Life is vividly beautiful when you think you have a brain tumor.
Life is vividly beautiful when you find out you don't.

home sweet home

I love the ocean. I really love the ocean.
Is it the waves, white caps, predictability, unpredictability, the sound, the light reflecting off it, the fog hiding it, the power, the calm, the straightness of the horizon, the eternity of it all, or the humbling and contented feelings I often have when near it? Maybe all of the above. And more. I think it is that 'more' that enthralls me the most.

After spending a week at Bodega Bay with our family, along with grandmothers, I felt like I had visited an old friend again. I pondered, smiled, laughed, and took deep breaths of the cool tangible air. I gazed at the ocean as if I was seeing it's beauty for the first time. I have a hard time taking my eyes away from it, but when I do, behind closed lids, it bubbles and crashes leaving a moment of complete peace before beginning again. In and out, like breath. Repeat.

CROW clothing

I'm very excited about this company, their clothing, and business model. (no this is not a paid advertisement) Eco-conscious, handmade, sliding scale pricing, woman-owned, Portland.

CROW clothing

special feature playing for a limited time only

We have turned into somewhat of a birdwatching family. Especially Joaquin and I, as we spend many meals looking out at the bird feeder. This bird feeder has drawn regular birds, including one specific family of finches. The male is adorned with bright red hood and vest, and the female usually eats with him at the feeder. This female recently started building a nest in the corner of our covered patio. I would watch her day after day, slowly constructing this new home. I was honored she would choose our patio. So some time went by, and one day I saw the male in the nest appearing to be regurgitating. I had never seen him in the nest before, and strained to see if there were baby birds in the nest. It appeared that some little blob was meeting at dads mouth, but I couldn't be certain. A couple days later, I saw 3 little open mouths popping out of the nest, eyes closed, very still. I thought they were dead initially, but was relieved to see two of them open and close their mouths while I watched. And watched. And watched. There is something very special about watching a family of birds take residence and have baby birds. Joaquin calls them "Beebee burds". I love hearing him say that.

Today when I went to check the nest, they were bigger, more alert, fuzzier, and there were FOUR of them! We are all enjoying this special feature playing for a limited time only.
click on the photo above to see them in better detail.

welcome summer.

viral social change

Really enjoyed this article...excerpt:

For us to wait for legislation or technology to solve the problem of how we're living our lives suggests we're not really serious about changing--something our politicians cannot fail to notice. They will not move until we do. Indeed, to look to leaders and experts, to laws and money and grand schemes, to save us from our predicament represents precisely the sort of thinking--passive, delegated, dependent for solutions on specialists--that helped get us into this mess in the first place. It's hard to believe that the same sort of thinking could now get us out of it.

blast from the past. The Cure.

So, if you dont know this about me, I was a HUGE fan of the Cure in elementary school, with fan following during highschool on and off. My room was a shrine to red-lip-stick-smeared faces, super-teased hair shellacked, pasty skin, and, of course, the color black. I loved me some Cure, although I wasn't a goth on the 'outside'. I never did, however, like Peter Murphy. Or Bauhause. So I could never really be a true goth. A touch of new wave I did have, however.

Well, these days I can say that I hadn't listened in many, many years to any Cure music. Toooooooo dark for me these days. But, I was a little renewed when my cousin Katy asked me to see the Cure with her in San Jose. I said yes, expecting these crusty old rockers to be amusing for the night, sounding a little old- because they are. Well, the show rocked. Alot. The sound was amazing, the songs were OLD yay!, and they played for 3 straight hours. 3 hours. 3 encores. Amazing. I only thought bands like RUSH and the Dead did that. It was a goth rock marathon show, and Im so happy I shared it with my cuz.

