Pictures of My Wanderlust

When my brother showed me photos of his recent trip to Munich, Prague, Istanbul, and Budapest, I felt happy for him and enthralled by the sites. I had a strong sense of being there. I also felt a pang, a little pain in my stomach. Wanderlust. Wanderlust with a capital LUST.

I go on weekend car trips, but it's been far too long since I've boarded a plane, left home for weeks, and immersed myself in the unfamiliar. I think most of us are more alive when we travel. Our senses work overtime. We taste, listen, and look anew. I long for that and need to find it soon.

Meanwhile, I can show you pictures of my wanderlust: photos taken close to home as if I was a tourist.

Establishing Shot:  Pike Place Market Sign, November 2011

Odd Tourist Attraction: Gum Wall (to left), November 2011

 

Religious Architecture: Church, Seattle WA, November 2011 



Iconic Cultural Markers: Church and Baseball Diamond, Eastern Washington, November 2011 

Local Wildlife, Penny, November 2011

 

Local Wildlife, Clover, November 2011 



Majestic Landscape: Snoqualmie Pass, November 2011

Happy and safe travels to all who wander!

Thank you.

Santa's Little Helper...and Mine

In November and December, many things increase: clothing layers, retail spending, calorie consumption. Also on the rise are bits of ripped paper in compost bins. This confetti is the final stage of the most humble and reliable of holiday helpers: personal lists. Their purpose fulfilled, lists are ripped (often with great satisfaction on the ripper's part) into tiny pieces and tossed to the worms.

Fancy List: Whatever Gets the Job Done

These days, as holidays approach, you, or someone you love, is without a doubt hunkered down with coffee, pen, and paper, making lists. To Do. Budget for Gifts. Invitees. Items to Pack. Groceries Now. Groceries Day Before Thanksgiving.


It's OK, I Know What It Means

This is personal. The laptop has been shoved aside. I, and from my observation, many others, write personal lists by hand. We have our own codes—asterisks, arrows, different arrows, and underlines. We abbreviate in ways we understand even if others don't. I suspect we write by hand because it somehow prepares us for the tasks ahead. It's tangible evidence of readiness, in our very own language. We don't have to communicate the list to anyone else.

Making lists gives us time to think through priorities and task order. On the way to a final list, we cross out first thoughts in favor of better ones, we rip pages from notebooks and start over. Making lists this way is not efficient, but it often helps us to be efficient later.

The payoff for making a good list is not just being organized and clear headed. The payoff is physically checking each item off the list as you complete it. Confession: Sometimes, if I forget to put an item on a list but then I take care of that item, I add it to the list and then check it off. Don't tell anybody.

Here's hoping all your lists are manageable, and that you thoroughly enjoy the upcoming holidays!


Obsolete List? Phone Book, 2011



The Eagle and the Space Needle

The Eagle and the Space Needle

Dreaming in Calder

Before my eyes opened this morning, visions of Alexander Calder's playful mobiles and huge grounded stabiles paid me a most welcome visit. No doubt I'd been dreaming in primary colors. Maybe I flew in my dreams. Maybe there were several of me in different sizes suspended from curved wires, moving close to each other but never touching. It's going to be a wonderful day. This stuff makes me stupidly happy.

Please, please feast your eyes on Calder's brilliance here.

This got me looking around for Superman colors in my own world. Here's what I found.



Alexander Calder's The Eagle, detail, Seattle Sculpture Park



Totem House Yellow Wall, Seattle



Totem House, Seattle



Off and On, Prosser, WA



Cherry Chomper and Rainiers



Anchovies in a Can



Ginkgo in Autumn, Seattle, 2011



One Eye in the Mirror

Following up on the last post, here's what some others said about personal perception (with an emphasis on visual perception.) 

"We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are." —Anais Nin

"The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter—often an unconscious, but still truthful interpreter—in the eye." —Charlotte Bronte

"As a man is, so he sees." —William Blake

"The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." —Marcel Proust, "The Captive," Remembrance of Things Past

"What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing; it also depends on what sort of person you are." —C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew

"One has not only an ability to perceive the world but an ability to alter one's perception of it; more simply, one can change things by the manner in which one looks at them." —Tom Robbins, Even Cowgirls Get the Blues

Every Picture Tells

One eye looks within, the other eye looks without.—Henri Cartier-Bresson

This week I emailed three photos to several friends and asked them to view and briefly comment on them. They could say anything about any aspect of the photos.

No two people responded the same way to the photos. On one hand, this makes me wonder how we ever come to a consensus on anything—we literally see things differently.

On the other hand, that people noticed many different things and felt various ways about what they saw seems hopeful to me. For example, if we are stuck in some part of our lives, maybe it helps to look at things differently, not only metaphorically, but in reality. If we notice new things, different things than we typically notice, we change our internal conversations. We change the pictures inside of us.

The people who shared their thoughts for this post have many things in common, statistically speaking, and yet each perspective is quite unique. I can't imagine the wild range of perspectives that would come from a more diverse group. What would toddlers see? How about a 90 year old person? What about someone who lives in Kenya, North Korea, or Monaco?

Take a look for yourself at the photos and comments, below. The names are fake, the comments verbatim except for minor formatting tweaks. Before you read them, for fun, notice your own response to the photos.

My very sincere thanks to the seven lovely people who sent comments for this post!

