Edward Abbey

I'd like to dedicate this blog post to my buddy, Carl, who has faithfully provided me with postcards of Yellowstone all week long. Better still, he's been putting these great Edward Abbey (one of my favorite authors) quotes on the back!

You wanted to bring me nature, CJ, and you did.

You ROCK!

"The most common form of terrorism in the USA is that carried on by bulldozers and chainsaws. It is not enough to understand the natural world; the point is to defend and preserve it. Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul."

"Better a cruel truth than a comfortable delusion."

"Freedom begins between the ears."

"Might does not make right but it sure makes what is."

Ansel Adams: Last day at the Corcoran Gallery

Both the grand and the intimate aspects of nature can be revealed in the expressive photograph. Both can stir enduring affirmations and discoveries, and can surely help the spectator in his search for identification with the vast world of natural beauty and the world surrounding him.
~ Ansel Adams

This afternoon, I hopped the Metro and wandered through the Corcoran Gallery's Ansel Adams photography exhibition. It was fascinating. Rooms upon rooms filled with his photographs - some of which I had never seen before. Some images were breathtaking, others were humorous and still others made me pause and wonder at his ability to capture subtlety.

I also learned some interesting factoids about Adams, which I will share with you here.

For example, did you know that his photographs of Yellowstone National Park (1942) were the last National Parks pictures he took before the US entered WWII? Apparently, America's entry into the war forced the US Department of the Interior to discontinue funding for the project.

Here's another tidbit. In 1933, Adams went to the An American Place gallery in NYC to meet the famous photographer Stieglitz. The first part of his meeting with Stieglitz did not go well; however, the great photographer finally told Adams that his photographs were some of the best he ever saw. Even better, he gave Adams a one person exhibit to display 45 photographs set against "cool, gray walls."

Adams later said that the exhibit was a revelation for him - as if he was seeing his work for the first time.

I've been lucky enough to see some of his photographs elsewhere; however, there was something magical about walking through this intimate gallery setting today. The muted light cast subtle shadows throughout the gallery, highlighting how Adams played with light and shadow in his own images.

With one particular photo "Clearing Winter Storm" (1927), one reviewer said that the light was "a kind of silver gilding in an otherwise gray day."

In short, the exhibit was just as the New York Times wrote of one of his exhibits in the 1930s:

"Photography by Ansel Adams, a Californian, strikingly captures a world of poetic form. His lens caught snow laden branches in their delicate tracery; shells embedded in sandstone; great trees and cumulus clouds. It is masterly stuff."

Reason 277 as to why I love Jane Austen

Why? Because of her mastery of the English language!!!

I just finished reading Northanger Abbey, which I adored. Young Catherine Morland is thrown into Bath society and must find her way through treacherous friends, lies and the mystery of Northanger Abbey. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Henry Tinley is there to help her along the way.

Read two of my favorite passages below:

"But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero into her way" (p. 14).

"And such is your definition of matrimony and dancing. Taken in that light certainly, their resemblance is not striking; but I think I could place them in such a view. You will allow, that in both, man has the advantage of choice, woman only the power of refusal; that in both, it is an engagement between man and woman, formed for the advantage of each; and that when once entered into, they belong exclusively to each other till the moment of its dissolution; that it is their duty, each to endeavor to give the other no cause for wishing that he or she had bestowed themselves elsewhere, and their best interest to keep their own imagination from wandering towards the perfections of their neighbors, or fancying that they should have been better off with any one else. You will allow all this?" (Henry Tinley speaking to Catherine Morland, p. 70).

Sigh.

Whatever happened to the art of conversation?

From Sunday's Washington Post

Now, this was a story I just had to share with all of you. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. It's just one more reason to come to the Baltimore/D.C. area next year!

Mystery Man's Annual Visit to Poe Grave
By BEN NUCKOLS The Associated Press Sunday, January 20, 2008; 1:40 AM

BALTIMORE -- Undeterred by controversy, a mysterious visitor paid his annual tribute at the grave of Edgar Allan Poe early Saturday, placing three red roses and a half-filled bottle of cognac before stealing away into the darkness.

Nearly 150 people had gathered outside the cemetery of Westminster Presbyterian Church, but the man known as the "Poe toaster" was, as usual, able to avoid being spotted by the crowd, said Jeff Jerome, curator of the Poe House and Museum.

The tribute takes place every Jan. 19 _ the anniversary of Poe's birth.

The visitor did not leave a note, Jerome said, electing not to respond to questions raised in the past year about the history and authenticity of the tribute.

Sam Porpora, a former church historian who led the fight to preserve the cemetery, claimed last summer that he cooked up the idea of the Poe toaster in the 1970s as a publicity stunt.
"We did it, myself and my tour guides," Porpora, a former advertising executive, said in August. "It was a promotional idea."
Porpora said someone else has since "become" the Poe toaster.

