Endlessly Repeating...

This image is of a Josiah McElheny sculpture at the MFA, Boston. This is just one small part of a larger whole.  It is clear to see why it is so dynamic...he uses reflective surfaces and two way mirrors so the reflections are splayed out in every direction.  It is awesome to stand in front of it and see such depth, the infinite confined in a finite space.

I am a bit of a thinker...actually to be more accurate I am a reflector.  I reflect on what has happened, how I could have done it differently; what didn't happen and why I didn't make it; what is going to happen and how I can either stop it or propel it forward...anyway you get the idea.  Yes, it is exhausting.  Through many conversations with friends that are similar to me, and different, we have yet to come to conclusion on whether this is a blessing or a curse.  It is most likely both.  I hope you see the totally obvious connection of why I would be drawn to this image.  However, I think what I love most about this piece is not what is seen, but what is clearly absent.  This sculture now sits in the new contemporary art wing of the MFA.  There are often people surrounding it on a busy day.  There are four sides, each with different shaped vessels reflecting parts of the whole.  So what is missing?...any reflection of the viewer.  Any sense that this visually exploding sculpture, made purely of surfaces that are meant to echo its surroundings, is being observed.  It is self containing.  The action of the piece is expanding only inward.  The first time I saw this work I identified with this initial sensation: taking everything around me and pulling it inward, mulling it over, trying to see it from all sides... I felt drawn to it and yet claustrophobic because of it.  But the other day I was back in front of "Endlessly Repeating Twentieth Century Modernism" and I saw something different, or that is I didn't see something.  I was intensely aware of the lack of myself in this mess of internal and external reflections, and I breathed.  For that moment I was able to be outside of myself as I stared into it.  I felt light.  This has come up a couple of times recently, and as I have come to learn, if a theme is reoccurring in life it is a little piece of grace (ie. meant to be listened to!).  I reveled in this feeling of lightness, let go of whatever was jumbling around in my head and just let the moment rush over me, oh to be present.  So in those moments of feeling overwhelmed by trying to figure it all out, past, present and future, I will remember to take myself out of it, realizing that 1) I have NO control over it 2) THANK God for that and 3) isn't it more beautiful when we let go of ourselves, surrendering to the crazy chaos that we find ourselves in?!  At least at the MFA it is...

Advent 2012, part 1

I realized there was something else I wanted to say tonight.  I just got finished reading over all of my posts from the last couple of years...which was not THAT many since my last one before tonight was January of 2011 and I only started this blog in the summer of 2010!! Anyway, that is neither here nor there.  What I did want to mention (and what I was reminded from a former post) is that we are in advent.  Why is that important?  I am not actually sure yet, but there is something brewing this advent that I want to be aware of and ready for, which is somewhat ironic considering that advent is the time of waiting in the Christian tradition.  (For amazing posts about advent see here, and be sure to click through all the embedded links.)

Ok, totally off track again...back to the importance of advent...I do believe that God, whatever version of Her you put your faith in, honors our desires to seek and to find.  So before I lay down for the night I want to put out into the ether of faith that I am entering boldly into this advent season, preparing myself for whatever crosses the path of this seeker, this adventurer, this active wait-er. I wonder who else out there is searching, I suspect so many of you.  What if we all looked out for one another as we continued our own journeys? Maybe it is not just about what we seek but how that relates to what those we love are seeking.  I wonder if the shepherds and wise men were not as open to their own journeys being disrupted, if they would have found what they were looking for...a small baby, pure love, entering an imperfect world to shake things up in a radical way.  We do not always find what we initially set out to...THANK GOD for that, otherwise why search at all?!

Back to Basics

 So, it has been a wicked long time since I was in this space.  Well, not quite as long as the distance between these two pictures, but I thought having these two Emilys meet would bring me back to basics.  Mainly, thinking again about this blogging space, what it can be for me and the very small amount of people who find their way here.  A lot has happened since the last post in 2011.  To much really to go back and recap, plus part of what has been learned from this past year is living in the present time and space.  When I was thinking about how to restart this electronic journal I, of course, went to find images.  I found this old button of me as a child...why I had a button made of me in a puffy purple jacket I do not know, and then why I STILL have the button many moons later is even more beyond me.  However, that is not the point.  The point is, well, what is the point?!  I guess in finding this old picture and then putting it next to this one of me a few weeks ago getting ready for my cousins wedding (thanks to Kalee Hankle for the straightening of my hair!!) made me realize a couple of things:1. Little girls never really grow up, we just finally claim the fact that being a woman enables us to act like a little girl on our own terms2. My smile, that seems to be a main feature in people remembering me, started as a small smirk and has grown into something I no longer hide but display with abandonment3. Being a child of the 80s was totally stylish! 