Photo A

Ella:  Batik background and henna painting brought me back to the late 70’s, early 80’s.  Time of less stress and responsibilities. Flower power and love…feeling groovy.

Ingrid:
Henna Feet:
narrative
pleasing color
feminine culture
Compositionally, skin colors are very close to and in harmony with the fabric design itself.

Kate:
Here's what comes to mind: trendy 
Second word:  patterns

MJ: Foot shot:  I am struck by how beautiful the hands are, especially the left one and the feet don't look as beautiful, even though they are being henna tattooed.  The chipped toe nail polish remnants emphasize that to me.

Robert: Henna photo - Why are they doing this? Is it a special event?

Smith:  Friend giving friend henna job

Zara: the henna photo: i was struck by the juxtaposition of "folk art expression" ( i don't know how else to express it) with what i see as indulgence (but not in a bad way). those beautifully manicured toes!  this from someone who's never had a pedicure because my feet are so ticklish.  henna is such a beautiful and deeply cultural tradition--it needs no other embellishment.  and against that stunning batik background.  two forms of cultural artistry on a 'thoroughly modern millie'.

Photo B

Ella: That bright blue sky = California  I just want to jump in that pool and be 12 years old again.  I can just feel the hot pavement as I run around the pool (ouch!) to retrieve the pink float on the hammock to the right, before splashing into the cool (but not cold!) water.  Ah!

Ingrid:
The Swimming Pool:
Plastic walrus: annoying
Inviting, airy, sensual
Rhythmic composition

Kate: LA (as in the place)

MJ: Pool shot:  I find this shot stressful and creepy.  The floats are all so intentionally placed both in and out of the pool to create an effect to the point I feel like badness has happened here!

Robert: Pool- I want to jump in and ride that floaty toy.

Smith:
Summertime heat
Kids having lunch, no pool time

Zara: the pool:  i love the joyful  presence of the blue inflatable toy--it makes me want to embrace the goof in me.  i also loved the image of the pool lounge on the hammock--it is relaxation squared.

Photo C

Ella: 1960’s principal just called everyone back into the classrooms after lunch.  The outdoor hallways are a thing of the past now.  Too many weird intruder incidents make them unsafe.  This photo brings back memories of safer times and places without worries…except about that next class assignment or test after lunch period.

Ingrid:
Standing Figure:
awkward
poignant
60's schoolyard activity/chaos
Compositionally, the roof of the building adds a lot of uncomfortable tension; enclosing and pressing down.

Kate:  Lost

MJ: People walking:  I feel like the guy is missing the party ... It is happening in the other direction. With the boys swinging around the pole and the woman walking quickly to where the party is going to be!

Robert: 60's photo - I'm sure everyone has a photo from the 50s or 60s like this, very typical of that time.

Smith: Teacher on school recess duty
Dad dropping us off at school

Zara:  can't tell where it is--but was struck by people coming or going--they are in transit--not yet at their destination.  it is 'nowhere' time.  but the kids are totally engaged in where they 'are'.

It Takes Guts

"To avoid criticism, say nothing, do nothing, be nothing." —Aristotle

"Creativity takes courage." —Henri Matisse

The Red Bead Factory

At a job long ago, in a new industry still forging its path, at a company straining to see the forest for the trees, my boss made a quiet declaration. Exhausted from working long hours, he told us he just wanted to work in a bead factory. One that makes only red beads. One size. Five days a week. Punch in. Punch out.

We understood, snickered a bit. Like him, we felt defeated. We were whiplashed by radically shifting work priorities. One minute, heavy workloads threatened to bury us; the next, not having enough work made us fear for our jobs. I couldn’t control these changes and neither could my boss. And the company’s owner was just trying to respond to the continual innovations in our industry—or rumors of them. On the worst days, the red bead factory sounded like a wonderful alternative.

Since the red bead factory wasn’t hiring, I looked elsewhere for uncomplicated, repetitive activities. Eventually I picked up needles and resumed a habit I started when I was very young. That’s right: I started knitting again. Knitting became my "bead factory," the place where I could make something while my mind wandered and reached. It was hugely calming to follow unambiguous instructions and make something pretty.

I picked up sticks--and knit

With two knitting needles and a ball of yarn, I had control. I chose the fiber, color, and pattern. In the beginning, simple was best. Knitting a scarf with only the knit stitch was the ultimate bead-factory zone-out project. You didn't really need a pattern for it. The instructions were: Cast on as many stitches as you want. Knit as many rows as you want—every stitch the same. The scarf is finished when it's long enough. Cast off.

While watching the 9/11 coverage, I knit the longest scarf I’ve ever knit. I couldn’t stop making something in the wake of destruction. I made the scarf, and cooked and baked endlessly.



Products from my "bead factory"

How you knit gloves, socks and tops of hats

I knit for several reasons now and I've graduated from scarves. I can knit cables because my mother showed me how, and I can knit colorful fair isle patterns on hats and sweaters. I'm quite knit-pattern fluent; I can read P3, C4FP, p2, k6, C4BP, p3 and totally get it.

The industry eventually paved its path. My future jobs were vast improvements on the one described here. And I keep knitting and finding other ways to let my mind wander and reach. I hope you find your own way to do the same.

***

BTW: After my post last week about our gray winters, I feel obliged to show you the stunning blue sky here today:



November 1, 2011