I was waiting for the rain to let up, the weather reports said it was "overcast" but if anything, it just kept raining harder. Eventually, I just had to make a run for the bus, and I was soaked when I got to the stop. As I waiting under the building awning, I noticed the woman several feet away, underdressed, bare-legged, flip-flops, also soaked, with some belongings in a garbage sack. I wondered if I should offer something, but I didn't really have anything. She caught the first bus at any rate.
The concert/dinner went well, though I kept having coughing fits; I always have trouble taking in breath after I have a cold, possibly a temporary form of asthma.
People hung out after the event was over, and helped clean up, including dishes. Someone offered me a ride, so I left. The rain began to let up. The clouds breaking up enough to reveal the sudden appearance of a bright, waxing, rising moon. We drove along the perimeter of the lake, site of the earlier pathway of lights that the neighborhood does every December, the light now extinguished, the crowds, dispersed.
Back home, one of my housemates has been making the house into a home, and continued that earlier in the evening, so I came home into a more pleasant living room, and they'd hung up some Christmas swag I'd made earlier but hadn't gotten around to hanging. It makes me happy in a way that has eluded me before, perhaps it's the motivation...hard to explain, like it's for everyone, not just for their own benefit? It's nice. (I don't really know who's doing it, though I could make a guess.)
Every time my mind wandered to "what ifs?" and "whys?", I stopped my thoughts and reminded myself that being here wasn't some substitute for anything else, not a distraction. I was exactly where I wanted to be.
Saturday, December 14, 2019
Eleven Days Until Christmas
I have a gig later this afternoon, and I should be there to help set up, but after running errands for the past couple of hours, I find I need a nap.
The days have been grey, cool, dark, damp. One of the market vendors thought it might clear up in a bit, and commented on looking forward to the winter solstice, to celebrate the brightening of days, if even in the smallest of increments. I was thinking a similar thing earlier in the morning. But as the morning progressed into early afternoon, the clouds thickened up and a light mist began to fall. I found I was taking shelter under a tree while waiting for a bus home that I'd written about sheltering under on another occasion. It's an old spruce tree with a wide and thick canopy that blocks the rain. A bit later, on the bus, the mists had turned to showers that looked a bit icy as they hit the windshield. I think it's let up again. Outside the window the mostly bare willow holds onto a few remaining leaves, their golden hue the only brightness against a monochrome sky.
I was sick for half of the week. Probably just a bad cold, but it hit at the same time as a stomache virus, and I was brutally sick on Wednesday. Didn't eat for two days, barely slept, though I tried to lay in the same position for about 16 hours, though the raging headache had mostly subsided by Thursday morning. I did a load of laundry on Thursday, that's about what I had the energy for. Went back to work on Friday, but my heart was racing, and a colleague suggested I should go to the doctor. I went at lunch, the nearest clinic where I have always found the doctors to be invariably kind. She told me to go home and go to bed. Not because I was still sick, just exhausted. I went home, a giant stuffed T-Rex guarding my work station in my absence, just because it was silly, and it stands at the right height to look over the counter.
The bright side about being sick (as usual), is that it's a bit of a forced elimination diet, and it really calms down the arthritis symptoms. Aside from the coughing fits, and sore abs (and still being tired), physically, I feel good.
The Saturday Market was quiet when I first walked through. I walked southward to run some other errands and look for Christmas gifts, the first block, every shop closed, but by the time I passed through the second one, small crowds waited outside the doors to be let in, and when I walked back through on my way home, every restaurant was full with a Saturday lunch crowd. And while I stopped by a lot of booths, when I got home, I found the only food I'd gotten around to purchasing some apples, a bag of kale, and a couple of ripe truffles. (I bought water bottles, too, they were on sale for $5.00.)
I feel on the mend. I lasted two hours without blowing my nose, in the cold no less. My speaking voice has dropped into a lower register, but I think I can still sing.
Outside, birds flock through the sky, and the winter-blooming plums break-out in spring-like pale pink, a brightener for the human heart in the darkest part of winter. Somewhere beyond the envelope of clouds, it's snowing, and the next time the skies clear, the mountains will be white in the distance in all directions. Until then, we practice the rituals that pass us from one season into the next.
