Sunday, October 11, 2009

Giving Thanks for Life In Its Entirety

"A great photograph is a full expression of what one feels about what is being photographed in the deepest sense, and is, thereby, a true expression of what one feels about life in its entirety."
- Ansel Adams
Yesterday afternoon D. and I spent over two hours exploring Ottawa's Experimental Farm with our cameras in hand - he his digital SLR focusing on homework for this term's photography class, I with my point & shoot focusing on creative inspiration and play.

It was magic for my soul.

For the past month - time at Squam Art Workshops excepted - I've been in a pretty powerful funk that on most days, left me drained of energy with a view of the world through very dark glasses. Yesterday was one of the first times I ventured out for a trek longer than the one to my local coffee shop or grocery store. At one point during my outing, I found myself deeply immersed into photographing cornstalks, oblivious to the world around me, grinning ear to ear (no pun intended). When I deemed I'd captured enough corn photos I skipped down the road to catch up with D.

I skipped. Down the road. With my trusty little point & shoot in hand and pigtails in my hair. And in that moment I felt free of the weight that's been dragging me down for the past several weeks.

Yesterday I felt good about life in its entirety and for that I am grateful. I leave you with a few photos that helped make it so.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Love,
Steph

xo


cow crossing

étude de corn stalk 01 of 29

elongated shadow

noble chartreuse

cow and Canada Post Headquarters

ochre on blue sky

Monday, October 5, 2009

Back to Basics

I've been quiet here as of late. The last two weeks have found me feeling depleted of energy with barely enough to get me through the day at the office, let alone work on anything demanding even an ounce of brain power here at home.

When I feel like that I know it's time to scale back to basics, so for the past few weeks I did just that.

Basics no doubt vary from one person to another and although they'll most likely shift depending on one's life circumstances, I tend to gravitate towards a few standards:

Sleep. Power naps after work on weekdays, morning or afternoon naps on weekends, early bedtime all around. I make a point to stay away from anything that gets my mind into high gear before going to bed and try to give myself at least an hour to transition from high-functioning wake to sleep.

Morning pages. A practice introduced to me by Julia Cameron in The Artist's Way 10 years ago, I strive to write them on a daily basis. When I fall off the wagon I notice; I get cranky and easily overwhelmed. On the flip side, when I do them I feel more centered and at peace. Sometimes sleep trumps my morning pages, but I can only sacrifice the pages for so long before the benefits brought by an extra half hour of shut-eye are lost.

Food. Not just any food but decent, as-healthy-as-possible meals. On some days it means two toasts with a piece of cheese for dinner, on others it means ordering a quarter chicken meal with sweet potato fries from a favourite (healthy!) restaurant or temporarily carbing up on Pad Thai. It's all about keeping it simple and as healthy as possible without too much pressure for perfection.

Water. It's easy for me to forget my daily quota of H2O yet it helps with energy and mental clarity. Drinking water is a habit; often it's simply a question of remembering to have a glass by my side for easy sipping.

Quiet/couch time. This is time spent reading a book or a magazine, enjoying a favourite movie or something completely different borrowed from the library, or just hanging out with D. and Cassie. It may involve the odd bowl of chips and for the most part, it involves being curled up in a wool blanket.

A clean house. Home is my foundation. It's where I seek comfort and a space to lay my weary body, mind and soul. When all I see are dirty clothes and fur balls the size of watermelons I feel frazzled, which is not the state of mind I want to create for myself or for others who share my space. So bit by bit as energy levels allow, I tackle the piles and the fur balls - one sock and one dark corner at a time.

Computer-free time. Yesterday I experimented with not turning on my PC. Initially I thought I'd leave it off until late afternoon or after dinner, but about halfway through the morning I silently declared (read: tentatively committed to it without making it known so I could back out at any time) the day to be entirely computer-free. It was an enlightening and productive experiment that allowed me more time to take care of basics listed above. I might touch on this more in a later post.

Although these things may seem simple and easy to accomplish, they can be easy to forget and sometimes difficult to carry through.

