a reputation for some of the best quality dungeness crab and other seafood (black cod--yummm) on the north coast. They sell from their small, home-based facility and at farmers markets around Portland. They're very excited to be coming to the CB market. The weather became wetter.

Our next stop was at the Rio Cafe in Astoria. This will be the Rio's first foray into the market scene, and their homemade hot sauces will be a big hit. We also had un almuerzo delicioso (delicious lunch--gracias Kristin and Mark) of Enchiladas con Quesos, guacamole, arroz y frijoles. As the storm and fog blew in, you'll see why this was such a lugar brillante (bright spot.) Comfort food, south of the border colors and owner Julie's sunny disposition turned a dismal day into muy bien.

(the next photo was taken there another day, but I still like the colors...)

Passing Time

2009-05-07T06:11:00Z

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Well, today was interesting. Awhile ago I got myself into the "go with the flow" mode. Letting go of a rigid schedule de-stresses one and opens up the day for possibilities. I ended up listening to the rain (which I really didn't get enough of over the winter,) talking to friends on the phone and at the grocery store, eating a late lunch at a little gourmet place and joining a friend for a spontaneous look at our pasts, presents and futures. And someone else told me I should publish a book this year. Who knew all this when my alarm went off this morning?

Tomorrow I have things to do. Some paperwork is ready. I have photos to schedule and an article to write. Research, research.  It isn't on a time table, but there is a lot I want to accomplish tomorrow. I haven't worn a watch for years, but out here clinging to a clock can be deadly--the laid back culture simply doesn't allow it.  Oddly, the one thing that I noticed immediately at my parents' house was the tick-tock-tick-tock in every single room. Everywhere I went there was a clock, and I realized the sound was not only annoying, but signified time passing to me---seconds, minutes, hours, days. All I could concentrate on was the next "tick," and then the minute was gone.

Maybe I'm being over-dramatic, but the silent digital clocks at my house let me work or read or clean or listen to the surf at my own pace. If I schedule everything (and believe me, I have plenty of tasks and projects to keep me busy for the indefinite future,) then I wouldn't feel like having a day like today, where one thing led to another, and it was just as important a day as any blocked off day in my calendar.

The following photos are the last of the mid-west, representing a few hours of passing the time and visiting times past.

(below, a fabulous used book store, Paradox in Wheeling, there since 1978---note the sign)

(below, a white dove watching over Mt. Carmel Cemetery. It was sort of creepy and strange in a way.
  You know how I am with birds, and this one wouldn't move from the road. It had a green band on its leg,
   so it must have belonged to someone at one point. I felt sorry for it because it seemed so alone.)