Jerome disputes Porpora's claims and says the tribute began in 1949 at the latest, pointing to a 1950 article in The (Baltimore) Evening Sun that mentions "an anonymous citizen who creeps in annually to place an empty bottle (of excellent label)" against the gravestone.
Jerome invites a handful of Poe enthusiasts to join him inside the church every year but withholds details of the tribute in an effort to help the toaster maintain his anonymity. He said the visitor no longer wears the wide-brimmed hat and scarf he donned in the past.

In 1993, the visitor left a note reading, "The torch will be passed." A later note said the man, who apparently died in 1998, had handed the tradition on to his two sons.

This year's visitor was the same man who has come to the grave site many times in the past, Jerome said.

"We recognize him from his build, the way he walks," he said. "It would be very easy for us, visually, to see if this were a different person."

Poe, who wrote poems and horror stories including "The Raven" and "The Telltale Heart," died Oct. 7, 1849, in Baltimore at the age of 40 after collapsing in a tavern. Next year will be the 200th anniversary of his birth.

Kelly: Life Out of Balance

I feel like my life should be aired on the Discovery Channel's "Planet in Peril" series.

While I'm a whole lot smaller than the Earth, I think that the good folk over there at Discovery could do an excellent segment on the ecosystem which is my life and the imbalance I've created for myself.

When I allow myself to giggle about my stressed-out situation (still acclimating from my move, dealing with work which doesn't quite grab me, being separated from my family, and still in the process of making friends), I like to imagine all my little cells banding together like some molecular Greenpeace, writing letters to my brain, urging, no...PLEADING for some balance to return to the life which is Kelly.

Yeah.

Helping this realization along is the tragic news that my darling Della (yes, I did name my computer) died rather tragically this week. I tried to resuscitate her. I shook her and said, "Della, Della, are you okay?" I watched the yellow flashing beep that was her battery slowly fade into oblivion.

Tears were shed.

Tissues were used.

I'm still in mourning.

Still, I'd like to think that Della's passing was really her attempt to save me from the perils of being available 24-7 to all the groups for which I work/volunteer. Prior to her "passing", I felt as if I was running on potent shots of espresso daily (truly a wonder, as I don't drink coffee). I was agitated. Antsy. Disconnected. Stressed out. Sleep deprived. Punchy. Namely, I was living my life in a constant state of agitation and flurry, and I had no real plans on coming up for air. A F-5 tornado would have nothing on me.

What's worse? I began to feel incompetent and developed low self-esteem because I couldn't give any one project or relationship the attention it needed to thrive. Ultimately, I felt like a failure. While that's probably an overstatement, it's how I felt then. The reality, though, was subtler - my health had begun to suffer (getting ill more often).

Quick to learn my lesson, I've slowed myself down. I've been going to sleep earlier and awake feeling more refreshed. I have more time on my hands now that I don't have ready access to a computer (gotta love the public library!), so more time is spent actually speaking to those I love and reading books and catching up on movies. It's been nice.

My new computer is set to arrive this week (no worries...I'm already thinking up names), but I find that I'm not as thrilled as I thought I'd be. I thought I'd feel ecstatic because it felt odd not to have a computer handy. I was used to the constant access and the instant satisfaction I felt in replying to emails/projects as they came in, which meant that I spent more time on the Internet than was necessary.

All I can say is that I don't feel that way any more. I've come to see that living a balanced is the only way any truly meaningful work gets done in this world. Why? Because it probably means you're connected to your core, your passions and your life's path. When you work from this place of strength, much more gets done and it's easier to get it done because it feels effortless.

This "unplugging" has also afforded me a chance to consider all the many groups to which I give my time and energy, and it's making me rethink how many of those are really in line with my core and what I came here to do.

It may be too early to tell, but I have a hunch that the coming months will see a reordering of my priorities. I think I'm going to spend more time indulging in that which feeds me (writing, yoga, painting) than pushing to give so much of myself to others. I like giving, but I have to give to myself first.

In short, this past week has taught me that:

1. Whirlwinds and tornadoes only destroy.
2. Harsh rains never soak the earth.
3. If you want to make a real difference in the world, you have to make a difference in your own life first. The first step? Really loving yourself and knowing that you have worth!

I LOVE New York!

It's odd. After living up and down the East Coast for years and loathing the caffeinated pace and social mores of some of its citizens, I have come to genuinely like some of its cities.

However, I love New York.

It's true. I do. I even want one of those ubiquitous "I love New York" t-shirts, complete with the big red heart.

I'm giggling as I write this because I *never* thought those words would ever leave my mouth - EVER. I'm just not a city girl. My motto has always been: love to visit, happier to leave.

In thinking about it, it's not just that I love New York. It's that I really love being an American, something that didn't strike until my recent trip to London.