Here's the set for the night:
plainsong, prayers for rain, fascination street, the perfect boy, the blood, the end of the world, lovesong, to wish impossible things, pictures of you, lullaby, catch, hot hot hot, the only one, a strange day, sleep when i'm dead, push, doing the unstuck, inbetween days, just like heaven, a letter to elise, from the edge of the deep green sea, shake dog shake, wrong number, one hundred years, disintegration,
E1: at night, m, play for today, a forest,
E2: freakshow, close to me, why can't i be you?,
E3: boys don't cry, jumping someone else's train, grinding halt, 10:15 saturday night, killing an arab

Yard Dogs Road Show - Zoe Jakes

I love this piece by Zoe Jakes...the music, choreography, drama, costuming... its brilliant. I'm oddly obsessed with it actually.

happy mothers day

I have a day to celebrate a part of who I am. Mothers day. It still feels a little strange when it rolls around...a day to celebrate this identity of my life as a parent. Aside from the Hallmark stuff, the day reminds me to honor all mothers. It brings me back to thoughts of birthing our son and the journey of raising children and how universal yet individual it is. I see my mother's role as a parent in a new light, now that I am a mother myself.
What I see is the deepness of her love for little ol me.
But I swim in that abyss of deep love now that Joaquin has made me a mother. I get it now. It is a gift. Being a mom is like unwrapping little surprises all day long...everyday. But then you have to clean up all the wrapping paper.
Then you go to bed early with exhaustion.
But then you dream of all those little surprises that you can't wait
to wake up to the next morning. Then you start all over again.
Happy mothers day.

"Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion."
~Martha Graham

strawberry fields forevah.

Brisk warm breeze continuously whipping our hair into a nature-inspired style.
Blue sky. Sun. Typical California. Just a day in the life.
Pacific Sun organic farm. Woodland. Strawberry fields. You pick. Gallon bucket to fill- $12- plus eat eat eat all that you can while you pick.
Joaquin. Carlos. Me.
Perfect day.

Forget the movies. Forget the time. Forget toys. Forget the gas prices.
And pick strawberries in the sun. Engage all your senses. Eat them fresh off the plant while warm strawberry juice rushes in and out of your lips. Look up.
Observe the bees co-creating. Smile. Watch Joaquin take his first bite of a sun ripened strawberry. Breathe deep. This is joy.

Hi Joaquin...please unlock the door for mama...

It is twilight, a soothing shade of blue that welcomes the night. I sit on the patio, wrapped in a shawl, feeling the evening breeze blow by me. I quietly sit, eyes closed, hearing the evening wrapping up for the day. The last of the birds are eating the seed on the ground, the trees are restless, and the light continues to blue. After a thoughtful reflection and welcoming the calm to usher me into the evening, I get up and see Joaquin smiling at me through the sliding glass door.
'What an angel', I think to myself.
I unhurriedly arise out of my chair and step towards the slider. Joaquin and I have a spontaneous play session with the slider separating us for the time. Then, Joaquin's eyes twinkle as he casually walks closer to the door and matter-of-factly locks me out. I immediately think...'I'm so glad Carlos is home!' simultaneously with "I didn't know he could do that!', as I sweetly ask if he can unlock the door and let mama in. He obliges, confirming a new task he has mastered...locking people in and out of places.
I consider myself warned.

In rememberance and honor...

Hatred paralyzes life, love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

~Martin Luther King Jr.

I am beyond inspired by this idea.

www.oneworldeverybodyeats.org

Vision Statement:

* We are dedicated to eliminating world hunger.

* We are dedicated to serving organic unprocessed food.

* We are dedicated to feeding and including all members of our community.

* We are dedicated to eliminating waste in the food industry.

* We believe that we can trust our customers to be inspired, honest and fair in their exchange of money and/or work for the fresh, gourmet, organic food we prepare both mindfully and in a heartfelt way each day.

* We will keep believing ...

happy birthday Joaquin

How can I thank you for making me a mama? You are teaching me so much, and I would have never imagined how amazing it would be to see you wake up each day and notice you have grown-just a bit- maybe a new word pops out or you seem a little taller. What day did you change from my 8-pounds-exactly infant into this little boy who hugs and kisses so freely? My heart is filled and overflowing with gratitude. For you.

So today, in our family tradition, we walk the labyrinth. In silence, as best possible, to reflect and celebrate Joaquin joining our lives. As the labyrinth shows us, there is one path-but many turns. One can often feel lost, although it is just an illusion...all paths are unobstructed to the center. One eventually reaches the center with ease if they continue to walk the path. I am honored to walk this life with you Joaquin.

Happy Birthday.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labyrinth

'And when he sees me in all and sees all in me,
Then I never leave him and he never leaves me.
And he, who in this oneness of love
Loves me in whatever he sees,
Wherever this man may live,
In truth, he lives in me...'