When scaling back, one of the hardest things for me to accept is that I might - scratch that, will - miss out on something else. It takes a lot of practice for me to let go of creative projects, toss out expectations and pause for rest and recuperation. Ultimately though it comes down to the price I'm willing to pay for my health and in turn, the health of my relationships. And when I do scale back, I'm rarely disappointed with the results.

Tell me, what are your Basics?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Trust to Thy Heart

"Feeling is deep and still;
and the word that floats on the surface

Is as the tossing buoy,
that betrays where the anchor is hidden.
Therefore, trust to thy heart,
and to what the world calls illusions."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie

So sensuous are his words they make me run my fingers along the page with longing, oblivious to the world around me.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Transition from Squam

playing with clayboard and pastels

I'm having trouble finding the words to write about my experience at Squam this year.

There were no earth-shattering epiphanies like last year. There was no breakthrough achievement of driving solo to NH in my little Civic to join a camp full of strangers for art making. There is no all-encompassing high to carry me through these first few days back at the office.


There is contentment, fatigue and uncertainty about what comes next. Sometimes there is even a disconnect, wondering if it really happened at all.

But it did happen.

Because there were gentle insights, and smiles and hugs. There were reunions, tears of joy and the witnessing of transformation before my very eyes. There was much, much laughter. There were silent tears in the forest, comfort in deepening friendships, and exuberance in song. There was celebration, growth and art. There were chilly nights by the fire, stars on the dock, and honest conversation. There were pauses and snapshots along the journey to capture the moment.


I don't know how to process this yet, why the disconnect or where to go from here. But maybe that's OK. This is my transition space; there'll be plenty of time for specifics later.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Signing off...

lanterns at Havenwood cabin - Squam 2008

... for a week of play in the woods of New Hampshire (that's two weeks playing in the woods in less than a month - lucky me!).

See you on the flip side!

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Cottage Comforts

I thought I'd share a few snippets of last week's cottage getaway comforts...

view from the dock

outdoor art - kindred spirits were here!

a favourite spot in the screened in porch

fuel for warmth on chilly September nights

comfort was curling up on that couch with a book
in front of a crackling fire


beauty in the small touches

moose on a ledge full of cottage trinkets

I didn't get a good picture, but I was smitten with the contents of their Billy bookcase library. Who wouldn't be with titles like "The Amateur Naturalist's Handbook", "Silent Spring" by Rachel Carson and "A Country-Lover's Guide to Wildlife" - not to mention all the field guides: birds, animal tracks, trees, reptiles, insects, to name a few.

Sigh, kindred spirits and comfort indeed. Is it any wonder I didn't want to leave? :)

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Seeking: A Lighter Shade of Grey

morning sun and mist on Bennett Lake

I have dipped in a post-vacation slump. Les bleus. Blah.


Last week’s stay at the cottage was balm for the soul. Blissful. With no obligations or schedule, it gave me space to breathe and escape the to-do’s of the previous weeks and those of the weeks to come.

I read. I slept. I curled up by the fire and fell asleep on the couch. I paddled around the lake with D. I let the bird geek in me shine. I re-connected with nature, simple and country living. I discovered that I’m not always comfortable with the night when there’s no ambient noise or light. I attempted to reconcile with the night by listening to its sounds, stargazing and cultivating a curiosity for what goes on while we sleep. I observed. I logged our activities and wildlife sightings in my journal. I ate chips - a lot of chips. I went to bed at 9:30pm and woke up at 7:30am, eager to discover what the lake and its surroundings had to offer each morning. I lounged on the dock in the sun and did nothing. I hung out with D. in comfortable silence. I hiked a new-to-me trail in Algonquin Park. I heard a wolf howl for the first time under a moonlit sky, accompanied by 800 fellow wolf howl enthusiasts. I scored some books at not one, but two used bookstores. I spent time with Sis, Bro-in-Law and a dear man who inspires with his love of life. I experienced contentment. I experienced anxiety. I experienced peace.

Today I feel tired and frazzled, dipping into a familiar territory I am reluctant to acknowledge. After last week’s colourful high, these past few days have been a shade of grey that’s quickly becoming darker in contrast. So today I’m allowing myself to rest, rest and see what balm my soul needs to bring back some colour - or at least a lighter shade of grey 'cause really, grey can be beautiful too:

lake dancers in the mist