In the spirit of honesty, when I stepped onto the plane to return to the States, I was thrilled to return home, not just to the city in which I live but to a country that has allowed me to become who I am today.

I think that many Americans lose sight of what this country is about. It's so easy to do, especially now. It's so easy to forget that what this country represents is deeper than any political entity or government could suggest. I would like to think this country's core is deeper than anything any of us could imagine and that it will survive anything any of us can throw at it.

We are so lucky to live within its borders, even though America has its fair share of problems, issues, concerns, grievances, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

For example, I take for granted every day the privileges I have simply because I am an American.

The privileges I have as an American woman.

Like others, I have criticized this country, wished it would do a better job reaching out to its fellow citizens, both here and around the world, hoped it could act as a light in this world. And, I think for some folk out there, it has.

For others, it has not.

I think that every country out there has something special about it and its people. Maybe it's the landscape or food or music or rich traditions. I wasn't sure what America's quality was until the days directly following 9/11 when I listened to what the world said about it.

What struck me over and over again is that America is seen by others as a ray of hope in an already ravaged world. It was as if the attacks across the country on 9/11 had some how damaged America's innocence and optimistic spirit and, at least at first, the rest of the world leapt up to protect it - to protect some fragile sliver of...je ne sais quoi.

I'm not going to get into what has transpired since then and what the world thinks of the U.S. now. What I will say is that New York, for me, was magical after my return from London.

The funny was that I was only there to search for a wedding dress with my friend, Lauren. This simple trip and subsequent time spent at her excellent Bed and Breakfast became something I don't think I had anticipated.

These new emotions still catch me off guard, and I'm still trying to make sense of it. I can state the obvious:

Where London was polite, NYC was in your face with AT-TI-TUDE. There was no "Please, mind the gap" on the NYC subway. Instead, it was "Get IN!!! I'm closin' the doors - NOW!!!" The city has a vibrancy about it that London lacked. It's a cacophony of shouting, yelling, honking, bustling and jostling. New smells and sounds and sights constantly barrage your senses. There is simply too much ponder.

***

In short, it's a city of possibilities. As I bounced around some of its neighborhoods and avenues, I found myself wondering what my ancestors thought of the place when they immigrated here in the 19th and 20th centuries. What were they thinking from the boats? Where they afraid? Jubilant? Excited? Nervous? I wish I knew.

What I do know is how I felt when I walked its streets a few weeks ago. I was proud and had a sense of belonging I hadn't known before. And, while it's true that I'm not a native New Yorker, I do have New York blood in me, courtesy of my grandmother, who grew up in Brooklyn but who died this past fall.

As much as I have come to recognize my love for NYC, this isn't to say that I want to move there tomorrow - I don't. Still, what this recent jaunt into the city reminded me was that despite America's flaws and the mistakes of our leaders (and there are many), I'd still pick America over any other country in the world to lay down my hat.

London and Travels

A London neighborhood. "Take Courage", indeed!

Nobody is healthy in London, nobody can be. ~ Jane Austen

Sigh. No one knows the truth like Jane Austen! London, though exciting, just isn't my cup of tea. I've been there six different times and each visit finds me counting down the days until I leave its urban pulse behind.

I'm just not a city person, methinks. Give me the wilds of nature and its moods any day! The quick pace and constant onslaught of cities drain me more than anything - I get moody, I feel out of sorts, I become depressed, heck, I even regress to the lovely age of FOUR! Don't get me wrong. I love popping into cities for several hours, but living there? No thank you. Give me green acres any day!

This is all quite fresh in my mind because a few days before Christmas, I hopped the pond to visit London. After 24 hours of no heat or hot water on my first day there, I fled to Oxford.

I spent the Christmas holiday in a charming cottage nestled in a quaint village just a few miles outside of Oxford's city center. My hosts, Bruce and Margaret, immediately made me feel at home, and I filled my days there rather merrily - rambling through the countryside, touring Oxford's twisting streets and conversing about everything under the sun.

But, all good things must come to an end. So I returned to dreary London and learned to make *real* spaghetti from an Italian -- the highlight of my stay in London town.

In short, I'm glad I went to London. However, I've also never been so happy to return to America. I just don't think it will ever be my favorite city.

A Pause for Beauty #233

I think Heron Dance is in tune with my life.

I've believed this for some time now, but I continue to be astonished at the relevance of its messages, especially those found in its A Pause for Beauty series. I don't know how it happens but the week's focus often touches upon a challenge through which I'm working. Today's is no exception. I'm sharing it in its entirety below. Enjoy!

***

Dear Heron Dancers,

I spent a lot of time this past weekend trying to narrow down and think through what I really mean by the statement, “the gentle arts of a well-lived life”. I thought, skied in the woods, meditated and made notes in my journal. When I started to meditate, the image of a teeter-totter surfaced.

