mountain climbers

one of the funnest activities we engaged in on our couples camping weekend (aside from couples napping and couples eating of delicious food) was the couples climb to the top of a mountain.

it's called 'the crack' which is a name that makes me uncomfortable because i am 12 and because there are no small number of hilarious opportunities to use its name for witty and embarrassing jokes. journey up the crack!

it's a 4 hour hike, almost half of which is some degree of upwards. during the final leg you climb/scamper/drag yourself up and over large, tumbled boulders to one of the most spectacular views i've seen in my lifetime.

we had snacks up there, consulted a map of the area, and hung around, feeling like the wilderness was limitless and we were at its summit.

it was good to go early as we hardly saw anyone save for another couple and a small adorable family (complete with dog and young child in backpack), but passed quite a few on the way back. we also saw black bears barreling through the woods beside us which felt exciting and rare.

sometimes i like to force myself to answer random either/or propositions. if i had to choose mountains or ocean, for instance, what would i choose. although i need to do more research this trek was one strong push in the direction of mountains. rocks formed billions of years ago, before plants or animals even existed, and here i am jumping about them with all my energy and might.

okay, great, yes please.

couples camping (swimming, splash)

whale making, a process.

i've been having a little creative boom over here. that's how it happens, it would seem, with the cycle of my creativity. there will be periods of inactivity which i like to think of as brainstorming sessions or inspiration searches or any other positive way to describe the time when i have plans to make things, but do not. i could be doodling, i could be writing ideas down on scraps of paper, journals or the chalkboard door in the kitchen or i could be spending all my extra time practicing my headstand and contemplating the transformative power of naps. sometimes things are related and sometimes they are not.

this past week i finished a giant whale body pillow, a little squirrel with scarf, and a set of 4 animals cards i made for a silent auction fundraiser so relatively speaking, i'm experiencing a bit of a creative upswing. everything i come across i wonder how i could interpret creatively. last nights dinner conversation about hyenas turned into this mornings doodle session to perfect their sneaky, slinky hump. it's sunnier outside. the birds are extra noisy. my swatches of wool and tweed no longer look like inanimate fabric, but part of something i've yet to discern.

there's always a moment when i'm deep in the mode of creating where the thing that i am making becomes something of its own accord. not, i would say, completely and altogether different from the blueprint i'd imagined, but just, its own thing. like i am less a creator and more an assistant in its ultimate desire to be whatever it is that it will be. i am making a whale and in return the whale is teaching me things like not everything can be planned and you never know how something will truly turn out until you get there.

zen moments in crafting and life lessons from whale body pillows. i ride the creativity with glee and try not to worry about when it will inevitably come to the necessary lull of the cycle. and anyways, i always need more time to practice naps and headstands.

you are what you eat (i'm hummus with crackers)

so our new shtick is healthy eating. i don't know what's an offshoot of what anymore because it seems as though all the little positive things we do in one area of our lives have criss-crossing benefits in others but i think healthy eating stems from active living or they're the same thing or they're part of the same family. like cousins. 

any-who, turns out we're interested in what we put into our bodies and how different foods make us feel different ways. we got an anatomy book from the library but the adult one was too hard to digest (ha) so we got a kids version and we'll start there. we're also doing a detox cleanse which is way less pretentious than it sounds. basically you eliminate foods that are hard for your body to digest for myriad reasons, and you focus on eating nutrient rich, simple, good food for two weeks. lots of water, lots of fruit and vegetables, lean meats like chicken and fish, beans, brown rice, no sugar, no caffeine, no alcohol, no dairy, no wheat. 

within days you're supposed to have more energy and better digestion. some people feel so good after a week that they don't want to ever return to eating the things they're omitting but it's important that you do. whole wheats and some forms of dairy, (yogurt!) can be great for you in the right portions and it's also important to reintroduce these foods to determine if you have a food intolerance. you can exercise during the cleanse but you're supposed to take it easy, i plan on lots of yoga and the stretch focused classes at ballet. in general it's supposed to be a time of rest and rejuvenation. 

i love both those things. hopefully more than peanut butter sandwiches.

morning

i've been waking up at 5:30. it started with our morning gym outings and the helpful yet gentle nudge of cbc radio two on our bedside alarm, but now even on weekends, i've been waking up at 5:30.

the robin outside has also been waking up at 5:30 or sometime before or sometime soon after but whatever the exact timing she's become my consistent companion in these stolen moments before the sun comes up. i wonder why she sings with such persistent dedication? is it a mating call? a territory claim? or is it just the simple joy of another morning, another day which in and of itself is always cause to celebrate?

i respect her vigour. her unabashed volume. i wonder if she is the avian equal to me, waking jeremy each morning with my vocal practice and enthusiasm which, although possibly endearing the rest of the day, is questionably so at this early hour.

i've been waking up at 5:30.

