Omens of the night . . . and surface serenity delights

On my walk to the Kendall Theatre last night to see Paul Giamatti in Cold Souls, I saw this stenciled image that was sprayed on the side of a building on Portland St. Spooky. This kind of anonymous message put out into the ether usually stops me cold and makes me think. I have some others, too—stenciled messages that speak to me from the sidewalks as I walk along.



To return to a former topic, "Energy in Completion," I must report that I did wash that window in my kitchen and then, using all my female enginuity (intuitive engineering) I was able to slide the AC along the floor and somehow lift it into the window. Within moments, the new, cooler air inside my apartment energized me so intensely, that I washed the other windows and re-arranged my entire space. I threw out a bunch of old junk mail that had accumulated and hid things away to create the first steps of organization which I call "surface serenity." Once surfaces are free of piles of magazines, papers, mail, etc., the air is cleaner, my head is clearer and if properly fueled, I can dig deeper to go below the surface and throw out more stuff. As I've said in my article Clutter Kills, clutter is like a virus that hides in those little corners that you overlooked when you thought your place was clean and organized. They patiently grow and multiply, soon to attack your sense of peace only hours or days after you've put your feet up to enjoy the seeming order around you.

My life has been a continuous struggle to make order out of chaos. And the conflict is that making art often means making chaos. With all my supplies and tools around me mid project, order disappears. I can feel myself revving up for some major creative project this fall. My pattern has always been to make order first, so that I can begin with a clean surface ready to receive the next mess.

And getting back to the thought provoking stenciled images above, if you want to see some moving images that will really get you thinking very deep thoughts at the same time that you're laughing, don't miss the movie. I loved it!

Energy in completion . . .

The humidity is peaking and I'm almost at the point of putting that old AC into the window. But first, I've got to wash the window. I've been procrastinating about that because I haven't had the energy to do it. Another circle. But today I bought extra paper towels in anticipation of finding the energy to take on the task. Several years ago when I had the drive to network like crazy, I went to a breakfast networking meeting once at week that started at the uncomfortable hour of 7 a.m. I remember someone there waxing rhapsodically about the "energy of completion." I've come to find my best defense against a collapse into a puddle of sweat and surrender during this heat wave is to do some tiny tasks that have been on my list for weeks: make a doctor's appointment for my annual check up, make that print of a photo I promised to a friend three months ago, work on my resume until it's current . . . wash my windows. I haven't got to the windows but I will, I know I will this weekend—heat wave or no heat wave. Those little actions have energized me and moved me forward enough to take on bigger and bigger tasks....but I'm not at the bigger tasks yet, still got to tackle a few more smaller ones, then some medium sized ones, and then, hopefully, the heat wave will be over and I'll have not only an inner momentum from small tasks completed, but also cooler air to move me forward.

Today I discovered the Dana Greenhouse Nursery which is part of the Arnold Arboretum—a local treasure I haven't visited in years. They offer classes to the general public on everything from pruning to raising Bonsai. They have a large wooden gazebo in which are housed some of the most astounding Bonsai I've ever seen. You can't go inside the gazebo, but you can look through the slatted open walls and take in the wonder of these collaborative works that combine the gifts of nature with human artistry to create miniature universes. It reminds me of how a balanced life must include the right combination of delayed gratification mixed with instant gratification. Certainly the Bonsai are in the realm of delayed gratification if one is going to create one from a tiny starter plant. But each day if we do one little small thing on our to-do lists, we get a bit more energy to keep going, and to keep tending to the other parts of our lives, the long term investments we make with our children, our art, our friendships, our health and well being. Enough of that philosophical meandering, it's time for some instant gratification—. J.P. Licks, here I come.

Speaking of those aesthetics of decay.....when instant gratification adds to entropy, here is today's image. It's a close up of the cracked white paint on the cross walk markings on Mass. Ave. Getting to the other side. From inertia to completion. Crossing the street is as good a place as any to start moving a body through space.

Thursday's walk . . . a little bit of everything

Don't have an overarching theme today, just some shots as I walked past Fenway Studios, then down Lansdowne Street (which is just across the street from Fenway Park) to the House of Blues to buy a ticket to the Regina Spektor (probably the most brilliant singer songwriter we've had in decades) concert coming up this September. As it turns out, I had to walk to the Orpheum to buy the tickets so it gave me a great excuse to head all the way down Commonwealth Avenue, across the Public Gardens, past the Swan boats, through Boston Commons, crossing Tremont and then to the Orpheum Box Office. The opening collage is a close up of a pole just a few feet down from the House of Blues on Landsdowne St. I couldn't resist including some of the leaf compositions, too. Enjoy.


Along Commonwealth Ave., the small gardens in front of the brownstones are lush with rich colors and textures that delight the eyes and lift the spirits.


And then, Public Gardens and the Swan Boats . . .

Circles in time and space . . .

