On this evening's walk

I went for a walk in my neighborhood this evening as part of the September habitude going on over at Magpie Girl. I saw some interesting things close to home, including forsythia blooming in September. What's up with that?

(All photos in this post taken with my groovy LG enV cell phone.)

These flowers seemed confident in their beauty, and better suited to the season:

And I saw my favorite neighborhood dog tonight! The picture isn't very good, but you can just make out her odd proportions. This silly little girl looks exactly like a wiener dog and a lab all smooshed together! Her owner says they got her from a shelter and confirmed the dachshund part. The other half wasn't lab, but I can't remember the breed. Whatever it was, we all hope the sire was a scrappy wiener. (Dog. Wiener dog!) I don't know her name, but I call her a Dachrador or Labshund:

I also saw a Geo Tracker packed full of someone's belongings, and a family playing croquet in their front yard, but I thought I might look suspicious pointing and clicking my cell phone at them.

Want to see my favorite item from my walk? Check out the next post...

Golden Days

Courtyard between two retail shops, East Main St., Ligonier, Pa

These are the golden days of summer. Maybe it's the blue sky, sunshine, and low humidity, reminding me that my favorite season is fast approaching. Perhaps it's the festive holiday weekend brightening everyone's mood. Or maybe it's simply that I spent the days with people I love, doing things I enjoy.

The weekend has been full of sensory delights:

• a last minute visit with a dear friend;
• comic llamas at the market munching on grass with their broad, powerful teeth;
• a decadent lunch with Mom at Ivy's Cafe that included fruited iced tea, salad with homemade berry vinaigrette, lobster and shrimp croquettes, mashed potatoes, sweet carrots, an open-faced bleu burger, and homemade potato chips, with coconut rum cake and a strawberry and cream Napoleon for dessert;
• courtyards and bouquets of flowers, still going strong in the last days of the season;
• finding laughter and connectedness after too many days without;
• tills of fresh, local berries in hues of golden yellow, ruby red, and pearlescent black;
• wines from the new Greendance Winery at Sand Hill that remind me of the wines of my honeymoon;
• barbeque chicken and ribs with James at The Summer Place's last weekend of the season; and
• using gift cards to buy an outdoor fireplace for our new patio.

These beasties inspired my mom to quote from Napoleon Dynamite: "Tina, eat. Eat the food!"

Here's an extreme close-up of the tasty green morsel in Tina's mouth (and check out that chin stubble!):

This lantern is next to the Squirrel Crossing trellis (above) on East Main Street in Ligonier:

In front of a shop in Ligonier:

Sunday's solo expedition to the berry farm yielded beautiful, ripe fruit, shown here in my backyard, which is (finally) looking green and lush:

On Monday we'll water the new plants from our recent landscaping renovation, run a few errands, and find recipes to use up all those berries. I'll spend some time finishing my postcards for the swap while James practices his violin. Dinner will be a cookout that's sure to include corn on the cob. We'll initiate the new fireplace by toasting marshmallows and will end the day under the stars, relaxed in the knowledge that we both have Tuesday off as well. Golden days, indeed.

The long, fuzzy days of summer

Celosia (cock's comb) and ornamental chiles at Ligonier Country Market, August 2007

I've been twitchy and buzzy for days. I can't focus, can barely think, and keep swatting away distractions and negativity like flies. And like flies, they keep coming back.

Ideas swirl around in my head, floating up to the surface, sometimes bobbing around haphazardly -- maybe running into a buoy or dinghy -- before losing air and sinking again. I can see them just under the surface, but can't make out the details.

On Saturday I found some relief by getting out of the house and doing instead of stewing. (ha)After three weeks of failing to get up early enough for the Ligonier Country Market, I finally made it. I'm not a morning person at all, and my desire for local produce and baked goods was thwarted by staying up until the wee hours and having no chance of getting to market.

I've been having trouble with farmers markets in general lately. Two weeks ago I tried to go to the Tuesday market on Wednesday. The following week I tried to go to the Thursday market on Wednesday. Clearly, both of these should have been open on Wednesday! I was beginning to think I just wasn't meant to have fresh veggies.

But this weekend I prevailed! I wanted to get to Ligonier by 10:00am, but my body told me that was just silly after going to bed at 3:00am. I managed to get up by 10:00 and got there around 11:15. I only had 45 minutes to zip around and fill my arms with goodies. It was blazing hot and some of the selections were limited, but it was well worth the trip. I think the trick is to get there when they open around 7:00am. (Geez -- maybe I should just stay up all night and then go!)

