I took this series of photos last fall, and for some reason never got around to posting them here.

Local chestnuts, local Brussels sprouts,
and the last Delicata from our summer garden.

I had a wonderful Butternut squash to shoot when the weekend began, but I ate it. And we ate all of the orange colored soup too, before I could grab a shot — as well as all of the Pecan Chocolate pie I picked up from the local bakery on Wednesday night. If I'm going to practice prop styling, I guess I'd best practice a little self-control first.

Prop Styling?

A friend recently asked me if I'd ever considered doing prop styling, and since I was already dragging things into my makeshift photography studio this weekend I thought why not practice a bit of it, just for fun? I've certainly art directed prop stylists — but it's a whole other thing to be the one responsible for assembling separate elements into a whole, a bit of a puzzle. I missed the moment of satisfaction that comes when you see something that been professionally shot by a professional photographer with the right lights, lens, and camera — but still, what fun this was. And what a mess I've made of the house in the process.

This Murano glass pendant was a gift from my brother to my mom. I remember how touched she was to receive it. My makeshift lighting/camera setup is hardly doing justice to its color palette of purple, caramel, and metallic gold. What I envisioned was a purple velvet ribbon tying the pendant, metallic gold flakes in place of the scattered beads, and beige linen in place of the antique newspaper — but I substituted with what I had on hand.

Some of you might remember when I bought this butterfly pendant from the Lola Collection on Etsy. If I were to reshoot this I would move the pendant slightly to the left and the butterfly to the right.

The tiny pill box in this photo belonged to my grandmother, the seed bead choker was a gift from me to my mom, and two summers ago she picked out the necklace of large glass squares for me on her last visit to Northampton. I painted the watercolor wash years ago for a different project.

Tomorrow I'll share more images. I don't where this will go, if anywhere, but it's a fun way to practice composition and a great excuse to play with both one's camera and random stuff. It helps train the eye to small details. Working with the jewelry reminded me of the gorgeous set-up shots in the Sundance catalog, one I'll never opt out of for the inspiration alone.

Dear Diary,
Today I stayed home and ignored everything in favor of creating some moody images. And tomorrow I may just do more of the same.
Sincerely yours,
m.

Change, and Thankfulness

He is a wise man who does not grieve for the things which he has not,
but rejoices for those which he has. — Epictetus

Thanksgiving preparations this year consisted of taking a jar of homemade green salsa off the shelf and buying a bag of tortilla chips at the local store to bring for munchies tomorrow. What a change from the years of hosting. Change, however, is a guest who shows up whether we invite it or not, so best to just relax, sit quietly, and see what it has to teach us.

Change forces us to reassess. What's important? What's just superficial? What brings a sense of lasting tranquility and joy to our lives? Whatever that is, seek it out, and don't settle for less.

The pilgrims who we'll be celebrating tomorrow left their homes and sailed across the ocean towards a completely foreign land to gain what? Independence — and the ability to live their lives according to their own standards and beliefs and not those of others. It was important enough for them to risk their lives for it. Can you imagine the changes they experienced when they decided to come to a wild and unsettled place they knew nothing about? In his lecture on Omens a few Friday's ago, Dr. Svoboda said, "The person who leaves the known road for the unknown knows what he is leaving behind, but not what is coming ahead." It takes a lot of courage to be that person.

But that fierce idealism and enviable courage isn't all we're celebrating tomorrow — more importantly we're celebrating the tolerance and cooperation between the pilgrims and the Native Americans who taught them how to survive in the harsh new world — how to develop their skills in hunting, fishing, tapping trees, and growing native crops. Skills that people who value self-sufficiency are still passionate about today, as a matter of fact.

Idealism, independence, tolerance, self-sufficiency, change — and what was gained from change when cooperation replaced fear and resistance — these are pretty inspiring concepts to celebrate I think.

A happy Thanksgiving to all of you. When change comes, may we be wise and humble enough to learn from whatever it brings to our table.

photo by j drew.

Circling 'round, and sometimes 'round and 'round

Wow. This is a very busy time of year, isn't it? Along with deadlines and freelance work and my new-found interest in filling in every gap, hole, crack and space in this old house with silicone caulk, I have lots and lots of thinking to do lately, about some very major decisions that are asking to be made. Demanding, actually.

Luckily thinking happens to be one of my favorite activities (though the benefits I derive from it are up for debate, and the caulking is pretty fun too). Thinking only gets one so far, of course — resolution is a nice outcome, if only I could work my way through the layers and layers of stuff that every aspect of my life seems to be entangled in. I don't mean the physical stuff (though there is plenty of that too), but the emotional and mental accumulations. The stuff you can't advertise on Craigslist or put out on the side of the road with "free" sign hanging on it. Imagine if you could?

