journal

eye-level

 

Again, the week zooms by and so much on the edge of my tongue to share. I will not remember all of it. The pictures help. With the incentive of text photo exchanges with a friend, I've begun to snap things hither and thither, not thinking about the "why" of it, just enjoying its "what-ness." Brief moments entered and just as quickly, exited. I'm lingering only long enough to remind myself where I was. And I'm finding, with just that simple instruction - remember - the self-editors and self-critique fall away. I simply want to see, and to capture that moment of seeing. So I'm learning to scoot down a little, scoot closer, allow an intimacy to form - a short-term one - that gets me eye-level to the things I might normally miss. It's so much less pressure than trying to figure out the big picture.

 

And so:

 

- downed leaves on a bridge railing on my afternoon run
- the rim of the gin gimlet on a Thursday night
- flip-flops at the Apple Harvest Fair
- humor in a shop window
- a lone duck at Puffer's Pond
- flea market finds
- a blur of myself
- produce at the Wednesday market
- last-of-the-season Sungolds
- close-ups of fresh art
- railings on the ramp to the George Washington Bridge
- sunset after a rain
- Brave Girls Art with a Twist
- clouds then clearing in the Berkshires
- the emergence of fall

 

- and something of peace descending in my bones.

 

. . . . .

 

More soon about the specifics, including: the price of truth, awkward family photo re-enactments, the beauty of label-makers, and a Byron Katie workshop at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health. Stay tuned.