I was giddy at the delightful sights and smells, drunk on local flavor. I bought a bunch of flat-leaf parsley for 75 cents; a pint of grape and pear tomatoes; green beans from an Amish family; homemade lavender soap; a loaf of potato bread; raisin-filled cookies for the hubby; a delicious raspberry-cream-chocolate pie from Sand Hill Berries; a lunch of tabbouleh, spinach and feta pie, and baklava from a Greek food vendor; and not one but TWO bunches of gorgeous fresh flowers, one of luscious lisianthus and little white hydrangea, and a glorious wildflower mix that includes plump sunflowers, jaunty zinnias, and shy snapdragons.

I also lusted after a gaggle of hand-knitted, felted purses by Toni of Raggz. I'd link to her website, but she doesn't have one yet. I'm encouraging her to get one ASAP so I can tell everyone I know to buy a purse or three. I'm not a purse kind of gal and typically can't find one that I really like, but I wanted to buy everything in Toni's stall! (For more Raggz goodness, check out my flickr set. If you see something you'd like to buy (for yourself or for me!) -- contact me and I'll connect you with Toni.)

Raggz creations at Ligonier Country Market

Toni was also kind enough to offer to help me learn to knit if I wanted to sit with her some Saturday. I've been thinking about learning to knit for awhile now, so when I won the book Knit Wit from Felicia Sullivan's Friday giveaway a few weeks ago, I figured it was time to take the hint and try it out. I found a local yarn shop (also named Knit-Wits Inc., incidentally) housed in a little red school house. (Photo at left is from their website.)

I think I could fall in love with yarn. It's yummy. The inside of Knit-Wits was like a candy shop. I wanted to gobble up all the rich colors and textures. I'm not sure if I'll ever love knitting, but I may just start collecting beautiful yarn and displaying it as art. I have a feeling I've hit the tip of the needle (har!) with this knitting and yarn thing. Something tells me that there is a whole knitting community, even yarn cults, out there. It's the fuzzy underbelly of the arts&crafts movement.

The kind lady at Knit-Wits told me about the boutique's knitting lessons for $15/hour. I think I'll do a lesson or two, especially after trying to use the book, which was--how do you say? Hard. I think the book is pretty well-written. But learning to knit from a book, especially when you've never even held a pair of knitting needles before, is like learning to use American Sign Language from a manual. (Trust me, I've tried it.) It's nearly impossible to teach a three-dimensional activity from two-dimensional illustrations. Then again, I'm not so great at anything involving spatial relation skills, so I enlisted James to help me decipher the pictures. With his help, I managed to "cast on" using the "long tail method," but had trouble with the actual knitting of stitches. And I didn't even attempt purling. My favorite part of the night was watching James puzzle out the directions, do his best to knit a row of stitches, and then say, "But what do I do NOW?"

I find myself asking that question all day long: What do I do now? My Saturday outing was lovely, but I still can't focus. I keep waiting for my head to quiet down so I can think. I hear that knitting is a good balm for such brain buzz, but I have a feeling that's true only after it stops feeling like trying to "floss your teeth with your toes," as Knit Wit (the book) described beginning knitters.

Are you clear headed or fuzzy these days? What's in or out of focus for you?

All that glitters

You know that girl in your head who tells you can't do it, so why even try? Well, I know that she's a liar, but she has me petrified. I'm not mad at her, because I understand that she's just scared and doesn't want to see me fail. Her scope is so limited that she can barely imagine the possibility that I might succeed, or at least have some fun along the way. I feel bad for her (let's call her Violet) because she usually sits alone, cautiously looking around, making sure that nothing will force her out of her comfortable little corner. Violet is extremely suspicious of the other girl (let's call her Phoebe) who lives across the way, in another corner.

Unlike Violet, Phoebe doesn't usually stay put. She's all over the place, flitting here and there, running about laughing, even venturing over to Violet's corner and inviting her to come out and play. On a good day, Violet does. And each time it's like discovering a whole new world. "Look at this!" says Phoebe. "Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it fun? Aren't we wrapped up in the joy and wonder of it all?"

On those good days, Violet responds, "Yes! I never knew it could all be so marvelous! How could I ever think that my one little corner was enough?" And she and Phoebe hold hands, laughing, skipping, just living and breathing pure magic.

But on the bad days, Violet, who has a pessimistic and mean streak, looks at Phoebe and says, "What's the use? What's so great about any of this? You keep trying, but it's just so hard sometimes, isn't it? Wouldn't you rather take a nap, Phoebe?"