The days have been grey, cool, dark, damp. One of the market vendors thought it might clear up in a bit, and commented on looking forward to the winter solstice, to celebrate the brightening of days, if even in the smallest of increments. I was thinking a similar thing earlier in the morning. But as the morning progressed into early afternoon, the clouds thickened up and a light mist began to fall. I found I was taking shelter under a tree while waiting for a bus home that I'd written about sheltering under on another occasion. It's an old spruce tree with a wide and thick canopy that blocks the rain. A bit later, on the bus, the mists had turned to showers that looked a bit icy as they hit the windshield. I think it's let up again. Outside the window the mostly bare willow holds onto a few remaining leaves, their golden hue the only brightness against a monochrome sky.
I was sick for half of the week. Probably just a bad cold, but it hit at the same time as a stomache virus, and I was brutally sick on Wednesday. Didn't eat for two days, barely slept, though I tried to lay in the same position for about 16 hours, though the raging headache had mostly subsided by Thursday morning. I did a load of laundry on Thursday, that's about what I had the energy for. Went back to work on Friday, but my heart was racing, and a colleague suggested I should go to the doctor. I went at lunch, the nearest clinic where I have always found the doctors to be invariably kind. She told me to go home and go to bed. Not because I was still sick, just exhausted. I went home, a giant stuffed T-Rex guarding my work station in my absence, just because it was silly, and it stands at the right height to look over the counter.
The bright side about being sick (as usual), is that it's a bit of a forced elimination diet, and it really calms down the arthritis symptoms. Aside from the coughing fits, and sore abs (and still being tired), physically, I feel good.
The Saturday Market was quiet when I first walked through. I walked southward to run some other errands and look for Christmas gifts, the first block, every shop closed, but by the time I passed through the second one, small crowds waited outside the doors to be let in, and when I walked back through on my way home, every restaurant was full with a Saturday lunch crowd. And while I stopped by a lot of booths, when I got home, I found the only food I'd gotten around to purchasing some apples, a bag of kale, and a couple of ripe truffles. (I bought water bottles, too, they were on sale for $5.00.)
I feel on the mend. I lasted two hours without blowing my nose, in the cold no less. My speaking voice has dropped into a lower register, but I think I can still sing.
Outside, birds flock through the sky, and the winter-blooming plums break-out in spring-like pale pink, a brightener for the human heart in the darkest part of winter. Somewhere beyond the envelope of clouds, it's snowing, and the next time the skies clear, the mountains will be white in the distance in all directions. Until then, we practice the rituals that pass us from one season into the next.
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
And from Spain
Spain. Hiking around in the heat.
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| Zubiri, Navarra. August 27/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| Navarra Morning. August 28/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| Sunflower Army, Navarra. August 29/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| Puenta la Reina, Navarra. August 30/L Herlevi, 2019 |
A couple pictures from late summer
France. Hiking across the Pyrenees.
Dawn in Orisson. I spent the night in a room underneath the deck. We each got a coin that ensured 5-minutes of shower time; there's limited water availability. I hadn't been sure I would be coming this way when I left home, but I put in a reservation request just the same. When I was able to access email, 2 days before my request date, I found I had an invoice to pay and a reservation. Between that and the G-7 closing the French border up near Irun (my original destination), that sealed the Pyrenees hike. And it's a tough crossing, but I probably could've done it in one day. As it was, I split it into two, Orisson, 8 kms up from St Jean Pied de Port. Hot, and 100% humidity; with air so thick that morning, you could barely see 20 feet in front of you. The Refuge at Orisson suddenly appearing out of the mists. The picture below is how it appeared later in the afternoon, once the mists had burned off. There was a family dinner at 7 pm, where everyone introduced themselves and what brought them here. At night, we'd left a window open, and moths and other insects attracted to the bathroom lights, collected inside. Ones you'd probably never see otherwise.
The second day was more dry, with a lot of wind. Full of herds of horses (which I'd hoped to see, and made the walk worth it), crowds of people walking, jeeps of armed security driving down the road, and a very steep descent into Roncesvalles, the first village in Spain. I was tired and happy to get a bed when I arrived. I got a top bunk, but a woman I'd met in Orisson, remembered that top bunks were hard for me, and traded with me, without my asking.
