make beauty necessary. make necessity beautiful

jigg'n nova scotia days

2008-09-08T08:38:00.000-07:00

day 7 (?) now of my life as an Otesha nomad.
This past week has been a whirl-wind of new faces, new thoughts and ideas, and new places...
if I could describe the trip this far...I would....but I will make due presently by writing these following words to sum up all of the bursting things inside of me...
courage
transformation
intentionality (is this a word..if not...let's pretend)
courage
feeling every fibre in my body

we have spent the past couple of days in an intensive training week for the upcoming bike tour...we cycle out tomorrow! our first stint is 55kms. a big distance for our first go.
the week has consisted of team discussions and consensus-building acitivies...play practice...skinny dipping...camping in hurricane weather ...biking...biking....stretching...biking...cliff-bar snacking...and irish jig dancing...(check out "the smok'n contras").....!

everything requires such an intentional spirit...maslow's heirarchy is very much on my mind here...as most of my time is spend meeting my body's basic needs...keeping dry...eating well...keeping spirits up...

all I can say is I feel healthy and alive...everyone has flushed-rosey cheeks and fresh eyes...and I feel so very present in every moment...something that my confused and anxious heart is in desperate need of.

Here's a snippet of my journal...(apologies for spelling/grammar errors)

sept 2nd..10pmish...
I'm officially welcomed by Otesha. After squirming around in my very small tent for much too long, I find myself with some time to write a few thoughts and things to remember. The reflections and shillouettes of large-creepers dance around on the outside of my tent as i write. This may interfere with my abilities to sleep here with ease.
We arrived in Halifax 4 nights ago. After a the train ride I am feeling quite bonded to my travelling parteners. Together we have sung folk tunes together of candlelight, had many a delicious beer, moved in and out of an apartment and faced the challenges of preparing for our two-month bike trip.
The mountaing are enourmous and my thighs need some coaxing and methodical mental power to cycle them through the inclines. I have never known such immense inclines. On our first ride together I proceeded to fall off my bicycle, fully-loaded because I wasn't yet adjusted to my toe-clip-ins. Thus, my wrist is a wee bit soar from the fall.
Our first stop is training week, taking place at an Urban-Agriculture learning centre. The founder (and generational land-keeper) told us vivd stories of life here in the 19th century...about a woman (her grandmother) who burried here unsuccesful bread in the garden, to find it risen like a giant mushroom in the soil the next morning...about folk-lore of the "old hags" that haunt East-Coasters at night..pinning them down in their beds and vanishing through the walls. The farm-keeper told us that she desperately wanted to communicate with the "old hags" of her house...offering them paper and a typewriter to compose messages.

Everyone seems to be full of life here...or at least willing to face adventure.
I'm strangely positive...
I am so very present here.

....

more to come
wishing peace and winds to push you in the right direction...

boat lute dent

2008-08-07T20:26:00.000-07:00

since the last post was all about poetry...
perhaps we can have some audience participation.
can anyone make a little poem out of these scrabble words?

lute
boat
dent
lune
want

hehe.

Free Spirit Days Over?

2008-08-07T19:55:00.000-07:00

Today is August 7th. Pretty much 20 days before I embark on my little adventure across the east coast. Two months of cycling awaits me...and I'm sure many many days of back cramps, sweat patches, and rainy clouds hanging over my head. I'm sure these months will also hold amazing vistas, inspiring people...and perhaps a shift of perspective..and a new take on the road ahead? I think so.
Every time I think about the fact that this happening in less than a month my stomach flips a little bit...and I start to think about how I can start waterproofing everything I own.
I said goodbye to my wee "free spirit" vintage bike yesterday...sad party. I really felt like we had a bond considering we were both babes of 1985.
Should I write it a wee poem?...a eulogy?

O, royal blue
I rode you
even when I had the flu
Your spokes and grease
gave me limited peace
now you are back with John
that Slovakian pawn (broker)
Fare thee well
and never do tell
of those secret late night trips
where we found ourselves ill-equipped
to....fall in love with each other...

hmmm...that was less than mediocre.

apologies free spirit.

So, I would love to post photos...but I am missing my camera cord....so as soon as that is found, I will share.

On another note...The Ocean awaits! I'm excited to dip my feet in salty water and smell the Halifax air...

Wendell Berry writes a sweet little poem about the ocean and a farmer...
here is a portion:

The sea always arriving,
hissing in pebbles, is breaking
its edge where the landsman
squats on his rock. The dark
of the earth is familiar to him,
close mystery of his source
and end, always flowering
in the light and always
fading. But the dark of the sea
is perfect and strange,
the absence of any place,
immensity on the loose.
-Wendell Berry

hmmm...wendell...you sweet old man, you.

More to come.

The New Speak.....

2008-03-17T19:03:00.000-07:00

The Lipstick of 2008

2008-01-11T09:20:00.001-08:00

Random.