Twenty years of self-doubt. $10. You will need a dump truck to haul it away with.

Free to a good home: nagging worry about the future. Gets along well with the desire to please everybody all of the time.

But this post isn't about sticky stuff — or even about thinking — but about yoga, which is all about jumping in and doing, which is what makes yoga such a good practice. You could sit around all day and think about yoga, but until you actually commit to moving your limbs in some direction or another, you won't progress. I suspect that some of my circular thinking lately is about as effective as a mental tree pose and I should perhaps commit to moving. But I digress.

Tonight I'm recovering from an Ashtanga class I took last night. Ashtanga was the first type of hatha yoga I tried, a couple of years ago when I naively thought yoga was just another form of exercise. Compared to the Anusara I've been doing for the past 8 months there's a very specific flow of postures in this practice, which happen one after the other in quick succession. The focus is on Vinyasa, a movement and breathing system of one breath for each movement. This combination of ujjayi, or "victorious breath" along with movement generates a lot of heat, meant to cleanse the internal body of impurities and toxins. I left the studio drenched. There are also bhandas, internal seals/locks of the body's pranic energy system, and dristhi, a specific gazing point for each asana or posture, none of which happen to be the rear-end of the person next to you, thank goodness.

I must admit that when I tried Ashtanga the first time I thought all this Sanskrit mumbo-jumbo was besides the point. Let's work up a sweat and get buff! was about the level of my interest. The rest was too foreign to grasp. In other words, I wasn't at all ready. But coming back to it now, especially after this year of dedicated study and meditation, I find the tradition's ancient system of how's and why's utterly fascinating. I also find it funny that my concern with practicing Ashtanga now is that its intense heat might throw off my already-prone-to-overheating Pitta dosha. Something I could not have dreamed about worrying about two years ago. Pitta dosha?

Sometimes we come at things before we're ready, only to circle back later and discover the ways in which we've grown. Sometimes we just circle around and around in our own heads for a while. I'm not sure if I'll adopt Ashtanga as a new practice, but it's nice to feel that if I do, I'm slightly more prepared for what it has to offer. Meanwhile, I still have lots of thinking and learning to do. And caulking.

Bhakti comes to Rutgers

500 students turned out for this Bhakti event at Rutgers with The Mayapuris and Radhanath Swami. Amazing!

November 19

On this first anniversary of her death, I prefer to remember my mom like this — smiling and laughing. I think she would have preferred it too. This photo was taken during my 36th birthday dinner with my family. She made me both a cake and a pie that year, and as I recall the abundant coconut flakes on the cake ended up on the counter, the floor, the table, our clothes and everywhere else, creating quite a mess.

We all spent a lot of time laughing that afternoon — about the coconut flakes and everything else. I even have a short video of her singing a rousing rendition of happy birthday and finishing it up with "May Go-od bless you. May Go-od bless you. May Go-od bless Melanie. May Go-od bless you."

This past summer my 70-year old neighbor admitted to me that she still misses her mother every day. I definitely believe that, because I will miss mine too. May God bless all of us who have experienced sickness, loss, and grief.

Years ago a friend and photographer I used to work with regularly sent me this card in the mail — a photograph he took in Canada of a storefront sign bearing my family name. I uncovered it during one of my recent organizing and purging binges.

Last Friday the two women behind the counter of The Bookmill, where I was selling several box-loads of books, were quick to comment when they saw my signature. "Happy heart," one said, "it's almost unfair that someone could have such a poetic name." I suppose there is some truth in that. I do try to live up to its romance, if that's any consolation to anyone.

After ridding myself of many extra pounds of books I wandered into the spirituality section and began to acquire more. That's how life goes, isn't it? I only purchased three, however — a book by Robert Svoboda that I've been curious about, another called Ganapati, Song of the Self about a certain elephant-headed deity we all know and love, and finally J. Krishnamurti's Commentaries on Living, which was recommend to me last summer at Ananda Ashram.

What charms me the most about used book stores is my belief that what's on the shelf at the time of one's visit is exactly what you are meant to find — even if you didn't know it was what you were looking for. That was certainly the case when I picked up Swami Muktananda's Where Are You Going? last December. At the time I had no idea what I was looking for, I just knew that I was looking. This year I know a lot more about what I'm searching for, but still need help zeroing in on it.

What's better in either case than reading the words of those who have embarked on their own quests? I suppose the category could be called "spiritual arm-chair travel." Except that I'm doing some of my own traversing as well. There are several different ways to cover ground.

Books in hand, I stepped up to the counter and ordered the same soba noodle lunch I enjoyed last year, and also scored the same small table in the corner, despite the café being almost full.