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| Orisson, August 26/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| Orisson, August 25/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| French Pyrenees, August 26/L Herlevi 2019 |
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| French Pyrenees, August 26/L Herlevi 2019 |
New Season
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| Day 16 |
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| Day One |
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| About 16-days old, each day new insults, but it hasn't collapsed |
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| A few days old, drying out from heat in house |
We ate pumpkin and apple-cider donuts, then traipsed down to the muddiest bottom of the fields, to look at the biggest pumpkins. All of us sinking into the mud, pumpkins rotting in the field, as we tried to wrest other pumpkins from the vines. And then one of the housemates met us with a wheelbarrow to lug the chosen squash out of the mud patch and up the hill to the pay window. Moving through as if in quicksand, sinking down with every step. Scrubbed the mud off, then packed our mud-covered selves into the car again to go home. As soon as we started driving, the rain came down in sheets again.
Our shoes remain in the mud room, caked in mud.
We carved them the following night, one of the other housemates documenting the process for his anthropology class, as some local seasonal rite he'd never experienced before.
On Halloween we sat in the living room hoping for trick-or-treaters, but only got a handful brave enough to come to our house. Still, it's been nice to have a social household again.
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Ah, summer
The exuberant feeling of daylight: the sun has already risen, and you don't have to get up yet, that there is time for everything, and life is expansive.
Lying in bed watching the light on the walls, looking at the brilliant white, wispy clouds and the bit of willow tree I can see swaying in a slight breeze, and feeling mesmerized in the moment. And the then the moment passes, and I really do need to get up.
Making rice (for lunch), and changing out the shower curtain, because lately, every time it gets moved, it leaves a film on the side of the tub. I was scrubbing that off, the old curtain on down, the new one in a pile at another point in the floor, when my housemate stands at the door in his underpants asking me (perhaps rightly so), "Can't you do this later?" At that point, no. It was 7 am. Early, but when I had the energy (and it was cool enough to make any exertion in the house. And, I'll point out, I'm the only one in the house that cleans that tub, I couldn't deal with the grime anymore.)
It's so much cleaner now.
Anyway, this E.E. Cummings poem has been running through my head this morning:
i thank thee God for this most amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
(i who have died am alive again today,
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
(now the ears of my ears awake and
Lying in bed watching the light on the walls, looking at the brilliant white, wispy clouds and the bit of willow tree I can see swaying in a slight breeze, and feeling mesmerized in the moment. And the then the moment passes, and I really do need to get up.
Making rice (for lunch), and changing out the shower curtain, because lately, every time it gets moved, it leaves a film on the side of the tub. I was scrubbing that off, the old curtain on down, the new one in a pile at another point in the floor, when my housemate stands at the door in his underpants asking me (perhaps rightly so), "Can't you do this later?" At that point, no. It was 7 am. Early, but when I had the energy (and it was cool enough to make any exertion in the house. And, I'll point out, I'm the only one in the house that cleans that tub, I couldn't deal with the grime anymore.)
It's so much cleaner now.
Anyway, this E.E. Cummings poem has been running through my head this morning:
i thank thee God for this most amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
E.E. Cummings
(Interesting blog post on the poem, here:https://artandtheology.org/2016/04/27/i-thank-you-god-for-most-this-amazing-by-e-e-cummings/)
Sunday, March 10, 2019
Sunday
So, it's Lent, and after church, we met and planned our funerals...well, at least started to. Much more fun than it sounds. Several of us couldn't narrow it down to three songs, so we'll probably just have singing. Maybe a verse. Definitely a poem or two for me, at the moment I'm leaning toward, "When Death Comes" by Mary Oliver. If only for the reason that I like the idea that Death would open his purse, and pull out all his bright coins to pay for me. That Death would find me worth paying for. Songwise, I think I was past 10. Someone next to me decided she wanted chocolate cake served. I mentioned she could have a signature cocktail. Who decided how funerals should be anyway? If no one comes, it'll just be some paid organist playing a bunch of songs. The point of it all was that it saves your loved ones the stress of having plan a funeral/memorial and maybe not knowing what your wishes were.
The sun's out. Though it was clear and frosty when I woke up, it's not particularly cold out now. Tired of being cold, all I do is sleep. It snowed again on Friday, not much, but it has felt like we have had a "real" winter this year. First one I can remember. (And I like winter and snow, I'm just tired of being cold. The heat at work hasn't really been working for months now.)