my mug, my man

i bought this mug for five dollars at a sidewalk sale in downtown oakville. i love it because i love turtles and well-made, large mugs with a bit of heft to them. i love how this one, for no obvious reason, has the word GREEN on the other side. maybe it's a turtle descriptor, maybe it's the artist's name, whatever it is it's there, affirmative and unapologetic. GREEN. i drink my GREEN tea from it and wonder if i'm getting some secret instruction right.

we love to sit in our sun room and draw. we draw each other, we draw our surroundings, we draw instructional posters on the perfect steeping time for black and herbal teas. nestled in amongst stacks of books and art utensils we pull from our sources as needed, for ideas, facts to illustrate and inspiration in its million feathered forms.

fluff, flower, green

spring buds

ah, it feels good to write. even when i'm not writing i'm thinking about writing, it's kind of how i process the world. i think in snippets, in quotes, in lyrical beginnings, middles, ends. writing allows me to put a frame on something, the world, which is at its very essence an un-frameable thing. does that make the things i say untruthful? as they are only one small part of the whole? collect these part truths together and even then, with an armload of my thoughts and opinions, there will always be something missing. what is that missing thing that can only be hinted at, circumvented, seen briefly from our peripheral vision? is that, then, the soul?

box of chocolates

how do i pick a favourite? i can't. 

the truffles on the left, with their hint of chili spice, the chocolatier told jeremy you must hold them in your mouth for 20 seconds before you bite down. a delightfully impossible suggestion, i never made it past 5.

i thought the s's stood for sorrell, our own chocolate! monogrammed! that's better than housecoats or hand towels or small sheets of stationary with gold embossed corners. they were salted caramels and the s stood for salted or scrumptious or splendidly super sweets. 

i liked the violins, (the music they made could be tasted, not heard), the almond clusters, (crunchy, dark, delectable) and the perfectly polished round bavarian beer ball. how do they polish a chocolate, do you suppose? with tiny cloths and gold dusting and just the right exposure to sugar and sun.

couples

remember when we were hanging out in the parking lot?

last sunday, after brunch?

we watched the cars pull up to check and see if the store was open,

(which it wasn't)

and started towards the trail that opens at the south end of the lot.

we counted the new buds

(there were many)

and felt the rain drops

(just a few)

then headed home in pairs,

(you with your man, me with mine).

the mini manufacture of things handmade

hunting and gathering

i got up in the middle of the night to check and see if there were easter eggs hidden around the apartment. do you believe that? you probably do. i regularly sleep with one eye open hoping to catch something fantastical in the act.

we had mel and alan over for brunch and because we're odd and enjoy strange activities we made them an easter egg hunt complete with a handwoven basket jeremy made with long strips from old magazines.

they found most of them but left a few which we'll leave out until we pass them by and think, boy, i could really use a chocolate.

it's spring, let's go for a stroll.

holy shit, i love you.

i am always learning things about love. friend love, family love, love for inanimate objects that i assign human emotions to, (i love you rock collection, and i know you love me back), and romantic/partnership/marriage love. this love is very interesting because it does not stay the same, as no great loves ever should, but changes and grows and continues in a forward motion, seemingly, of its own accord.

my love for jeremy does not stay the same. there are attributes, to be sure, that are consistent and foundational to our relationship, (trust, respect, kindness, care), but there are always new elements that we are adding and removing like our love is a thing we both nurture. it can be said, perhaps, that we're in a polygamous relationship with love. a threeway with love. we have an open love relationship. 

it's impossible, (though i try!) to be deliriously happy every second of the day, you need some time in there to brush your teeth and put on pants. i will admit though that i can never get far without being struck with such an immense love for jeremy and the life we share together, that i believe myself to be the absolute luckiest person alive. 

holy shit, eh? love.

luna

we just can't get enough of the moon lately, it's been absolutely spectacular. from our kitchen window, where these shots were taken, we can watch her graceful ascendance over the horizon and upwards until she hangs there, regal and assured.

looking through our binoculars we can clearly see the many ridges and valleys on her stony grey surface and this level of detail, crystal clear through my magnifying lenses, reminds me just how close our rocky satellite is. an arms length, really, if we all stretched and believed we could reach it.

you aren't alone, oh marvelous moon! i send you greetings and glad tidings and compliments on your spherical splendour.

letter writing love

so i did it! one month of daily letter writing including even on the weekends! i'll be honest and share it was sometimes an effort to sit and think of what to say with pen and paper, but i was never sorry i did. and i grew into my own letter writing 'style' by the end, (little missives, lots of doodles), so that's another big plus.

i got some great responses, some unsolicited notes and a beautiful doodle of two manatees in love. mel drew me donuts. mojgan sent me cake. it was by all accounts, a raging success. and so i suppose i'll keep it up, this beautiful ceremony of sitting and thinking and using my own steam to propel my hand across the page with the thoughts i think, to send to you.

 ain't nothing more worthy of my time.

sunshine swimming