Lady Killigrew café, 2009

Lady Killigrew café, 2010

Notice the absence of beer, canned or otherwise. The taste for it fell away last winter and never returned. Being a creature of habit, at first I would come home from work and pour myself a frosty glassful despite my lack of desire for it. Then, after a few sips, I would notice my stomach burning. A few sips more and the edges of a headache would begin to creep behind my eyes. After a few weeks of this negative reinforcement from my physical body my mind threw in the towel and surrendered. Now I drink cider, or water, or tea, and don't give a damn about beer. How strange. With all the purging and organizing of "stuff" lately I'm just struggling to bring what's going on around me into balance with what's going on inside of me.

With or without beer it was a fine bowl of noodles, a beautiful view of the blue river rushing by outside the dusty windows, and a quiet place to reflect on things I've learned in the past year — and things I'd like to learn in the year to come. As many of you know my years begin and end on November 19th now.

When things aren't what they appear to be...

Tweenerific

Don't worry, nobody is getting spoiled around here...

It must be the holidays...

I don't know about you, but my mailbox has been overloaded with catalogs these past few weeks. A few I am interested in looking at. Most I am not. When I bring in the inevitable stack I sit down on the couch and immediately log on to my account at CatalogChoice.org. Their site enables me to opt out of the many lists I find myself on, and I've been doing so since 2008. So far I've personally saved 2 fully grown trees, 686 pounds of greenhouse gas, 1,650 pounds of solid waste, and 243 gallons of water!

Heart Sighting...

The Return of Tweener

After being gone for over a month Tweener (pictured here sun bathing last summer) reappeared this morning, sitting in a flower bed beneath a bird feeder. I had my back to the window, working on the laptop, when J came in from the kitchen.

"There's another cat out there" he said peering past my shoulder, "hey, it's Tweener!"

I turned to look but couldn't see any cat. That's impossible I thought.

But sure enough, Tweener has come home as mysteriously as he disappeared, a lot skinnier but otherwise intact, meowing his little high-pitched meow and revisiting all the rooms in the house.

I guess counting the big-nosed orange cat who is still around and acting relatively sane, we now have three cats.

World Kindness Day

I'll never forget the path to our family's mailbox and the anticipation-filled ritual of fetching the mail. In summer warm, shallow puddles formed in the low spots of our paved driveway and I could leave a trail of skinny wet footprints on the pale concrete leading back to the kitchen door. Autumn brought with it a rain of oak leaves and acorns, winter filled those low spots with slippery ice to slide across.

There was usually at least one envelope or package with my name across it, a simple joy guaranteed by having pen pals around the globe, grandparents in upstate NY who liked to write, and owning a book called Free Stuff for Kids that provided ample opportunities for unusual mail.

Mail made such an impression on me that I still have every card and letter, sorted by sender, in a large container in the attic.

When I stumbled across the organization Hugs & Hopes for Sick Children a few months ago I knew immediately that sending "happy mail" to kids living with terminal disease was a cause that resonated with me. When I read about the unimaginably painful challenges these kids and their families cope with I'm reminded of how very easy I have it in comparison, and how lucky I was to be able to walk to the mailbox as a child with no cares in the world beyond is there a letter for me inside?

This week I've finally been assembling small packages, cards and postcards to send out to H&H kids in honor of World Kindess Day. Thanks to Se'lah and Anyes for providing me with the motivation to finally get this random act of kindess accomplished — and thanks to those of you who decided to join in today! I believe our combined efforts will resonate out like a wave into a world that needs all the kindness it can get.

Tonight: Understanding Omens

"One not knowing a land asks of one who knows it — he goes forward instructed by the knowing one. Such, indeed, is the blessing of instruction, one finds a path that leads him straight onward." — Rig Veda 10.32.7

I suspect (and hope) that many of you who read this blog might be interested in tuning in to a live broadcast from the Ayurvedic Institute tonight, where Robert Svoboda, B.A.M.S, will be holding a weekend-long seminar about nimittajnana, the knowledge of omens. This will be his introductory talk for the seminar (which I would have loved to attend) which should be fascinating to anyone interested in learning the language of events.

From the event literature:

An omen is a message from Reality, written in the Book of Nature, a dispatch composed in the language of events like the flights of birds, incidents occurring during travel, the streaking of meteors through the skies, and other such synchronies. We who are literate tend to believe that all knowledge worthy of the name can be consigned to print, when in reality the deepest, most meaningful truths are those that cannot be put into human language. Though information is freely delivered today to all who can read, veritable knowledge has become harder than ever to procure. Even India's classical vidyas emphasize what can be conveyed in words, when what is most real, and most important in life can only be verbalized indirectly.

