Green Lake Gives Back

For some reason, I slept only 4.5 hours last night.  It was too early to get out of bed and walk just then, so I reviewed deep breathing,  The State of the World and Pending Deadlines for three hours while trying to go back to sleep.  At that point, I pulled on my walking clothes and went to Green Lake.  The walk never disappoints.  I always come away with more energy.

Daffodils!

A lake like glass, and not too many humans either.

And everything smoothed out inside my head!

 .

Pisces in the house

As early birthday wishes begin to arrive, I find myself looking back over a life that has, at least so far, proved to be a great adventure.  My education was all I could have hoped for -- indeed, it is what I would recommend to any student today who wonders if they need to know when they go to college what they wish to do with their degree(s).  When I went to college, I imagined that I would be a physical education teacher.  It did not take more than two quarters to disabuse me of that notion -- and to find an advanced rhetoric course that required that I write deliberately, and often.  A liberal undergraduate education led to the graduate program in English.  I more or less fell upon my first professional job after college, and from that point on I was able to leverage positions that I loved, where I was rarely bored.  Once I got bored, though, I moved on.  It may now look like my experience was continuous and deliberate, but its central premise was that I was doing interesting work that made a difference.  And that I was using my interest in reading, writing and thinking with each of those positions.

All these years later, I still am doing interesting work that matters.  Along the way, I've had experience in many types of institutions.  My husband made this power point slide for his lecture on the day that the proof of my first book arrived. He wanted to show his students the power of an English degree.

The biggest change-up over the years is that I'm now comfortable enough in my own skin to do several different types of things at the same time.  I don't work for one company, though I do teach only at the University of Washington.  My consulting practice feeds my research interests.  Writing and speaking are the icing on a cake that I have baked, from scratch.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank all the folks I've worked with over the years, as well as the friends and family that have had to put up with me across these adventures.  Your energy continues to feed my own.

Remembering Margaret Cecelia Hayes

It's my mother's birthday tomorrow, February 5th.  She survived both rheumatoid and osteo-arthritis, breast cancer, knee replacements and even a fusion of one knee because she so wanted to be able to walk.  She was one tough cookie.  She was an avid reader, and traveled from her books when she could not go in person. 

My sister Mary and I both resemble her in our direct approach to life, our interest in being students as much as teachers, and in our love of travel.

When I go to Amsterdam next week, I'll be going to museums she always wanted to see, and to Anne Frank's house as well.  That will be the best way I can think of to remember her and all she taught us over the years.

Happy birthday, Mother Dear!  When I'm in watercolor class tomorrow morning, I'll be painting poppies, the flower of remembrance.

Mapping 2014

Winding up the holidays is always as much of a joy as entering them.  Part of that movement toward the end of the year is an essential annual exercise I learned in 2009 from the four women who wrote Reboot Your Life.  It's similar to but different than making New Year's resolutions.  It's called the circle exercise.  I'm quoting from an earlier blog entry I wrote in 2011:

"One of the most interesting exercises is to set goals once a year that are achievable, and then take a look at the end of the year to see how you have done. You can read exactly how to undertake the "goals circle exercise" in the book written by the four Sabbatical Sisters -- Catherine Allen, Nancy Bearg, Rita Foley, and Jaye Smith -- titled Reboot Your Life: Energize Your Career & Life by Taking a Break available on Amazon. com.

This exercise is in the chapter titled "Living the Lifelong Sabbatical."

Make a circle and divide it into six to eight pie slices, which you then label with aspects of your life.  I use six slices, and they are labeled health, creativity, books, financial, career, and personal.

The next step is to identify five goals for the new year in each category.  This can take longer than one sitting; and indeed you'll find that some of the pie slices change from year to year because of projects you might undertake.  Once you've completed this portion of the exercise, then pick out the goal in each category that is most important to you.  Make a new circle with only a single goal in each slice, and keep it with you to remind yourself and review progress during the year.

All of the slices are designed to have equal weight so that you have begun to balance your time more evenly across these aspects of life.  Those of you who have never made a circle and divided it evenly in a deliberate attempt to re-balance your life might want to give it a try.  There's a certain lightness of spirit that comes from this exercise year after year. "

I completed most of my 2014 circles on an early morning walk at foggy Green Lake (photo above)  on New Year's Day.

