this yuck that has attacked my immune system?
it's goin' down.
i don't have time for this.
for the next 30 days, this mama, and the chop,
does not have health insurance.
(prayers for health appreciated.)
19 more days of living on the edge, people.
ten plus nine more days of wrapping the boy in bubble-wrap
from head to toe
and making sure his mouth guard is in place.
a little more than half a month for the state to believe that, in fact,
trader joe's is really not covering me anymore.
so sure, i'll drink to my health.
filtered water only, please.
and could you pass me an apple?
to see my 2014 one-a-day project unfold, click here.
to see photos from the other fabulous people who are taking the journey with me,
click here.
my legs were shaking as i stood up in the dinghy.
i put my clunky boot on the metal support bar of the wind vane,
grasped the rail tightly, and
pulled myself up and over
the rigging and down into the cockpit.
i carefully climbed up and walked along the side toward the bow,
holding onto nothing.
i still have my sea legs.
i secured my footing and balanced on the deck.
lifting my gaze, i was taken by
the reflection of the shoreline.
i smiled and felt the cold, damp air on my face.
the stillness of the night and the
dark, arms of the trees illustrated the
ache i have felt in my heart as of late.
the glass-like water moved with nereid,
allowing her to slightly rock in the water.
movement: not good for taking photos in the dark.
i lifted my camera, took a deep breath
and held it in.
*click*
it wasn't what i expected.
it isn't the capture i had intended.
i think it is even better.
the end of a year.
the beginning of another.
this night, this cove. the gentle rocking of the boat.
this deep friendship that picks up where we always leave off.
all fueling my heart's meditation to be open to the surprises
and challenges that await.
the most magical day of december: christmas eve.
you can feel it in the air;
feel it in your energy;
in your heart.
it's not about the presents.
it's about people.
it's about the love.
near and far.
merry christmas.
a little bit of chocolate as we count each
unopened, tiny door.
six days.
six wake-ups and santa will have been here.
six.
six days until paprikash fills our bellies
as we savor the last days before the new year.
oh gosh…you gorgeous moon that tugs at our heart and logic.
it was nice to see you as i walked along the brick streets and waterfront of
fell's point on this almost-solstice eve.
you sweet, swoony moon that holds promises and dreams.
having a furry being in the house forces one to get out.
look around.
breathe.
and maybe even find a reason to be in awe of colors
and textures
and lines.
and perhaps find some love left by a stranger
for another stranger
like you.
presents from santa are wrapped and hidden well.
tamales, bourbon, and snuggly puppy make me warm
while hoots and hellmouth do their thing through my speakers.
goodness.
wrap it around you.
breathe it in.
wear it in a parade down your street
while singing at the top of your lungs.
your breath, hot and smoky in the cold christmas air.
the last two days have been so stellar.
i have nothing to say and everything to say.
so if you want to hear about it, call me.
or not.
just roll around in these images and then go.
go find some magic in your incredible day.
or night.
peace out.
(until tomorrow).
try one bean.
that was all i asked him to eat.
then..i caved and asked for only half of a bean.
dipped in maple syrup.
half of a bean became one quarter
with a meatball chaser and only a few tears.
veggies.
jeez…
followed by pirates,
opening the christmas cards that came in the mail,
and digging out the ornaments from last year.
the beans forgotten.
screen printing at the tool library happened tonight.
creating within this amazing, creative community makes me so stinking happy.
my hands are covered in paint. and i love it.
new plans are happening for 2014.
i feel like anything can happen, really.
and i am going for it.
it all begins with moments like tonight.