Going back in time to those old corner soda shoppe days is pretty easy if you head over to Medford Square and sit yourself down in Colleen's Ice Cream & Soda Shop, 61 High St. Not only is her clock a circle, but so are the home baked cookies and, of course, those round scoops of ice cream made especially for Colleen's. The bright black and white decor has splashes of color. The soup and sandwich combos are great. My longest term friend, Penny—we met in 6th grade in Malden—and I often meet at Colleen's to catch up. We have a history from bicycle rides around the streets of Malden, circling all the way forward in time as we encourage each other in this transitional time of life (we're officially "senior citizens" but that bond that brought us together in the late 50s is as full of laughter as it was back then).


Another circle (below) popped out at me when I was walking yesterday on Arlington Street and saw this simple architectural detail.


And as for circles in the world of flowers, I've got a couple of those, too. The petal span of this pink/lavender colored flower is at least twelve inches! You can't appreciate that without seeing it in relation to the other flowers in the garden of the Old South Church on the corner of Boylston and Dartmouth Streets.




And here are a couple more circles—on the segue (sp?) that caught my eye.

Sweating Bodies fly above the mat . . .

Moving from the last post that connected the Diving Ducks Blues Band with the actual diving birds in the Winged Migration movie, today's images continue the theme of bodies moving through space. In formation like a flock of birds, these sweating bodies stretched together in a 100 degree room in Auburn, Mass this weekend at Bikram Yoga Auburn studio. The owner Sam Goldman hosted the event that brought seminar leader Diane Ducharme of West Roxbury's Bikram Yoga For You studio to lead over 50 Bikram Certified Yoga teachers through a 90 minute class followed by three hours of discussions about the challenges and rewards of teaching this healing series of 26 postures and two breathing exercises. You can link to an entire slide show from the event by visiting my mobile me gallery account and click "slide show" at the bottom of the window. It will take you through the day and most of the postures and give you a real sense of the sequence. Enjoy.

Diving Ducks . . . on film and in East Providence on the same day

Little did I know weeks ago when I ordered Winged Migration from Netflix, that on the very day it would arrive, I'd find myself at Two Jerks Pub and Grill in East Providence listening to the Diving Ducks Blues Band. Is that an instance of harmonic convergence or just a funny coincidence? A coincidence that didn't occur to me until sitting down to write tonight's blog entry and remembering a scene from the movie when one particular species of bird dramatically dives beak first into the water after its prey. The Diving Ducks Blues Band, however, has as its motto, "If the river was filled with whiskey . . .I'd be a diving duck."

The ride from Boston to Two Jerks was an easy one: straight down 95 to exit 2A onto 1A south, then right onto Waterman Ave, and there you are. Michael Forstadt and Koby Rosenbaum took over the Two Jerks in the spring of 2009. They increased their beer offerings and brought the live entertainment schedule from two nights to SIX nights - bringing in bands that play the Blues, Motown, R&B, Soul, Rock and Acoustic Rock.

Diving Ducks put on a great show with lead singer Tom wailing on a vast collection of harmonicas and belting out some classic blues arrangements with drummer, lead guitar, bass guitar all jamming together to create a classic blues beat that would have easily got me up on a dance floor if there was one. Pool tables, great burgers, all-you-can-eat popcorn, and a selection of munchies abound.

The play of lights on ceilings and walls kept time with the beat of the music and kept challenging me to find a way to record them. Gotta study that camera manual so that I get some better night shots the next time I'm there. Still I like the light patterns and wanted to share it with you.

And not to forget the diving birds in the movie Winged Migration, if you haven't seen it yet, you must absolutely rent it. I have never been so close to birds in flight. They used fan powered gliders to fly in formation with flocks of geese they "imprinted" from the moment the goslings hatched. Imprinting is a bonding with the first living being the newborn sees and takes that being —bird or human— to be the mother. Many, but not all of the birds in the film were trained to trust their caretakers, to follow them on land and in flight and as a result the perspective we see and feel is one as though we are one of the migrating birds flying over the Sahara or the Arctic circle. If you rent the film, be sure to watch all the special features where you learn how this film was made and how the loving imprinting was done. Patterns of light, patterns of flight, patterns of notes played in the night, it's all connected. A symphony of opportunity plays to us at every moment if we take the time to listen.

negation of the negation . . .

On a lesser scale than what Robert McKee had in mind when he borrowed the phrase "negation of the negation" to describe pushing a story past any point of predictable outcome in the midst of the highest possible conflict—in the photo above, Nature has found a way to negate the man-made confines of these metal walls that enclose a parking garage in Cambridge. The roots of this phrase go back to the Greek philosophers and have continued through the works of great thinkers. Engels said: "The law of the negation of the negation is a concrete form of the law of the unity of opposites, that is, the law of the struggle of opposites and the resolution of their contradiction." The film Pulp Fiction illustrates this concept when two warring characters— each on a mission to kill the other—are both captured by a third character who uses them in sadistic, life-threatening sexual games. One of the prisoners escapes, but returns to rescue his arch enemy. The two opposites have been bonded by their shared experience of being captured and tortured by the third character, bringing their conflict to an unexpected and satisfying resolution. That's enough philosophy for tonight, but I wouldn't have even thought about it if it weren't for taking a closer look at that garage wall as I ambled along toward the Kendall Theatre.