Bhagavad Gita, VI:30,31

a masterpiece

I catch a view of my hand, and stop breathing for just a second. I breathe in again, this time without fear or shock. I'm going to have to get to know these new hands of mine.

They are no longer the smooth, tanned, taut, buttery canvasas that used to wrap freely around the steering wheel of my 71 VW squareback. The wrinkles and loosening of the skin show that I am growing. I am aging. I will be 35 this year. I know that is not old. I am a mother. I am a wife. A social worker. A woman. Dare I say...an artist? eek! No! I am still not ready to affix that label on myself. The lines and new spots on my hands map out a journey of my life. A fantastic and complicated journey, yet one that is always changing. Because...life...is always changing. With each new line, life doodles on my skin...I stand, observing the new work of art. A crisscross of patterns. I want to be critical because I don't like the composition initally. I quickly understand that won't help, as there are no corrections in these lines...they are done with sharpies-not pencil. So, I look for the story-the meaning-behind the artwork. I reflect.

I'm still reflecting. I still don't love the lines, but we are friends now. The lines are a growing family. I'm beginning to let go...to understand that life is an ongoing process of releasing and embracing. Again and again, over and over. Motherhood is bringing this into focus for me, in a way I have never experienced before. Just when I get used to myself and the regular-ness of everyday life, life will teach me that I don't really know the depth of my being- of our being- and offers me yet another opportunity to go deeper into my life, values, relationships, and the nitty-gritty of who I am underneath this canvas. I'm almost certain that with time, I will see the masterpiece. But that will take a well-trained eye.

green mamas

www.greenmommy.org

started by a collaborative of Sonoma county mamas desiring community & exchange around making sustainable lifestyle changes in our individual and family lives.
I'm a regular poster.
Join the discussion. Synergy baby.

Thursday, February 21st, 11:36am

beeeeep. beeep.beeep.beeeep.beeeep. It's done.
Cinnamon bread from TJ's, a new found treasure buried in the bread isle. Warmed just slightly...just enough to bring it from it's room temperature state. A slab of butter to celebrate. And I gaze with quiet intention at the gray late morning.

The dishwasher runs, and Joaquin dreams. I have the luxury of just sitting at the window, eating my cinnamon bread, yum, and watching the birds engage in what birds engage in. They are scurrying around the feeders in the yard, running out for a quick bite to ease their growling stomachs--between the rains---which they have been trying to stay warm and dry from all morning. They look nervous. Finch. Their nervousness is confirmed with larger jays and robins swooping in on them. For what reason, I'm not sure...but it definitely scares them. Yesterday a rather large squirrel was hanging from the birdfeeder, grubbing some snacks. With my recent intentional efforts to lure more wildlife to our yard, I am happy at the new entertainment outside. I think I might be turning into a birdwatcher. The thought of going on a tour has actually crossed my mind. Not that I know much of birds, but I do find interest in watching and interacting with other wildlife. Maybe a curiosity mixed with contentment is a way to express my love for birds. I rip another piece off my cinnamon bread.

I sit and wonder what other mother's do when they get some time to themselves. I often do "nothing". I enjoy the silence, napping, creating, observing, and reflecting. Some days I am more drawn to it than others. Some days my semi-interest in baking takes over and I cook a loaf of bread or muffins. Joaquin and I also spend time like this together, quiet- being- together time. No expectations, but just following his lead, and being a quiet support and witness to his own internal pull to develop and grow. These times with him are so valuable to me, the moments of just being instead of doing. They are like taking a deep exhalation into the roots of being alive. And an awareness of mothering.

transitions & growth

It's been a couple weeks since my last post, as life just keeps happening.
Joaquin is growing, as are we. Joaquin has had many firsts over the past few weeks. He had his last bottle, used the potty to go "agua" as he calls it, and moved into his own room with a few more months of the crib. I admit that he is no longer a baby, although always my baby, he is now a little boy. Here is a little excerpt from a journal I keep for Joaquin(which is the only thing I can manage to keep for him!):

"Today was a big day. A time of transitions and growth. Tonight, I held you and gave you your last bottle. I once fed you from my breast, your dad fed you your first bottle, and now I feed you your last. I didn't think I would feel as emotional as I have about it, but I notice what the future holds in letting go and watching you grow and mature in to the beautiful person you were born to be."