Autumn Bridge of Chance

As Sacramento summer draws to a close I languish in every moment of sunlight.  The scent in the dry-heat-air changes, ever so slightly and then at a moment’s notice autumn is knocking.  She is a force to be reckoned with; everything she touches eventually becomes dormant or dies.  She sets in motion the next turn of the great wheel.  I use the last of the light to harvest summer vegetables, pick any fragrant and fickle fruit that remain!  Put the garden to bed; cover it with the compost collected all summer long.  I save a small plot to plant those wintry vegetables that will sustain me until winter has passed and spring knocks on our doors. 

I look in the mirror and see sparkly white strands pop out of my auburn hair.  As it fades into gray, my memories along with it.  Antics of my ill-spent youth, ache of a lover (lanky and long-gone), opportunities passed under the bridge of chance haunt me.  If I had only knew then, what I know now.   But then again, I wouldn’t have what I have:  house & home, family, career, and the autumn of my life to enjoy the fruits of my labor.  The Sheer 80% of just showing up, putting family first and somehow loving myself enough got me to where I am today. 

If I look closely, my mirror reveals crinkly lines at the sides of my eyes.  Crow’s feet as some might point out.   My eyesight, fading, I develop my ability to see.  I now see with my heart center, my third eye and my intuitive mind.  What colors, lights and dark spaces are revealed to me?  What metaphysical paths un-noticed by the naked eye?  Is it so bad to be compared to the stalwart crow?

Bridge of Chance
Bay Bridge

My Womb, no longer can birth children, menses long gone.  Can she birth new ideas? Does she finally have time to she always longed to create art, and poetry and food?  All solely to nourish the soul? 

What does the death of my beloved summer bring me?

If I look one more time in the mirror.  Carefully, behind my smile, my laugh, the twinkle in my eye, can I see what lies on the other side of the bridge of chance?

The bat of an eyelash

It was so all very subtle.  The magical moment might have been missed.  My niece got married Saturday to a great guy.  They are an extremely nice young couple, smart, savvy, full of all life has to offer.  The wedding was in a beautiful Lake Tahoe, CA venue, outdoors on a gorgeous summer day in July.   Same day, twenty eight years after her parents got married, she tied the knot (literally) with the guy of her dreams.  The stuff romance was made of.

 

I loved that little girl since the moment I laid eyes on her and she hid behind the couch because she didn't want a babysitter, she wanted her mommy.  As I watched Trevor recite his vows to her, there was a moment suspended in time, her eyelashes fluttered.  In that moment, in the bat of an eyelash, everything changed.  I could see the commitment and love between the two and it was a thing of loving beauty to witness beyond comparison.  Everyone there could feel the shift, the change in relationship, the commitment between the two.  

 

Mr & Mrs

I wish all the best to these two wonderful people and to them I bestow the beauty, wisdom and humor in this Billy Collins poem. 

LITANY

"You are the bread and the knife,
           The crystal goblet and the wine..."
                 -Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
 the crystal goblet and the wine.
 You are the dew on the morning grass
 and the burning wheel of the sun.
 You are the white apron of the baker,
 and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
 the plums on the counter,
 or the house of cards.
 And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
 There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
 maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
 but you are not even close
 to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
 that you are neither the boots in the corner
 nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
 speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
 that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
 the evening paper blowing down an alley
 and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
 and the blind woman's tea cup.
 But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
 You are still the bread and the knife.
 You will always be the bread and the knife,
 not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

Billy Collins

J+Ts Shower

Flower Themed Invites 

Flower Themed Guest List

New Shade Structure

Upcycled Frames

These were 25 cents each

Pool Swim Ready

Our Helper

Applique Coffee Cups

Plant the succulents

More Flowers for a Flower Life

Ready for a new home?

Flower Factory

I felt like a fairy godmother when I made these

To make it easier I used a tray

To catch the extra soil

All Done

Morning Light

Upcycled Frames with Instagram Signs

Fresh Lavender.  I made bouquets for the bride, my sister-in-law and two aunts.

Give Advice to the Newlyweds Game:
Really quite funny.  Have guests fill out and have bride and groom read.

For Jessica: 

When Trevor doesn’t  ______________________________

don’t ______________________________________________.

For Trevor:

When Jessica asks _______________________ make sure

you say __________________________________________.

For Jessica + Trevor:

Don’t forget to________________________________________

before you __________________________________________.

Special Message:

From:  

Lemonade Stand

Paper Straws

Our Garden

Cooking Area

Bliss Dome

Poolside Eatery

Banquet Dining

Bliss Dome - Chillax!

Lemonade Stand

Lavender Lemonade, Paper Straws
You can see how we used the upcycled frames

Floral Table decor are take home gift for guests

Moonrise on a romantic evening

Yummy Cupcakes

LOTS of dishes :)

The morning after we enjoyed the bliss dome 

Weekend ended too soon.  

You think you can't dance?

You may say you can't dance.  That may be true.  There are talented dancers.  These athletes put in years of work to present artistic renditions, tell stories, amaze and entertain.  We all feel good after witnessing these fabulous artists.

5Rhythms is a whole other kind of dance.   It is the kind of dance that a Jewel writes about in a beautiful poem.  It is the kind of dance that isn't about entertainment or impressing anybody.  It is the kind of dance where each dancer creates their own medicine.  It is a flux vortex celebration of vibrant life heals what ails you kind of dance. 

You may say you can’t dance. So, well maybe that’s true

But maybe you can.  A dance can be any kind of movement.  Even if the dance is the slightest movement of your pinky finger, light as a feather.

4-23-14 5Rhythms Installation

Bring Your Compassionate Heart into Life Everyday

Amaze the Fuck out of YourSELF
Don't bother to worry about what others think.
At the end of your life, they won't have your regrets,
they will have their own to worry about
Put your arms around yourself as if you were your Loved Ones
and don't be ashamed to admit
you still would like a stuffed bunny, or doggy or owl
to sleep with at night
a pillow to cradle your fears and ambitions
and a place to whisper your dreams

Blow your Own Mind
Every single Day
Do something, anything, even if it is small
to please your soul.
Your soul is hungry, and she needs you
to sustain her throughout her lifetime.
Surprise yourself with kindness for yourself.

Be kind and gentle,
but don't confuse that with 
allowing others to use you as a doormat.
They can wipe their feet at the door on the way into Your self, or 
show them the door.

open Your heart
tear away the bonds that have held You prisoner
and release the weights that hold You underwater
and float to the top, towards the light and gasp for air
each and every day of Your life.

Eye Lock Switcharoo

When driving down the street, do you ever make eye contact with someone standing on the corner and really connect?  This morning I passed an elderly woman in a wheelchair with a young child waiting for a bus.  We made eye contact and smiled.  I wondered, what were the circumstances of her life that brought her to that moment.  Not just that morning, but from the moment of her inception to the moment our eyes locked?

What if in the blink of an eye we switched places?  And for an hour or a day or a week we could experience each other's lives.  Even if in our imaginations.

What if?

even there, there are dishes to wash

washing machine stops just as the dishwasher starts
a life so full of life
endless cooking and dishes and laundry
and family and friends that are family
and arms to hug and voices to sing and feet to dance and mouths to eat,
cinnamon goodies that crumble and get all over the place.
There is never enough time to do everything but you try
and your back hurts and your feet ache
and sometimes you miss the sunset, but
sometimes
sometimes
sometimes
sometimes you take time out to really see
the ocean and the mountains and a small town where the pace is
very slow
but even there, even there, even there
there are dishes to wash, laundry to fold,
cats to feed and pet and cuddle goodnight