Every time I thought of one guiding principle, a countervailing, equally valid principle came to mind. A teeter-totter is about balance. It is also about leverage—move the fulcrum to the right place and you can accomplish more with less effort. I’ve long noticed that people who accomplish a lot in life put careful thought into where they put the fulcrum. They look for places where a small amount of energy can produce a significant result, and they protect their energy. The first requirement of a balanced life is a quiet center. A mind that is rested and relaxed will produce a better quality of thought, and thus more effective work. The root of creativity is in the murky waters of deep imagination, and that process too requires a mind that is well rested and in touch with its quiet center.

I recently read somewhere that “rest is spiritual.” I think there is an element of magic to all of this. If you believe that there are forces out there larger and greater than ourselves, then a goal of life is to align yourself with them, to serve them, and to do work that honors them (or Them). But nobody sends us a postcard telling us what our work should be. It takes receptivity, a quiet mind, and sharp antennae. Effort, hard work and discipline definitely have roles to play, but energy has to be focused in the right direction, and that direction needs to be in sync with whatever Greater Powers exist out there. When you find the right work, and apply yourself to it, my experience has been that doors open and things fall into place.

But the first prerequisite for work of love is deep rest.

In celebration of the Great Dance of Life, Rod MacIver

***

Hear! Hear!

Reflections on 2007

2007.

What a blur of a year! If 2006 was a walk through hell's dark terrain, then 2007 was a walk in Elysium. Although, to be fair, I should give 2006 a little credit. I did land in Montana and was guided out of the darkness by several kindred spirits.

Though I may have a few drops of Romanian blood in me, I've long considered myself a gypsy, roaming this world without feeling rooted anywhere. Over the course of those travels, there have been a few places which have felt like home (Ireland's west coast and Jerusalem), but I never stayed long enough in either place to be totally embraced and soothed by the land.

But, upon landing in Montana in the fall of 2006 and staying through the summer of 2007, I felt anchored to that land and immediately claimed it as "home." Montana courses through my blood. Perhaps it always has. Regardless, I'm enjoying my love affair with the state, its people and its terrain. In fact, my heart is still there, sitting by its rocky riverbanks and traipsing through its sage coated hills.

I dove a little bit deeper into my own terrain this year, learning more about my non-negotiables and necessities. I'll share the highlights here:

1. I need nature and silence to balance and restore myself.

2. America is an amazing place to call home. Something I was reminded about while driving across the country this summer with Gabbow, my 82-year-old grandmother. Read highlights here.

3. Yoga soothes me and should be done more often. Same goes for my meditation practice.

4. Sugar is not my friend - leads to mercurial mood swings and crankiness.

5. Children's literature is a fabulous way to shake writer's block.

6. Spending the holidays away from my family leads to an almost inconsolable loneliness.

7. Unexpected and often important messages are given while in transit, especially in airports.

8. Sometimes when we're afraid to leap into the unknown, we need to remind ourselves that we may just learn to fly. Read more here.

9. I have wonderful friends who I cherish and feel blessed to know.

10. Sometimes one has to part ways with kindred spirits along life's journey in order to evolve as human beings. The hardest part is knowing when to say goodbye and mustering the courage to follow that instinct.

11. Love comes when you don't expect it.

12. My gut is never wrong. I should listen more closely to its messages and trust their veracity sooner.

One lesson/realization for each month.
I know there are others but I'm not sure they're ready for harvest just yet.

Perhaps 2008?

New space, new thoughts

Hello, All.

Welcome to the home of my new blog - an expansion of "What is Worth Knowing" . After some discernment, I decided to switch over to Blogger to make it easier for folk to post comments AND because its software is easier to use.

***

Ah. The beginning of a new year is always so refreshing, though I have to admit that I usually think about a new year beginning NOT on January 1st but on my birthday, which is happily nestled near the beginning of summer.

2007 rushed by at speeds with which I'm less than comfortable. Still, it was a bonny year, filled with much growth and many more surprises. I feel blessed.

The end of 2007 was especially auspicious, celebrating Christmas in Oxford at the "home" of my gracious hosts, Margaret and Bruce. They are lovely people with generous spirits, and I benefited immensely from their hospitality, wisdom and deep appreciation for the world and its inhabitants.

I'll share more about my recent trip to the UK, as well as more detailed musings on 2007, in my next post, so stay tuned.

Having just crossed the threshold into 2008, I pause and wonder what this year will bring me. Some experiences already are carved into the calendar: my wedding (June 28), attending Saint Mary's College Christian Culture Lecture Series and participating on its board (September 18-19), and acting as a bridesmaid at a dear friend's wedding (October 18). Still, I wonder what else will find me this year.

'Tis exciting to think about, isn't it?