Steff the Sauna Builder.

2008.

Lips.

Dancing Heads.

Notice the Delicious Crumb in the Foreground.

The Windy City: II

2008-01-11T09:07:00.000-08:00

J and the Dots.

This...

is this!

i want one.

Sean's Art.

The Windy City

2008-01-10T23:03:00.000-08:00

spiiiiiral.

neon.

black and white at the museum of contemporary art.

bikes.

chicago fire escapes.

accordian player.

snakes.

oh my! you should eat.

Cashew! Gesundhiet!

Clown Chapeaux

To be Inside a Belly

Lene

Alternative Grounds

2008-01-10T22:18:00.000-08:00

I've discovered a place of peace.
Get up.
Stick my head under the tap.
Burn some Uncle Ted's Tasty Poridge.
Listen to news about the Kremlin.
Walk back and forth between the back door, my bedroom, the back door, my bedroom.
Gather up courage to leave the house.
Make my way past the train tracks.
Past the wolf graffiti.
Past the smiling school bus driver.
Get angry with the wind for blowing my head inside out.
Enter favorite coffee shop.
Verb+noun= poetry
Peace.
and Hope.
and a refreshing laugh-er sitting close by.
and pear-ginger juice to be spilled all over my books.
and opportunities for friendship.
One taken.
One feared.
Semi-satisfied smile and exit.
Give those "Hidden Cameras" a second chance.
Smile at the "DrinkWater Hardware" Store.
Wave at the exercisers in the window front.
Get on with life.
as if never inspired or anxious about the future.
thoughts and thoughts and thoughts.
sane and insane.
fall asleep to images of cirque de soliel dancers performing the shape of a bunk bed.
get tossed around by giant waves. crash onto a rocky shore.
dream and dream and dream. and recall. and recite.
and imagination begins in an ending.

the streets of toronto

2007-10-03T21:14:00.000-07:00

(This photo: he was walking along University
Ave...singing loudly to himself...his shirt is
decorated with roosters and soccer balls)

Thoughts from my day:
I've been struggling with the concept of 'home' lately. Finding peace and happiness in a city, or house, or community...or any sort of space...is hard to find for me lately.

I feel selfish and restless somedays...and on others Im content and comfortable with this time and place in my life. Im finding inspiring people, friendly people, beige people, awkward people, people who hum mozart on the street, people who want to join the circus, people in motorcycle gangs, drunk people, people who are fulfilling their dreams and just 'doing' (a concept i find hard to implement into my life).

I find myself at York looking at all the potential friends and aquaintences...looking around Bloor Street at all the faces of refugees, fashion gurus, homeless... looking around Symington Ave at the old Portugese women sweeping their driveways, the Persian women watering their gardens, and the Italian men pruning their small backyard vineyards (There is a river of grape juice flowing in my back alley way...remnants from wine making?).

There are so many STORIES and EXPERIENCES and PEOPLE. ---im itching for communion with HUMANITY. I dont really know what this means..but I do know that I want to share my life and my stories. I want to be apart of a universal humanity swap. Does this exist? I hope Im not crazy.

(Comment on the photos: they are randomly placed...interesting things I have seen over the last few weeks)

Painting the Roses Red

2007-08-09T19:40:00.000-07:00

As a gift to one of our host families, Natalie and I decided to paint a mural on one of their bedroom walls.

Here is little Diana helping Natalie speed up the process... some photos:

After we painted the walls blue we took advantage of the wonderful backdrop:

Resulting in a ridiculous night of writing thought bubbles on the wall (what else better to do on a friday night?)

Natalie: "How can I be a freespirit today?"

John: "Give me a beso"

Jenna: "MOof"

Nick: setting fire to "yesteryear"

Oh how I love these people.

Guatemalan Glory: A Photo Update on my Travels in Guatemala

2007-08-04T11:41:00.000-07:00

A Contemplative Diana (Daughter of my host family)

Double chinned Jennifer Soria (the daughter of my host family) and myself: grins upon arrival. I lived with this family (a single mom and her two daughters) two years ago. Its lovely to be tickeled by these girls again.

A Holiday Face: This book has captured me...Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels...please read it.

Natalie and I: Our view of three mountains and one errupting volcano...we woke to puffs of smoke every morning.

Entrance to our Lodgings for the Weekend...Tree House: a little cabin located in a giant tree overlooking the above view. Frig. I didnt want to leave. Sweet solace.

Back to Real Life: The Market...crabs on a fence...the market is full of wonderful pictures.

Tomato Angles

Chili Piquante

Everything is for sale: rusty tools, eight tracks, and used construction helmets. (Blade??!!)

Guatemalan Cowboys gather to sell their animals in Chimaltenango.

Contrasts: 2d idealism vs 3d reality

She's in there...and she's under lock and key. I suppose this was a mistranslation.

Foosball in Guatemala?

....More to come...