Yesterday, I made bone broth; ran some errands, finally disinfected my mouth guard, have been avoiding it because last time I wore it I had strep, and was afraid it had mutated into some superbug. Watched a movie that was due back. Also attended a workshop on political advocacy, particularly around homelessness, but it applies across the board.
The washer stopped working after I'd put all the clothes I can wear to work in it. Surprisingly, my landlord came by late to fix it (10 ish?) and ran my laundry while I was sleeping. I woke up in the middle of the night to hang it to dry, so at least I had pants to wear to work.
I'm singing at a benefit gala next week, and we have new music (hard, but cool, music) for a concert someone left an endowment for when they passed away. The Finnish choir had it's big event (Kalevala Day) last weekend. It was the best one we've done, even if the audience was small. We have a couple weeks off, might have something coming up in the spring. I missed the Generals again. Really need to get some monologues down, also, need a new headshot as I chopped off all my hair in January
Magnolias had begun to bloom down near the Market a week ago, and this morning I saw plum trees beginning to blossom. Gonna go out and enjoy the sun.
The sun's out. Though it was clear and frosty when I woke up, it's not particularly cold out now. Tired of being cold, all I do is sleep. It snowed again on Friday, not much, but it has felt like we have had a "real" winter this year. First one I can remember. (And I like winter and snow, I'm just tired of being cold. The heat at work hasn't really been working for months now.)
Yesterday, I made bone broth; ran some errands, finally disinfected my mouth guard, have been avoiding it because last time I wore it I had strep, and was afraid it had mutated into some superbug. Watched a movie that was due back. Also attended a workshop on political advocacy, particularly around homelessness, but it applies across the board.
The washer stopped working after I'd put all the clothes I can wear to work in it. Surprisingly, my landlord came by late to fix it (10 ish?) and ran my laundry while I was sleeping. I woke up in the middle of the night to hang it to dry, so at least I had pants to wear to work.
I'm singing at a benefit gala next week, and we have new music (hard, but cool, music) for a concert someone left an endowment for when they passed away. The Finnish choir had it's big event (Kalevala Day) last weekend. It was the best one we've done, even if the audience was small. We have a couple weeks off, might have something coming up in the spring. I missed the Generals again. Really need to get some monologues down, also, need a new headshot as I chopped off all my hair in January
Magnolias had begun to bloom down near the Market a week ago, and this morning I saw plum trees beginning to blossom. Gonna go out and enjoy the sun.
Friday, February 8, 2019
Later that weekend
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| Pathways, Feb 4/L Herlevi, 2019 |
On Sunday, we got the first of our snowstorms. Shut down work through Tuesday, And we're having our second snowstorm as I type. Work only had a half day. It's pretty. Snow is in the forecast at least through next Thursday. It hardly ever snows here.
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| Birch Trees at the Lake, Feb 4/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Trees, Feb 4/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Rosehips, Feb 4/L Herlevi, 2019 |
Also on Saturday
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| Into the new tunnel, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Battery St Tunnel, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| The last to pass through, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Out on the Viaduct, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
Thursday, February 7, 2019
Early on Saturday
Went to the ID with a friend to check out the Wing Luke Museum's event for the Chinese New Year. They had lion dances outside in the street, and I think dragons, too. I couldn't really see over the crowd. We were both planning on coming back for the bigger, district-wide celebration this weekend, but there is a big snowstorm in the forecast, so, glad we made it.
Here's a few pictures of that.
Here's a few pictures of that.
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| How I saw the action, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Lion(?) looks in the window, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Firecrackers, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Firecrackers, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| A face in the crowd, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Tai Tung, Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
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| Walking up King St., Feb 2/L Herlevi, 2019 |
Thursday, January 3, 2019
A new year
Lying around listening to the radio, and further off, a flock of geese calling out as they circle overhead. It's another dark day (weatherwise), I think the rain has started up again. Did the only thing I had to do earlier today (pick up mail), detoured home by way of the garden, found it resting mostly; artichoke plants thriving, calendula healthy and in flower (not a spot of powdery mildew to be found now) due to the wet, and very mild "cold" season. Got back home before the rain started up again. Three-and-a-half days left of vacation. No longer sick.
