simplicity

Rain was in the forecast for today but it fell in the night as we slept instead. Upon waking I opened the doors and windows inviting the persistent breeze to rush through the house. I sat on the back steps bundled in a scarf and sweater, cinnamon coffee in hand, greyhound nearby. I admired our neighbor's star jasmine, red hibiscus and honeysuckle; all tumbling over the fence into our yard spilling color and fragrance. Hummingbirds jittered from plant to feeder. A cat showed up and stretched out on the fence making you know who very happy. I smiled to find the poppy and cosmo seeds I planted just last week have sprouted, and look forward to the premiere of new summertime color in our beds. Before the week is over I will have planted a few more geraniums in hanging wicker baskets and empty terra cotta pots will be filled with rosemary and mint. Soon evenings will be spent out here grilling summer vegetables from the farmers market around the corner. We don't really have the space here for a vegetable garden of our own (though it's fun to check in at the community garden nearby to see what's growing). I also suspect it may be the simplicity of our little garden space that brings us the most joy. 

in this crooked little room

There is a sweet sliver of a room added on to the back of this little home, reminding me of a train's caboose. It houses a daybed, a nightstand, and a comfy wingback chair found on the side of the road and recently reupholstered in Anna Maria Horner fabric. There's an awkward but sturdy built in bookcase, a desk, the felted rug in the picture, and a red typewriter I adore. There's a turquoise record player; not unlike the one I had as a child to listen to stories like Peter and the Wolf on while learning to read, and a wicker basket of albums nearby. The floors in this space are noticeably slanted and one wall is mostly windows, flung open to welcome the ocean breeze and the scent of jasmine that tags along with it in May. Sometimes Rave's bed is perched in front of the open door here in an orb of sun. It's a prime vantage point where he can quickly scan the backyard and determine if there's a cat nearby. 

This room is where I've spent a good part of the day. I often knit or read in here, but today I got the sewing machine set up and the fabric stash displayed for a patchwork quilt I plan to start this summer. New to quilting, the outcome will likely be a little ramshackle but I am charmed by the thought of it. 

I've also been wanting to play with gouache and see summer registration has opened for Get Your Paint On. I'm thinking it might be just the right place to start.

I'd love to hear about any creative projects on your mind.

In art and dream may you proceed with abandon. 

In life may you proceed with balance and stealth.

- Patti Smith 

for you

what things, big or small, are bringing you joy today?

A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, 

as if supported by the rays of the sun,

a bird settled on the fire escape,

joy in the task of coffee,

joy accompanied me as I walked.

- Anais Nin

words from a note to a friend

I think of death as a form of shapeshifting,

a metamorphosis

that does not take from us

that which we love,

but transforms it into something intangible,

requiring we open our hearts

even further to experience it.