So I guess the point is...I'm back.  Not sure for how long or where this new track will take me, but looking forward to sharing...

Home Again

"They" say you can never go home again, which isn't really true. I go home every Christmas, and sometimes for Thanksgiving, and occasionally during the summer...but I get the idea. It is true, I can't go back to the way it was, the way I felt in high school, the girl I was, the boys I liked, the friends and jokes we thought were hilarious...and that is a very good thing. We move on, grow to become more of the women we are, fall deeply in love with men, make new friends and often laugh about the same jokes with the old ones. However, I can go home again. And the glory is in the fact that we both change, home and me. I saw my town with new eyes, for the beauty that had become common when I was growing up there. Spending time with a good friend in a place I love, experiencing each other, our friendship, our town in new ways with the comfort of the past holding us close...no it is not going home again, it is better. I found a new home, a deeper home, in the safety of the familiar and the excitement in the changes of life.

4/642

Straight Dos

I got my hair cut today. I realized that it had been 5 months since my last hair cut (see August 5th). I remember after my last cut I felt so excited that my curls had new life breathed into them. This time after my trim, my stylist (that's right, a stylist) asked if I wanted my hair straightened. I almost always say no, but she convinced me...and I was enjoying the conversation as one art history major to another. I am not one for stylists, make-up...even lotion gives me the creeps, needless to say I am what you would call a "low maintenance" gal (at least in this department), but as I left the salon with a new "do", my christmas coat and places to be, I was reminded that pleasures often come, for me, from the simple parts of life. Completing a task, having goal, meeting a friend unexpectedly for a brisk walk...but today I would have to say my greatest pleasure, albiet a bit sinister, was having numerous friends not recognize me at first. Who knew losing the curls would be such a good disguise. I wonder what contacts, or lipstick would do?!...ohhh of the posibilites for deceit.

642 tries for Discipline

Discipline and routine, neither one of which are my favorite things to do. Call it my impatience, laziness...or how about we say it is that I am excitingly impulsive/to creative to stay on one thing for too long...either way I suck at follow through. Something that has gotten me in trouble one to many times, in one to many ways. So in spite of my distain for resolutions I found a creative outlet for my need for self discipline. I found this book while browsing one of my favorite stores in Harvard Square, Black Ink, where I always seem to leave with something tucked in the bag for myself no matter who I go to shop for. I am hoping with this small act of ritual once a day, drawing 1 out of the 642 prompts, I will begin to learn and like the importance of routine. And if it doesn't work...i get 642 creative experiences trapped in one book. Now don't worry, I am not going to share every pencil lined masterpiece, but I wanted to warn...well I am not sure who reads this, but anyway who stumbles upon this one day and catches a childlike (I never admitted to being being Artsy...just -ish) drawing of New Jersey, a lollipop, shadow, or a whisper. So stay tuned...

2011 Resolves

Ok, it has only been 2011 for a few days and already the realities of life have hit hard with various news that one does not want to hear, both abroad, in my city, in my home. A good friend told me that sometimes we have to go into the pain, let it engulf us, touch us, and transform us before we can start to heal. Someone else said to love each moment and be grateful for what we have. There are so many ways to mourn, it seems we each have to do it in our own way. As this new year begins, births and deaths will happen, joy and sadness are inevitable. I have never been one for new year resolutions, but this year, in light of recent events I resolve to be present, to be aware when someone needs me, to make decisions and follow through, and as wise professor said, to just show up.

This year will bring more bad news, but it is my firm believe that joyous good news will always be more prevalent if we keep ourselves open to hearing it, seeing it, and showing up for it.

Advent Thoughts (late in the game I know!)

