problem solving

cold + wind = no mosquitoes = perfect summer day.

Just as a white summer cloud, in harmony with heaven and earth freely floats in the blue sky from horizon to horizon following the breath of the atmosphere—in the same way the pilgrim abandons himself to the breath of the great life that leads him beyond the farthest horizons to an aim which is already present within him, though yet hidden from his sight.

~Lama Govinda.
The Way of the White Clouds

You know, the funny thing is...

that he just walked in.

Sitting in Silence

The first round of visitors just walked in, but then left. They're in search of the library. Just like everyone else. Every Saturday I get at least one group that is not here for art, but books... or more likely, an internet connection.

But now there is silence. So, so much silence. I wish my husband would walk in and give me a nice long hug for absolutely no reason at all. He's tall, with long arms. Maybe he could even wrap those arms around me twice. Like a cocoon.
But he's working.

Middle Eastern/ East Indian Hybrid:

My new invention involves a culinary/cultural collision. Cheap and healthy.

1 can garbonzo beans (chick peas)
approx. 1 tablespoon minced garlic
small handful of fresh cilantro
fresh lemon (squeeze for juice)
approx. 2 tablespoons graham marsala (an Indian spice-- more or less to taste)

Put it all in a food processor or blender until it turns into a beautiful mush and wallah! Serve on wasa crackers (or on just about anything). Yum, Yum. Oink.

House For Sale:

Oh man, it gives me a stomach ache. It really does. I've spent the last two days cleaning and I realize I've only made a dent in "decluttering" this place. Yesterday and today I cleaned the basement "studio" and then moved on to the grand task of going through paper work. 6 years of paper work that has accumulated in boxes and piles in my closet. Stuff that I told myself, "Oh, I'll finish going through it later." I'm not a messy person. But, where did all this crap come from?!

I went through the house and made a checklist of what needs to be done. A lot of little things. Nothing someone with a little bit more time couldn't do, but for some reason it's giving me anxiety. The summer is flying past. School and writing is suffering already from everything that's been going on this summer. This would be a lot easier if we could just move first, then sell. It would be easier because I would rent a big dumpster and be done with it. Not to mention, it would make cleaning that much easier and it would stay clean when I'm done. But this isn't a very good sales-pitch. The truth of the matter is that I'm giving myself a week to make this place sparkle and I hope between now and then Vinny wins the powerball. Because this place is incredible. Damn.

For Sale:

Unique, newer 4 bedroom home on 40 (absolutely beautiful) acres in Becida, MN.
State forest on 2 sides.

Fireplace, vaulted ceilings finished with knotty pine, wood floors, open loft, lots and lots of windows, hand-crafted railings, log staircase, custom cherry kitchen cabinets, claw-foot tub, central air, partially finished basement. An artist's dream house! (or a hunter's, a nature lover's... a who-ever's).

Technically, it's the first day of summer and I'm thinking that a cold snap wouldn't be half bad.

Wolfie, the outside dog, has been scratching at the door all morning to get in. Not because it's cold out. Not because there's a storm or too much wind. But because it's hot and the mosquitos are eating us alive out here! Oh yes, it is the price we pay for all this beautiful green. Mosquitos are also why I like winter so much. I have just the right size molecules for their little beaks to fit into. I itch. I itch. I itch. And although I know I am in the minority here... wouldn't some cold weather feel good? Anu agrees.

For now I am off to town in search of a writing oasis with less bugs. Wish me luck.

Vodka 7 with Lime

My head hurts. Family has been in town. I've forgotten how to blog. Mosquitos are out. Friends are on the way with a bottle of wine. It's warm out. I'm drinking hot chocolate with instant coffee because we're out of the real stuff. Last night I laughed so hard my jaw still hurts. Yesterday I attended a funeral complete with a 21 gun salute. Goodbyes are hard. I feel like I just shot out through a rough patch of rapids. The river is high.

Maybe tomorrow I'll try for more complex sentence structure.

Today I:

put away my clothes for the first time since spring break, mowed the lawn, made a path through the woods and one half way across the field, dug up the flower bed, weeded the herb garden, planted tomatoes, more herbs, and flowers in pots; changed the bedding, did dishes, read more than necessary for homework, got an idea for a paper, took a short walk with wolfie, did a load of laundry, checked blogs 3 times, made 2 pots of coffee, pasta salad, and cookie dough (which will be in the oven for my husband later when he gets home from work tonight--oh how domestic of me). damn. it's amazing how much i can get done in one day when i don't think too much.

tomorrow i'll plant my grandma's flower garden, hang out with my brother, babysit the gallery, have dinner with visiting family, then wine with a friend. yes, this is a happily productive and well-balanced weekend. only thing left to do is...

WRITE!!!

3 days away from home feels like forever.

Been staying with my grandma. Helping her to adjust to life without her husband. This morning we bought flowers for her flower beds. She said today was the best day she's had since he passed away. Little sparks of life return to her eyes. After class I went back to make her and I ruebens for dinner before I finally came home. It feels good to be home.

Wolfie is dealing with her own sense of loss-- still missing Abe and then confused by my absence, she spent the first hour of my return with her furry head nuzzled against my neck. She finally ate, but only with me watching her. This taking care of others, helping them deal with death has, in its own way, helped me to deal with it too.

It feels good to be home with my husband, the dog, the cats, a decent cup of coffee, and the sounds of frogs and wind coming in through the open window.

Summer school has had an interesting beginning. Writing in the middle of the night or in stolen moments while hiding ever so briefly in coffee shops. But today I gave up for the sake of good company and an excellent lunch at Tuttos. Yum. Tasha introduced me to the most wonderful cup of Black Forest something or other that I've ever tasted. Transported.

As for writing... I'm still waiting for the flood gates to open. A small burst in the beginning. Strange daily assignments. Who knows where I'll end up.

Random thoughts.

Yet another rainy day. I still don't feel like a normal person. Time stretches in odd directions. Tonight I cleaned yet another room... this time the basement. Did three loads of laundry, but couldn't bring myself to wash the last blanket that Abe slept on. I know I have to move on, and slowly I am. But I feel a little bit like that rock in the tide, my edges rubbed smooth.

Today I spent some time reading the book I chose for College Writing I in the fall. And I realize that I have a daunting task in front of me. The book has its highlights and pitfalls. My job is to figure out the stuff that I like and then make it work. I enjoy this work, but my brain feels like it should be writing and painting at the same time. Summer classes start Monday. I'm not sure I'm up for it, but it has potential if I'm careful enough to be optimistic. I just hope it will be useful and not a waste of time. The class is supposed to a workshop for teaching creative writing. We'll see.

Now that I've had some time to reflect on this past year of teaching I've come to the conclusion that I really enjoy teaching freshmen English. To end up with a hodge-podge group of students with a myriad of majors... I enjoy the challenge of getting even the wary to enjoy writing, if even for a semester (or even a moment). It is an incredible high to witness the occasional excitement. There are many who don't like to teach this class. I am not one of them.

This morning I stopped at the Old School House and bought 2 beautiful pieces of paper. They will become acrylic and ink paintings that I'm working on for my show in the Minneapolis in August. Henna hands. My hands. And for awhile maybe it will be the last I paint of India. At least for awhile. Then to prepare for a show in December. While time has taken on a certain amount of non-meaning, I've also come to the realization that it (time) is moving forward with or without me. So I continue. With hopes that eventually the rest will come.

Abe

There are no words for losing a best friend, my best friend in the world.