The broadcast begins at 7pm Mountain Time, (for those of us on the east coast that is 9pm). This will be Dr. Svoboda's last lecture in New Mexico for a while, as he is about to embark on a 3 year sabbatical beginning on Mahasivaratri 2011 (March 3).

I hope some of you will be watching it along with me!

World Kindness Day

How many of you know that November 13th is World Kindness Day?

The purpose of World Kindness Day is to look beyond ourselves, beyond the boundaries of our country, beyond our culture, our race, our religion; and realise we are citizens of the world. As world citizens we have a commonality, and must realise that if progress is to be made in human relations and endeavours, if we are to achieve the goal of peaceful coexistence, we must focus on what we have in common.

I didn't know about World Kindness Day until my friends Se'lah and Anyes teamed up to bring the celebration to the blogisphere by suggesting we make it a day for Random Acts of Kindness. Their theme is "Lift as You Climb" a beautiful suggestion in and of itself. You can still join the group of people participating by visiting the links to either of their blogs above.

What on earth will I do to celebrate? Actually, I already have this figured out, as it's a little project I've wanted to get involved in for a while and I simply needed a prompt/shove in order to pull it together. I'll tell you about it on the 13th — and I hope you'll sign up to participate in the day and inspire us all with your ideas!

Six Senses Sunday #66

Taste:
• Coconut rice, local tempeh pan-fried with onions, garlic, cumin seeds and garam masala, and local swiss chard, steamed with a splash of umeboshi vinegar
• One of our all-time favorite recipes: Caramelized Tofu with Brussels Sprouts
• Peanut butter cookies sweetened by the fact that they were left-over prasad from a kirtan the night before
• Sesame milk — one tablespoon tahini and one tablespoon raw sugar per cup of milk, warmed on the stove and stirred to blend the tahini...a heavenly warm up on a cold night
• Squash soup that got all volcanic on the stove top, and cornbread that refused to cook in the center
• J's homemade apple pie with ginger and a spicy whole-wheat crust — made with apples from the ancient trees in our yard

See:
• A strange new orange cat has moved in, though he won't let us anywhere near him yet
• Friends joining us for an autumn meal and woods walk!
• Tree limbs as gray as mist at the edge of the field
• At kirtan, as the evening progresses and the windows cloud with condensation, a heart appears
• Clocks that tell differing times today, depending on how hard they are to reach

Touch:
• Hugging my friend's grieving wife after bringing her a Ganesh like mine and having a good cry together
• Feet sticking to the floor where I'd just filled in some gaps with silicone caulk
• When I pause between sentences, I put my index finger against the tip of my nose

Feel:
• Like hibernating and hiding in my house all winter
• Grateful that my relationship with J is the one thing in my life that doesn't cause me stress
• As I purge some old mementos I pause to slide handwritten letters out of envelopes and find I have no remembrance of having read them before, or even of who that younger woman was that opened her mailbox to find them years ago

Hear:
• J thwaping his bass in his studio above the bedroom
• An asphalt roof shingle sliding down the roof and onto the ground. Definitely time to fix the roof
• The good news that my ex has finally moved on and purchased a home with his new love
• Jehovah's Witnesses knocking at the door, getting a good look at the barking dog on the other side of it and quickly deciding our salvation can wait 'till later

Smell:
• Woodsmoke seeping in the window, cause for concern
• A whiff of the neighbor's goats, another cause for concern
• Fresh white paint on my closet door

Leaves and Such

This looks like a must-watch...

Burzynski is the story of a medical doctor and Ph.D biochemist named Dr. Stanislaw Burzynski who won the largest, and possibly the most convoluted and intriguing legal battle against the Food & Drug Administration in American history.

His victorious battles with the United States government were centered around Dr. Burzynski’s belief in and commitment to his gene-targeted cancer medicines he discovered in the 1970′s called Antineoplastons, which have currently completed Phase II FDA-supervised clinical trials in 2009 and could begin the final phase of testing in 2010—barring the ability to raise the required $150 million to fund them.

In her review of the documentary for The New York Times last June Jeannette Catsoulis had this to say about Dr. Burzynski, ". . . a stoic victim of patent fraud, government harassment and scientific sabotage. No one appears to contest the efficacy of his treatment; the problem, the film suggests, is a pharmaceutical industry with nothing to gain — and much to lose — from the introduction of a highly successful, nontoxic competitor to chemotherapy and radiation."

This documentary doesn't seem to be available on Netflix yet, but I for one am eager to learn more about both Dr. Burzynski's trouble-making cancer treatment and what the FDA had to say about it.

Trees that Twist, Trident, and Tumor

Mushrooms Mushrooms Everywhere...

A couple of weekends ago I took so many photos on our hike through the woods that I couldn't find the time to either process or post them. So I think for the next three mornings we'll start the day with a walk through the woods.