Advent is a time of waiting. I like that idea, but often have a hard time with it. I can be the most impatient person. I tend to let my immediate reaction be the one that I run with and then if I leave a mess in my wake I do my damnest to fix it right away, no waiting, no letting God into those moments. I am most impatient with pain I think. I try to make others pain go away, often at the expense of my own peace. Or I try to push my pain, anger, sadness, hatred....all of those "bad" feelings out as soon as I get them because I have been taught that a good friend, sister, lover, human does not harbor those feelings. Don't get me wrong, I do agree that destructive emotions can be just that, destructive, and they can be transformative. So often we are told to push away these negative feelings, but I am coming to believe that if we don't really let what we feel effect us at that moment, for as long as we need that moment to be, then we are losing something. We are losing that connection with ourselves that is telling us to be angry, to be hurt, even to hate (if only until we can forgive). Speaking for myself, I have become so frightened of letting myself feel those negative feelings that I have continued to put myself in a place that I don't actually want to be. Waiting is not about always feeling secure, happy and content. I can only imagine what Mary and Joe were going through, excitement, joy, love, of course, but no doubt there was also fear of the unknown, physical pain of traveling, even some anger of being in this situation, seemingly without help. We like to think that the manger was a peaceful, beautiful, warm, calm place...but come on, they were on hay, with animals all around, I am sure it was loud, maybe smelt like shit, Mary was was in pain, Joseph scared, who knows if there was someone helping. Not really the way you want to bring a child into the world...and yet in the midst of all of this, leaving home, traveling far with no family, waiting for this baby inside to be born, they did the only thing they could. They kept going. They trusted in Love, God and took one step after the other. And hell, they did something right, 2000 odd years later we celebrate that journey, that birth, life.

I always thought waiting meant not doing anything, but that is not the case. When I wait in a lobby I usually have a book, when I wait for laundry I am usually cleaning something else, when I wait to go home for Christmas I still have to go to work. Waiting does not mean to stop. During these last days of advent I challenge myself, and anyone out there to steep in the waiting, let it soak into you, all of it: the excitement, uncertainty, pain, fear, anger, joy... Let life effect you the way it will, don't push away what comes up, but use it to wait in joyful anticipation...we do not just wait for the birth of Christ at Christmas, but for a renewed understanding of ourselves. If you have the belief that God is Love and Love is what connects us to each other and to our own self, then the celebration of this birth is the celebration of Ultimate Love coming into the world, transformative love that allows us to see each other for who we really are. This love is already in the world, we possess it, the joy of Christmas is that we get to remind ourselves of it and celebrate it with the people we love most in the world. I suppose that is most certainly worth the wait.

Its in the Conch

Playing the Conch Shells! I have gone conching before...caught them, watched them being cut up and ate them not moments after they were moving. Not one of my most compassionate moments, but it certainly was tasty. I was sure that would have been my most intimate moment with a conch shell, but life had other plans. The sound of this man playing a conch shell, making multiple notes come out of this abandoned aquatic house, created not only a desire for me to tap my foot and move my hips (which usually only happens with a glass of wine or an empty apartment and some slammin music!), but it was, hokey or not, inspiring. For me, when I see someone be, in a moment, a pure incarnation of themselves I get overwhelmed by the desire to find that place within my own life. And, I have to pat myself on the back for a moment, that usually comes with comparing and often ends with a sense of self-loathing for not being "there" yet. But as I walked out of this hall, still with that Puerto-Rican music dancing in my head, the freeness of people's spirits in my heart, I was utterly content. Could this be a tipping point? Maybe...what I know is that experiences come to us. If we make the decision to let them effect us for what they are, life can take us to some incredible places and introduce us to exactly who we are meant to be.

Tubas and Frubas

Yep...who knew how amazing tubas of all types would sounds when played together on a cold day in Boston I had the immense privilege of attending the Tuba Christmas for their 25th anniversary of playing Christmas songs in front of Quincy Market. I really must admit that this was quite the sight to see...people of all ages, literary 12-75 with all kinds of tubas and relatives of tubas: Euphonium, Sousaphone, and oh yes the Fruba (which of course doesn't exist at all, but when you are listening to Tuba music for hours in the freezing cold your mind comes up with all kinds of creative things). So a few things I learned while at Tuba Christmas:

1. Granite stone radiates coldness up through the soles of your shoes and into your chattering teeth, sparing no extremity of your body in its wake.

2. Singing and dancing along to the music, no matter what age, will bring joy to you and strangers watching you...as well as some off-handed looks

3. Apparently, in "We wish you a Merry Christmas" tidings are brought to "you and your kin"...not King?!

4. Traveling with a group of 15 or more family and friends is an insane idea...do it as much as possible!

5. Ask for the complementary cornbread at a restaurant, even when just ordering drinks, it is ALWAYS worth it

Now I just have to search for a "More Cow Bell" Christmas and this season will be complete.

Street Art

I have been photographing art I find on the streets of my neighborhood over the last few months. Here are some of my favorites so far.

Don't forget to look all around you for beauty, human-made or not.