Phoebe is fiercely independent and annoyingly optimistic, but even she can't hold out forever. Most of the time she simply tells Violet that she loves her and will always welcome her to come and play. But sometimes, on the worst of days, Phoebe takes Violet's gloomy advice and retreats to her own corner, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

__________________________________

A few weeks ago I signed up for a Postcard Swap hosted by Karen of Chookooloonks. The idea instantly thrilled me for two reasons. First of all, I love the idea of taking online community off-line into the "real" world. What an interesting way to connect with strangers who share at least one common bond (reading the same blog). The concept is fairly simple: Create a batch of handmade postcards using your medium of choice, mail them out to the 11 people on your list, and receive 11 little works of art in return.

The second reason I was excited about this is that I needed an art project to jump start me. I've mentioned before that I started dabbling with watercolours earlier this summer. I'm sad to say that I've only painted once since the class ended over a month ago. I want to paint and try new art forms (at this point, most art forms are new to me), but I never seem to get around to it.

I think about it a lot. But it just seems like such a hassle. I have to work on the dining room table, which means I need to put the kits in an upstairs bedroom, otherwise they'd be covered in paint and glitter . (Okay, I don't actually have glitter. Should I get glitter?) I tell myself that it'd be so much easier to paint and create if I had an art station in my office. That way I could make a mess and not clean it up if I didn't finish a project in one sitting. "If only I had a studio," I tell myself, "I'd create more."

But the real truth of the matter is that I'm scared. When I first started painting, I had no visions in my head of what I wanted to do. But very quickly -- surprisingly quickly, in fact -- I started to have ideas and inklings about what I'd like to see happen on the page. But I'm new. So new that I often don't have a clue about how to achieve my vision. I don't even know what materials to use. Heck, I don't even know what materials are available. I'm pretty sure that some of my visions aren't suited to watercolour, but I don't know what I need.

All I know is that I'm supposed to mail out 11 hand-made postcards in two weeks. And I don't want the recipients to be disappointed. As I fretted over this a few nights ago, a poem came to me, just a few lines long, but perfect and complete. I haven't written poetry in years and was surprised by its appearance. I'm taking it as a gift that I can use to anchor my vision for the postcard. At least I have a starting point now.

I'll share it -- and the postcards -- with you after everything is mailed out. In the meantime, tell me, how do you get your own artist to come out and play?

Nothing but time, baby. Nothing but time.

I am swimming in time. I have so much free time that I squander it, forgetting its value, like a wayward pop star with her fame, or a young socialite who doesn't care about her millions because she has millions more.

I used to work a fulltime job and do freelance writing on the side. I was edgy and exhausted much of the time. I didn't have enough time for myself and was forced to follow other people's schedules that just didn't jibe with my own biorhythms.

When I left fulltime employment a year ago, I took some time to recover. I was overextended and pretty close to some sort of breakdown. Since then, I've had periods of time with a lot of work, and other periods with very few deadlines to meet. I've found that work breeds work. Researching one project always leads me to another. Securing one client somehow brings me another, even when they're not even remotely connected. And creativity breeds creativity. One idea wakes me up and generates another and another, on topics as varied as citizen journalism to art journals. When it rains, it really does pour. And so often, it truly is famine or feast. These sayings have become clichés because there is some truth in them.

During the slow times, I get lazy. But lately I've had a load of new ideas and the desire to fill my days with more useful, focused, and exciting activities. Then I immediately feel overwhelmed and wonder how I will possibly fit it all in. Fit it all in to what? I already said that I have an excess of time. So where does it all go?

Why am I not reading more books? Sending out more magazine queries? Fleshing out my book outline? Taking more walks? Seeing friends more often? Cooking more dinners? Baking more cupcakes? Playing with watercolours? Remembering to moisturize my newly-pedicured feet? Visiting more farmers' markets? Praying more often? Why am I not doing all of the things I swore I'd do if only I had the time?

I've talked with some artists who are also mothers, and they assert that the time-consuming job of child rearing can actually help them with their art. Being forced to work in shorter, more focused spurts seems to spur them toward greater creativity and productivity. Much of the analysis paralysis, the procrastination, and the fear are set aside for those glorious moments when they have the opportunity to create. They say the look back at their pre-motherhood days and wonder what they did with all that free time.

I think about this and wonder, what's my excuse for not doing all of the things my heart desires? What am I doing with my time?

I don't want to wait for a baby or some other responsibility to make me look wistfully at my previous life and ache for the long, long days filled with me-time. I have the me-time now. And I'm determined to start making it my time.

This means making lists and checking them twice. As much as I like to be a free spirit, I need some structure and accountability to keep me on task. The beauty of my life right now is that I get to choose which tasks I take on. What a glorious gift! I always secretly wished for this type of life, but never really thought I'd have it. I realize that it may not last forever. But while it's here, it's mine. And I'm going to use it well. In the process, maybe I'll acquire some skills that will help me to live fully even when external demands take up more of my time.

Tell me, how are you making your life and time your own, despite (or because of) the constraints around you?