Backing into the holidays

We had a wonderful evening in the heart of downtown last night, up 23 floors, admiring art and books and having terrific conversations with colleagues on the Seattle Public Library Foundation board.  Tonight, we're attending a combination potluck and group watercolor show at Montlake Community Center.  My teacher, Jan Morris, has invited students in all three of her classes to bring work to show.

Of course I would rather leave all my work at home.  I went back over everything I've painted so far, and decided to keep working on some pieces, and to toss others altogether.  These are the four I am taking, on the theory that my teacher was right and that, "once [you] get the hang of it, you'll be a bold painter."   The rule in our class is that we are not allowed to make negative comments about our own work or the work of others.  So after having looked at so much art over the years, I will try hard to give myself a break.

As I grade papers at the end of the quarter, and work on tweaking my course for the next quarter, I am slipping in home maintenance work and prep as we move full gear into dinners and parties to celebrate the season.  James arrives on Saturday evening, by which time I plan to have most of the work done and the holiday decorations up. 

His plane gets in too late to join us to walk at Green Lake on the annual "Pathway of Lights," an amazing celebration that includes carolers, hot drinks, and festive behavior. 
 

Photo: Amy Duncan

 All the setup for the lights is done by volunteers.  And this photo is taken before the coziness of darkness sets in for walkers.

On Sunday afternoon, I am hoping James and I can go for a walk at Dunn Gardens for the annual solstice walk, certain not to be so packed as the prior evening's event.

On Monday night, we sit down not just with our friend Hazard, but also with his two sons and our son, for what I hope will be a festive dinner that includes a pie made from Wild Mountain Blackberries collected in past summers, direct from the freezer of the late Diana Adams.

I am away at National Academy of Science meetings in Irvine from Wednesday to Friday afternoon, but back in time to set up for a weekend  open house that precedes the one my friend Suzie always has.

There will still be time to stroll through "Candy Cane Lane" by walking across the Ravenna Park bridge in our neighborhood, and to catch up with close friends who fly home for this time of the year over other gatherings for drinks or dinner.

We finish it all off on Christmas Eve in our Ravenna neighborhood with Luminaries, and a last stroll through streets filled with our neighbors.   

These are well-honed traditions for us.

And you know how the rest of it goes, just like other families across this country.

Happy holidays everyone!

Holiday Intentions

 

When a wreath arrives from Children's Hospital each year, we know it is from Hazard and Diana (this year, in spirit). And it signals the beginning of the holiday season.  We have a great deal to reflect upon this year, and simpler is the order of the day for gifts, gatherings and celebrations.

We lack for nothing, especially since James will be home for two weeks of the month.

Our children and grandchildren are all thriving, each uniquely himself or herself.

We'll celebrate with neighbors and friends later this month --- Leroy reminded me yesterday that our holiday open house is actually older than I remembered.  We started it in 1978, with a full contingent of neighbors, university colleagues, Seattle Art Museum staff and Seattle area press.

Since I'll teach my last class of the fall quarter this week, there is a bit of a break from routine for the rest of December, and thus an opportunity to mix things up a bit more.

I'm going to add a weekly yoga class to my workouts; and try to maintain two hours a week of painting even after this watercolor session has ended mid-month.  And I'm determined to actually take advantage of some of the invitations I usually can't accept this time of year, to catch back up with others.

If I play my cards right, I won't have to make new intentions for next year -- I will already be living them.

Shadow shapes

I spent two hours this morning trying to figure out how light falls on tulips.  As a photographer, I try to spot the source of light and the patterns that light makes before I shoot.  It did not help me a bit this morning.  The camera does one thing.  My hands and eyes just don't seem to get it.  Right now, I'm trying to understand whether Malcolm Gladwell's "Outliers" hypothesis on10,000 hours is what I am looking at if I want to paint well.

Vincent Van Gogh and his tulips

 One thing is sure, 10,000 hours or not -- I need to become more comfortable with the brush and with mixing color and understanding how to make different types of shadow shapes.  (Take a look at the master, above.)

So I will be converting a corner of my snug into a place where I can paint  every day, moving closer to the place where what I know I want to do and what I can actually do are the same.