A Few of My Favorite Things...A Thanksgiving Tribute

This year Thanksgiving had an interesting feel to it. A night that will forever be a reminder that good friends, too much food and candlelight conversation can be renewing in an unexpected way. Here are a few highlights from the table: Mom's spiced nut recipe housed in my favorite bowl next too two other favorite: cheese! and my valentine wine glasses. Beautiful tulips given to brighten my day. And a salad with the perfect amount of avocado. This year I found that it was the untraditional moments of thanksgiving that I loved the most, specially the news of new life!

Earth Under your Feet

Someone who I love dearly, and who has loved me at everyone moment we have known each other, introduced me to this song. I don't have much to say today, but this song sums up nicely what has been happening in this never ceasing mind of mine these days.

There's no such thing as perfect,

and if there is we'll find it when we're good and dead

Trust me I've been looking

but tonight I think I'll go and take a bath instead

And then maybe I'll walk a while

and feel the earth beneath me

They say if you stop looking

it doesn't matter if you find it

And whose to say that even if I did

it's what I'm really looking for

The Wailin Jennys

So here is to stepping to the edge of life, looking out to everything it has to offer, freaking out, and then enjoying the hell out of it, with the earth beneath our feet and a laugh in our breath.

Two Locations, One Commitment

I had the extreme privilege to share in life changing moments, read: marriage, with two very dear friends over the past week. These weddings came in very different forms. One was a crisp Sunday afternoon in golden red Vermont with 100 plus people followed by a rock band and a magically lite barn. The other was under a dramatically grey sky that broke for the moment of "I Do" with 30 plus people in bare feet on the shores of the Bahamas. Both were filled with joy and love, happiness and tears, new beginnings, fulfilled desires, family, friends and delicious food! As often as life throws curve balls, it is sharing in moments like these, the peaks of true friendship that chip away at clinging cynicism and remind me that although weddings are dramatic celebrations, it is all the common moments that lead up to them that solidify the powerful bond between two people.

So here are to moments shared by both Kat and Todd, and Nat and Ryan, whatever they be filled with: laughing at jokes, paying bills, cooking dinner, getting bad news, starting a family, bitching about the day, feeding the dog, may they be cherished because they are shared.

It's been a while, I know.

As I regain my focus I will post some pictures of art in the world.

As I welcome a new week, a new semester, a new season, and new strength...i send an image of LOVE. Simple, clear, and yet "O" so lopsided. (corny pun totally intended!)

So Wa(it) until next Sunday

Blue sky, eclectic and affordable art, famous hot dogs AND good friends?! A summer Sunday does not get much better than that. I highly recommend a visit to SoWa Sundays, every Sunday from 10-4 at 460 Harrison Ave. (in Boston) through Halloween.

My first go at a haiku, on buying art:

The sun warms the air

Sounds ride on the humid breeze

Colors strike...you know

Curls

I remember a friend of mine writing a short story in college about being sheared. She was studying in New Zealand, constantly surrounded by sheep, and wrote about the feeling of freedom and release that came with cutting her long blond hair up to her chin. If you have had long hair, you might know this feeling. As you grow your hair it becomes a part of you: lightening up as your body darkens with the sun, trapping the smells that you smell, taking your abuse as you put it up and pull it out of its "do". I remember making the decision to cut off my long hair, wanting a drastic change, but feeling anxious about how much of a change that would be. But I went through with it...and, well, that was fourth grade and I have yet to do it again! Sooo maybe being sheared is not my stitch, but an impromptu haircut on a warm summer day that brings back life to my curls...that I can do!

Might as well join them

It's good to have silly boys in my life to keep me smiling

Can you see the family resemblance?!

Tactile Senses (edited recipe)

Remember the first time you stuck a finger in neon colored play-dough and felt the cool, smooth but cakey texture squish through your fingers?...ok, well, maybe not the first time. But I do remember the last time I played with it...helping a little-one make multicolored hot dogs, that is, before today! I had the opportunity to mold, roll, shape and squish homemade play-dough with a room full of many playful people. I hope you had the chance to play today.

Here is a recipe to make your own (edible!) play-dough:

Materials:

3 cups flour

3 cups water

1 ½ cup salt

2 TBS veg oil

1 TBS cream of tartar

food coloring

Mix everything together.

Using a non-stick pan, pour the mixture in and stir over medium heat on stovetop. Make sure you are constantly watching it or it will burn. It takes about 10 minutes, or until it looks like play dough! You will see, it starts to harden.

Make sure you let it cool before playing with it.

Each batch makes 8 handfuls.

Enjoy your play!