Thursday, August 14

my summer report


She let go.

Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear.
She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons.

Wholly and completely,
without hesitation or worry,
she just let go. 

She didn’t ask anyone for advice.
She didn’t read a book on how to let go. . . she didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.

She didn’t promise to let go.

It's that time of day. (Iced coffee with almond milk)

She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.

She just let go.


She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word.

She just let go.

Little garage at the end of the lane #provylove

No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.

Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. 

There was no effort.
There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.
-  Reverend Safire Rose (via Rebecca Atwood)

xo, e

Wednesday, July 30


Officially addicted #provylove #instantcity

Can we talk about the nails?  You know, since they are front and center here and an indication of all the time I am not spending getting manicures. (For any perfectionists out there, you will be relieved to know that after seeing this photo I went home and took the last of the blue off my nails so although they may not be buffed and polished, they are at least plain and clear-- you're welcome!)

What has been going on?

Well-- we moved office which went super smoothly in all the ways I had planned and then went pear-shaped in all the ways I had not prepared:  fumes from fresh paint and floor varnish made it impossible to work there the first week; no possibility of installing a sink (<-- boo!), delays and hiccups in getting high-speed internet . . etc.  You know the drill.

Moving = Expect the Unexpected, n'est-ce pas?

@gleenaceramics #provylove@gleenaceramics #provylove

The mill buildings above are not my office space but Asya's -- there are a number of old mill complexes around here that have been turned into office and studio spaces.  I will be sure to share loads of my new digs once I get into a normal life routine.

Well, you know-- as normal and as routine as I ever do.

So far the dogs are settling in well and loving the community which is really warm and welcoming to them.

Daisy and Oliie win over the Verizon guys. The space is looking ready, ...!Feels like I should have a ballet barre....Morning walk through the hood

I will be honest and tell you I am in no way ready for July to be over.  I need THREE more months of July, please.


God, I love summer so much and we need so much more time to both do NOTHING and explore, play and create.  *sigh*

#provyloveSetting up for Thursday night outdoor movie night in downtown #provylove playing tonight? Reality Bites fresh popcorn popping nowThe current state of my living room: sunshine and work in process. Monday we move into the new office space that will also have studio space for me. My living room will be grateful for that!Best of, baby! #provylove

#lincolnwoods #provylove my own Rothko

You can be sure there has been tons of journaling and soul work, too as that seems to be my thang. It's the harder thing for me to talk about and share here because it would take more time and reflection to write with clarity around all that is opening up for me.

All good.  Stuff I like. It feels like things are really popping for me right now.  Three years into living here and all of a sudden every day, every night there are SO many things I want to do and I simply can't do them all.  You know that old gardening adage about perennials?

First year they sleep,
second year they creep,
third year they leap?

Yeah.  It's like that-- much with the leaping around here.

Dogs have both jumped. Am tempted

Movie I liked:  Mumford

Song I'm playing:  Sade, by your side

Video that makes me happy:

bisous, e

Thursday, July 17

I know you won't believe me but . . .

sometimes I lose all track of time and if you ask me what day it is,
I might not know that either

sometimes my dogs graze like cattle

sometimes I am simply incorrigibly anti-social
(but then again, there is solace in knowing I am not alone in that)

Walking and talking are two very great pleasures,
but it is a mistake to combine them. 
Our own noise blots out the sounds and
silences of the outdoor world; 
and talking leads almost inevitably to smoking,
and then farewell to nature as far as
one of our senses is concerned. 
~ CS Lewis

bisous, e

P.S. talking almost inevitably leads to smoking .. . good to know

Tuesday, July 15

tears and fears and feeling proud :: it's life's illusions I recall


It's not often that I wish I'd paid closer attention in my high school physics class.

And yet, on a morning when the air is so thick and muggy that I have the car's A/C running and the itty-bit-but-just-enough stream of raindrops require some windshield wiper action but I still can't see --- am thinking a more comprehensive understanding of glass properties i.e. the hot to cold ratio for clarity might serve me well.


It can also be fun to drift about in a soft fog-- and yes, I am prone to such behavior, but while driving a car? Probably not recommended.

birthday girl is on the left in first photo, on right in second

This weekend I drove north to my hometown to celebrate my niece's 30th birthday. We had nothing but blue skies and sunshine; nothing to cloud my vision.  Well, unless you count tears-- but who in this house counts tears?

Ollie and Daisy are taking the Fifth it seems and have no reply for me.

A better representation of how it looked (and felt)

Yes, I call her my baby girl.  No, she is not my child -- I was there from the moment she was born and she changed my life for the better-- and so she will always be my baby girl.

On Sunday, we went over to Boston College and walked the labyrinth which was so fabulous. A replica of the labyrinth at Chartres!  Who knew? Well, aside from my sister who brought us there . .

Proof yet again, there are things right around the corner for you to discover -- right now!

