Idaho or Bust

Today:  Laundry, packing, last minute trips to the studio, second cup of maté, lunch outside, a short run, early to bed (which is what I say now, but we all know I'll see the clock strike midnight).

Tomorrow:  6 am breakfast with BC, a morning flight to Boise, second cup of coffee and a three hour drive up into the Rockies to visit for the week with one of my very favorite birds.

That's right folks, Idaho or Bust.

I'm charging the camera battery right now.

In other news, the Illustrious Mme. Bookling has put a self-care challenge to all the ladies who, ehem, may or may not always take the best care of themselves.  The challenge is, for one week, to mindfully indulge in some sort of self-care every day.  Today, for me, that meant blowing off the omni-present to-do list for an hour and making something just for me.  Not for my upcoming shows, not for wholesale orders, not for the Etsy shop, but just for me.  And let me tell you, it was DAMN satisfying.  I really need to do it more often.

Because every gal needs a new shirt for the air/road tripping.  I've seen so many fabulous embellished tees lately, and really wanted to try my hand at something with ruffles and folds.  Whaa La!  Airport security won't know what hit 'em!

What Oregon Looks Like and Other Tales of a Long Drive

I find myself to be a fair-weather photographer and unpredictable at best.  You should also know that I have no problem with this.  On the most prolific of days, I will shoot 50 images of peeling tree bark, cracks in the sidewalk, cloud formations and cherry blossoms (I also will not tell you how many photos of my cats I take - the quantity is embarrassing).  On the rest, I will not snap a single image, in the name of being present in the moment.  

So last weekend when BC and I [rather unannounced] packed up and drove to California for my little sister's college graduation, I managed to take a total of 18 photos.  15 of those were on the drive, trying ANYTHING to pass the time.  Oregon is a beautiful state, but too often these days, it is just a looooooooooong 306 miles between Washington and California.  And once the junk food has made me sick (road trips are my excuse to eat junk like sour patch kids and handfuls of coco puffs, the kind of things I won't touch any other time but gleefully munch on in the car), I resort to amusing myself with the camera.  

We threw up a tent right on the Northern California coast, and spent a long weekend with my family celebrating my Miss Aubrey, the new hot-off-the-press-Humbolt-State-University-Graduate.  The weather was impeccable, dense fog in the early morning, burning off to a crisp 70 degrees by midday, the ocean roaring and brilliantly turquoise, the town of Arcata quirky as ever.  We ate it up family-style, touring the local breweries and cookhouses, sampling the farmer's market, conversation flowing as easy as the brew.  We clapped and shouted at the sight of black robes and mortar boards marching in line (as unruly as could be, it is Humbolt after all!).  We flew kites, dug fingers into the sand, stood under the stars on the beach at two in the morning, watched jugglers in the plaza, walked barefoot in the grass.  And then after the last glass was raised and the last hug offered, BC and I headed for home, exhausted but full of life.

Aubrey

I am so proud of you.  You are the kind of woman I would adore and respect even if we were not sisters.  The future is wide and the path is long, and I can not wait to see where you stride (and I will be keeping my fingers crossed that it is closer to me).  

I love you.

** Family photo positively stolen from Zandra H.  THANK YOU MY LOVE!**

Observations at Twin Falls

One of the strangest things to me about photographs is how small they seem.  Standing on that bridge, a sharp wind blowing bits of spray onto my cheeks, the evergreens crowding my nostrils, the mating calls of song birds persistently ringing above the thundering of the waterfall, I felt so tiny.  The trees canopied over my head, and I could see so far from my little wooden perch, the entire river laid out like an eternity below me. 

***

I faced off with a humming bird, but as we were of equal size, we were an equal match.  For ten long minutes we sized each other up, I bound to the ground, standing in the midst of the most beautiful swarm of golden gnats, the humming bird high in a tree, sitting frozen one second, buzzing threateningly the next, red breast flickering flames in the sunlight.

***

I saw my first trillium of the season, no small event for my year.  I keep noticing trilliums in my dreams.  As I'm hiking through brittle snow, I look down and dozens of bright white petals are springing up around my feet, I look closer and see that the snow is just a thin layer of ice and I am actually walking above the treetops of some underground world.  I realize if I stomp and crack that ice, the trilliums and I will fall through in one brilliant tumble of blooms like a bird shot in flight.

***

I sat quietly before three totem trees.  Gnarled and twisting, eyes raised like the saints, each seemed to hold a thousand faces.  Ferns sprouted twenty feet up in every which direction, the unruly hair of the elderly.  I tried to listen, but my young ears could not be silent long enough to hear their song, so instead I bowed and promised to return with a more patient spirit.

***

A Tribute to the Girliest Night Ever

I'm flying solo this weekend.  BC is away on business (but that doesn't mean you're not checking my blog does it babe?) and I've the run of the house all to myself which you can translate into Total Chick Night.  So, I kid you not, the evening's run down has looked exactly like this:

*Attend First Thursday Art Openings (saying "Hello" to a little, tiny piece I have up in a group show of artist sketches).

*Become misty eyed in public looking at the most provocatively beautiful show of photography I've seen in a long time.

*Swing by my favorite neighborhood wine shop for a bottle of vino, picked out by the trusty owner.

*Drink said red wine and read poetry while sitting with my kitty boys (yes, I've completely become that woman).

*Hand wash my lady wear (I am a huge believer in small luxuries, like quality undergarments that make you feel like goddess even when you're wearing your scruffies).

*Spend an unmentionable about of time browsing the gazillion pages of Etsy, trying very hard to not press "Buy."

*Whip up a batch of brownies, which happen to smell AMAZING right this very second!

Looking back over that list it appears I have forgotten to eat dinner.  BUT what is truly fabulous, is that in the spirit of Total Chick Night, I think I'll whip up nothing but a massive bowl of steamed spinach, a plate of strawberries, and a healthy hunk of dill-havarti cheese. FABULOUS!

As a total side note, BC and I played a game of "would you rather do this or this" last night and after serious debate, the results were in.  If I had it to do over again, and my career choices were to be a professional golfer or an extreme cage fighter, I would land punches like none other.  There is no way I could ever see myself in a tidy polo with my Nike sponsorship and perfectly straight pony tail (not that there is anything wrong with golf, mind you! Actually I think it is the much wiser choice.  And it's what BC picked).  No, not for me.  I'd be the scrappy one in the rawhide outfit with rhinestones,throwing out roundhouse kicks that would make Chuck Norris proud.  Absolutely.

So what would you be?

Won't you join us?