Yesterday, went downtown early (ish) to renew driver's license, return a pair of slippers, and pay a bill. The whole license process took less than 20 minutes, in spite of being the day after a holiday. Biggest change (and it is a huge change) was that all of our license numbers have been updated, so have to memorize a new one, after all this time. Went to REI to use my dividend, intending to get a water bottle, but ended up with a long wool sweater instead, the price was pretty close (why are water bottles so expensive?!) And then went to Glazer's Camera to buy some film, been ages since I shot film, been itching to shoot some, and had been one of the things I wanted to do during the time off. I have yet to load it into a camera, tomorrow, perhaps. It's raining in earnest now.
Finally made it to a couple of movies, Alfonso Cuaron's "Roma" and Hirokazu Kore-eda's "Shoplifters." Both of them being more slow-burning, meandering films following the lives of a maid and the family she serves in early 1970's Mexico City (Roma), and a chosen family of shoplifters in Japan (Shoplifters), both, in a way, about "family" and how one defines and finds their place within. "Roma" was shot in b/w, and is the most beautiful cinematography I've ever seen. "Shoplifters" got under my skin, and has really stayed with me, there was no resolution. There is a certain honor in the choices, even if under the rule of law and civil society, they were wrong, such as when the "father", when asked by authorities why he taught the children how to shoplift, replies, "I don't know anything else to teach them." What they have is the love that binds them, and the secrets kept that (possibly, we never really know for sure) break those bonds apart.
Walked the labyrinth again this year (I had told some people about it earlier in the day, and so had company this year). I didn't find any resolution, like I had last year (but maybe I didn't need it, and sometimes action is discipline for it's own sake. I have things I'm coming to terms with, but I think it'll be a longer process, and I'm okay with that.) Also, I found a place to burn things to let go of, but the paper caught fire so quickly, I ended up dropping it on the floor, and letting it burn itself up there because I wasn't wearing shoes. Luckily, the floor wasn't flammable, and I didn't burn anything down; when the flame had burned itself out, I picked up what was left of the paper and dropped it in the sand. Later, I caught a bus to a party in Lake City, and came home before midnight because another friend was tired and driving home early, and I was able to get a ride home. I fell asleep before midnight. Went for a group walk in the chilly morning, but it just felt like any other day.
Life churns onward. Happy New Year.
Yesterday, went downtown early (ish) to renew driver's license, return a pair of slippers, and pay a bill. The whole license process took less than 20 minutes, in spite of being the day after a holiday. Biggest change (and it is a huge change) was that all of our license numbers have been updated, so have to memorize a new one, after all this time. Went to REI to use my dividend, intending to get a water bottle, but ended up with a long wool sweater instead, the price was pretty close (why are water bottles so expensive?!) And then went to Glazer's Camera to buy some film, been ages since I shot film, been itching to shoot some, and had been one of the things I wanted to do during the time off. I have yet to load it into a camera, tomorrow, perhaps. It's raining in earnest now.
Finally made it to a couple of movies, Alfonso Cuaron's "Roma" and Hirokazu Kore-eda's "Shoplifters." Both of them being more slow-burning, meandering films following the lives of a maid and the family she serves in early 1970's Mexico City (Roma), and a chosen family of shoplifters in Japan (Shoplifters), both, in a way, about "family" and how one defines and finds their place within. "Roma" was shot in b/w, and is the most beautiful cinematography I've ever seen. "Shoplifters" got under my skin, and has really stayed with me, there was no resolution. There is a certain honor in the choices, even if under the rule of law and civil society, they were wrong, such as when the "father", when asked by authorities why he taught the children how to shoplift, replies, "I don't know anything else to teach them." What they have is the love that binds them, and the secrets kept that (possibly, we never really know for sure) break those bonds apart.
Walked the labyrinth again this year (I had told some people about it earlier in the day, and so had company this year). I didn't find any resolution, like I had last year (but maybe I didn't need it, and sometimes action is discipline for it's own sake. I have things I'm coming to terms with, but I think it'll be a longer process, and I'm okay with that.) Also, I found a place to burn things to let go of, but the paper caught fire so quickly, I ended up dropping it on the floor, and letting it burn itself up there because I wasn't wearing shoes. Luckily, the floor wasn't flammable, and I didn't burn anything down; when the flame had burned itself out, I picked up what was left of the paper and dropped it in the sand. Later, I caught a bus to a party in Lake City, and came home before midnight because another friend was tired and driving home early, and I was able to get a ride home. I fell asleep before midnight. Went for a group walk in the chilly morning, but it just felt like any other day.
Life churns onward. Happy New Year.
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