Two of my favorite moments of the weekend:

one, on Saturday, I came into the sunroom where my brother was reading. I had a book in my hand and was looking for a quiet place to read.  We exchanged hellos-- and then both of us dropped into our own reading worlds.  It was so lovely to be reading in the same space with him.  I know that must sound utterly weird.  I never see him-- why wouldn't we be having a big conversation?  But this was far more connected, for me-- anyway, to share sacred space.

two, similar to the first -- I came down Sunday morning with my book.  Got a coffee and headed out into the back yard where my sister, brother-in-law, and my niece's friend (in the photo above, who is like a niece to me) were all on the patio reading.  I joined them.

There was a a breeze, once in a while you'd hear a car go down the street and birdsong-- but other than that-- the quiet of reading in a circle of kindred-- the beauty of home.

Sacrilege! (I took a selfie on the path)

bisous, e

Friday, July 11

a happy fairy

If I had written this post last night (when I thought I was going to sit down and share with you) it would have been titled, "save me" and I would have linked to this song as that is what was going through my head as the house filled with the rich scent of cinnamon, sugar, and peaches baking.


I am much with the play, fun and spontaneity these days. Last night there were six perfectly ripe peaches sitting in a blue bowl and I decided I wanted to make a crumble. People, I must say for the record, I blew the doors off the peach cobbler cottage.

Granted, I am perfectly familiar with the adage 'easy as apple pie' -- so perhaps I should be a wee bit less thrilled with myself. And yet, with no recipe, no flour on hand-- I had a bit too much fun improvising and proceeded to do the following:
  • grabbed a pie dish
  • buttered it, sprinkled sugar across the bottom
  • sliced the peaches one by one (stopping only to eat a few errant slices because oh dear god they were utterly perfectly ripe and there is nothing on earth that makes me more crazy than ripe peaches in July) into the dish
  • I sprinkled lightly with cinnamon
  • spritzed a squeeze of fresh lemon juice over them
  • in a bowl I dumped some oatmeal, sugar, pinch of salt-- smooshed it up with chunks of butter
  • added a splash of sour cream because it was there and seemed like a good idea
  • then dumped the whole "crumble" mixture over the peaches and smoothed it into a crust.
  • baked it on high heat-- like 425
  • and, oh my god
  • cue save me

This is what it looked like right out of the oven.  Can you smell it?  Oh my god.

Now for the full disclosure.  The entire thing is gone.  Gone.

I have eaten the ENTIRE thing. For breakfast, lunch and then polished it off this afternoon.

Boom. Done. Gone.

*sound of the spoon hitting the empty pie plate in the sink*

And you would think I would be like Winnie-the-pooh or the little bunny who got sick in Farmer McGregor's garden-- Peter Rabbit!-- and need to take my sore, aching belly to bed with a cup of chamomile tea and a heart full of chagrin.

Nope. Not one bit.

I ate the entire thing--- spoonful by ever lovin' spoonful -- and it was HEAVEN and didn't affect me adversely in the least.

The mystery of life . ..  continues to unfold.

Part of why I never got to the computer to write to you last night was I got caught up watching this video with Sonia Choquette that I LOVED, btw-- and where she proclaims herself 'a happy fairy' and I must say-- there's my tribe.

Happy Fairies, unite.

Her statement came in the context of movies she loves--- and, like me, she is not drawn to heavy 'serious' 'important' movies but delights in the absurd, the silly, the smart vs the clever -- she cited: Monty Python, Waiting for Guffman, Spinal Tap . .

The reason they were talking movies is this interview was part of something called Spiritual Cinema Circle.

The hell?  Spiritual Cinema Circle? 

I have never heard of this and as I rarely (oh, so rarely) watch movies but THIS seems right up my alley. They have a selection each month and each month put together a trailer for what's on offer like this: JUNE 2014

Okay-- gotta run.  Meeting the movers in 20 minutes as next week is THE MOVE. boo-yah. 

bisous, e

Tuesday, July 8

every picture. a story.

Your comments encourage me, you know that don't you?

Times like this week -- oh hell, times like all the time-- when I am floating about and have truly nothing to share that you haven't heard before I'll come across one of your lovely notes (am looking at you, kathy) and think okay, maybe it simply helps to get a glimpse of someone else's day.

I am headed to yoga in exactly 24 minutes so this will likely be a hit and run prompted by what I'm seeing in these photos.

Above? Taken a few weeks back when the rose bushes behind my office burst into bloom.  These are the very (very!) thorny roses that are wild, fragrant and worth every band-aid to bring home. The glass bottles are part of the ridiculous collection of small old bottles I have collected over the years.

The H from the word HOME that sits prominently above the mantel which I find rather grounding-- odd, I know (but then, I have the words, "strength, trust, authenticity" scribbled on a scrap of paper and stuck to my fridge-- so there you have it.

Words, all by themselves they support me, somehow.

Oh, most important in the image above?  That sweetest wee sheep that was a gift from my dear friend Noelle who knows and loves me so well.

And this? Taken minutes ago. A picture tells a story, yes? Bowl empty of watermelon cubes that were cold and sweet. Dog bed empty as Oliver much prefers the cool and dark of my back bedroom these summer afternoons. Ah, but the fan is not running . .. which means as I type to you there is that oh so goddess-y breeze that we wait all winter for.

You know, that breeze that reminds you ever so gently that everything is exactly right and there's nothing to do in this moment but feel the touch of this air move across your skin.

My best effort to help you feel the breeze.

8 minutes left until I pull on some yoga gear, sling my mat across my shoulder and walk to class.

Things that make me unreasonably happy:  dill in my bouquet. Yes. Dill. In my bouquet.

I have been smiling about this for days. I got it from the farmer's market on Saturday as I wandered about with a friend visiting from L.A. who is here doing a summer intensive of classes at RISD.

Perhaps nothingness is the secret source 
from which all beginning springs
~ John O'Donohue, Beauty

et voila, c'est tout -- il faut que je m'en aie!
bisous, e

Monday, June 30

second star to the right, and straight on 'till morning!

Yes. We've been much with the fairy dust and flight in these parts.

What can I say? It's summer. There are heirloom tomatoes to be eaten on toast with sea salt and mayonnaise. Mornings that begin with birdsong. Evenings that close out with birdsong. And sunshine.

Today is the last day of June so I simply must jump in here and post as there is a statute of limitations on how long you can go without blogging in my world and one full month definitely takes me right to that edge. The thing is, there's only so much happiness anyone wants to hear about. Happiness, let's be honest, is boring.

Alas-- I absolutely love being boring. It suits me extremely well.  I just don't want to wish it on any of you, and yet-- I know we have this kind of kooky relationship, you and I-- and so I have to show up. And so, here I am.

Yep.  That's what I painted onto my bookcase last night cause that is pretty much where I am at.

Best things I have read of late are Anatomy of Desire (which I kind of feel like I already told you about but am too lazy to go back and read through previous posts to see if that is true or not) and a couple of small volumes by Osho:  Intuition and Creativity.

The thing about Osho is I find him to be a bit of a blowhard (I know, am so judge-y and clearly light years away from being enlightened). But if you ignore that part, there's much to take away, or at least I have certainly scribbled down quite a bit.

"If nirvana is in the small things, the way you live them--
the way you transform every small activity into a holy act,
into a prayer-- your house becomes a temple, your body becomes the abode of God, and wherever you look and whatever you touch is tremendously beautiful, sacred--
then nirvana is freedom.

Nirvana is to live the ordinary life so alert, so full of consciousness, so full of light, that everything
becomes luminous. It is possible.
I say so because I have lived it so,
I am living it so.
It has become possible for me;
it can become possible for you."

- Osho, Creativity

Yep. You and me both, Osho. Welcome to the house of the bo-bo-BORING.

Yesterday I actually broke out the real cameras and took photos old school. I've already posted a bunch of them here and here, so will have to find some other way to tell my story because to tap from the same roll a third time might cause my redundancy meter to shatter the calm like a car alarm.

Words, then.

First, a question.  Do I truly believe I am capable of keeping up with three blogs when I only ever have the one story? Hmm, hard to say.

Of course, that tale of the elephant and the three blind monks . . each of them described a very different animal seeing as each encountered the elephant from different perspectives-- comes to mind.  But then, I am not blind, a monk or catching up for drinks with an elephant at the local pub, so I don't think this provides any answer.

Besides drowning myself sweetly in the nectar of summer, I have also been gently easing myself back into painting/writing mode.

The weekend before last I did a two-day workshop up in Boston with Sabrina Ward Harrison that really got the mojo rolling and I cannot wait for my new studio space to be set up this month. We were supposed to move in July 1st (omg, that's tomorrow!) but fortunately for me, it got delayed as this is a brand new office space they are building and they won't be done until the 15th.

I also splurged on some Ginny Sims ceramics from HERE which just arrived tonight and I am kind of delighted with how very rustic Portuguese goes Versailles they are.  Roughly styled with naif blue strokes and yet the gold rims just take it to a whole new place. Handmade pottery is my weakness for sure. (hello non-sequitur!)

But hey! Now that I think about it, this is kind of a big night. Tomorrow marks my third year of moving to Providence: we arrived July 1 in a wild ass rainstorm. We were all feeling a bit shipwrecked and uncertain.

What a world apart from this moment.

Right now the air is soft and balmy. Bare feet in squishy green grass kind of weather. The windows and front door are open, a light breeze rolls through. The dogs are crashed. And after I hit send on this post, I'm gonna sit here a bit and reflect on all that has happened in these past 36 months and, perhaps, have a wonder about what tomorrow might bring.

egret at the river on our afternoon walk
bisous, e