Daisies

                 You, gentle and white sit on a cushion of sunshine. You embody happiness.  

A wise actress, after receiving a bouquet of daisies exclaimed, "Daisies are the friendliest flower."  This is a statement that I stand behind.  

What I love about this flower is the simplicity.  A daisy awakens a youthful joy in me.  I love that they are an every mans flower, they are everywhere in the summer and if there was enough time in the day, bouquets could go for miles.  They dance, and seem to glow in the sunshine.  They are pleased to simply exist.  

Summer time

Those were the days, those lazy summer days when time seemed to stay still.  When a backyard became a jungle or a tree house transformed into a palace.  It was amazing how holding a tiny metal race car felt like I was behind the wheel, or that our dreams still could become a reality.  There was wonder behind every activity and a simplicity in our expectations.  Perhaps this is what the world is missing now.  The child-like innocence and perspective.    Those were the years when things where black and white, and shades of grey were reserved for the shadows on the wall.   Where does this youthful optimism go?   Why do things have to be complicated and intricate? 

happy place

I watched yesterday as a meadow seemed to come alive as wind dusted over it. It seemed as though jolts of lighting-like wind surged through it as patterns formed on the pond in front of me and the grasses sang and swayed happily around me.  As birds played above, diving from great heights down towards the water and then, as if in a moment of panic tilted their noses only to settle in the tall grass, I sat there silently mesmerized by the artistry that surrounded me. From the finesse of the feathered to the harmony created by the wind and grass, the moment felt peaceful as the sun settled in the western sky.


I find myself in moments like this and it's places like this where I can collect my anxious thoughts, and sift through my worries.  There I am gently reminded I can lay my burdens down at the feet of the creator of Heaven and Earth and he cares.


²² And he said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. ²³ For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. ²⁴ Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! ²⁵ And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?^{[a] 26} If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? ²⁷ Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin,^[b] yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ²⁸ But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! ²⁹ And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. ³⁰ For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. ³¹ Instead, seek his^[c] kingdom, and these things will be added to you.
³² “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. ³³ Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ³⁴ For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Luke 12:22-34

Do Not Be Anxious

 

 

butterflies II

I thought for sure I would have found them lifeless and limp lying at the bottom of that forgotten jar deep in the forest. But there they were, a live and well proving that I am not broken.  Their little wings beat effortlessly now in my stomach whenever you give me that smile, or take my hand when I least expect it. My little butterflies are resilient and their little wings beat fervently whenever you enter my thoughts. I had released any hope of finding them alive, but there they were as if no time had past since they first flew into my heart...

the uselessness of a rogue balloon...

It's like a rogue balloon gushing out air, or the thirsty deep cracks that form in dry desert sand, the uselessness of a Ferris wheel that quietly and motionlessly sits in the shadows surrounded by bright twinkling lights and scaling noises echoing the purpose and vitality of a carnival.   That is what a wall feels like.  The wall that you hit when you've been running a hundred miles an hour too preoccupied to realize it's coming when suddenly you realize that what you love to do, you don't love to do anymore.  That stark realization has the power to send chills of panic through an exhausted body.

  Writers have writer's block, artists go through dry spells, and musicians hit a wall, and then proceed to slide down it for a few days, weeks, months or years.   But from the other side of that realization I can see that sometimes that wall can be a sign of a healthy passion.  You don't know what you've got till it is gone, the mystery and magic of art tends to loose some of it's je ne sais quoi right when you need it the most.   At moments like that I feel it is important to step back and find fresh perspective and focus, perhaps from the base of that brick wall you just face planted. When I say that I am really compounding what I think I should know inherently.  But I guess what I am projecting out "there" is that everyone, or so I am told has moments of second guessing their calling life.   That second guessing doesn't make your passion any less real or relevant, it is simply a moment of needing a new vantage point. 

Europe- revised

It has been a long time since I've added anything to what seems to be my online diary.   Since my last thoughtful post, I have toured through Hungary, Serbia, Montenegro, I've explore Vienna and Berlin, and blitzed London only to conclude my adventure by being serenaded by the sights and sounds of Paris.  This was a dream come true, to not only travel to Europe and have my passport stamped at the gate of each new country, but also to look at this historical continent through the lens of a really decent camera.  The trip highlighted areas of strength in my character, and areas of weakness, I've fine tuned the art of packing a backpack and learned the importance of leaving things behind in order to save my behind.   The things I was able to see as we enjoyed our sample platter of European decadence ranged from an inside look at life in a small rural village outside of Novi Sad in Serbia, to fine dining on the Champs Elysee where Chanel was the suggested dress code and luxury seemed to be a currency. 

I had the opportunity to behold manuscripts of my favorite composers; seeing the squiggles of their pens and enjoying the caresses of their penmanship over lines on an aged piece of parchment was surreal.  With my own two eyes I finally saw Big Ben in all his glory on a windy day in London as double-decker buses pushed past me and hoards of tourist joyfully posed for pictures.  I felt as though London and I connected instantly, the parks and streets that exuded charm spoke to my  British heritage and brought out the Londoner in me. 

Our final stop on our epic journey was Paris.   The City charmed me in a way I can hardly put into words.    Glamorous and yet reserved, it is picturesque everywhere and begs to be photographed, drawn or painted.   The city is a live with history that lingers on every corner and allows the tourist to feel as thought they've stepped through time, or at the very least through a portal into the Parisian world viewedthrough rose colored glasses.

With so much to see and so little time to see it, Paris needs to be explored again, well, that being said so does London, Berlin and Vienna.  These cities have pulled out for me new colors and shades in life.  I now see life a little bit different having now explore such historical and important landmarks.  I ache to go back, and to spend more time in each important city.  I have a sneaking suspicion that I only scratched the surface of what is to be enjoyed in each metropolis. 

europe

I had the adventure of a life time.   I covered more ground in a month than I could have ever hoped.

I pondered as we sought out ancient churches and preserved palaces the idea of nostalgia.  We are all nostalgic in some way shape or form.  We hold onto the past by revisiting it in its various forms.  It seems as thought we have the ability to stall time for even a split second when revisit moments in history.    In Europe where everything is old and  recalls a very divers history full of moments vital to the memory of the global community and moments that were on the brink of forever being forgotten, but somehow saved and put behind glass. The movie Midnight in Paris also reflects on this idea of  revisiting a time more appealing than the one we find ourselves in now.   Maybe because this historical moments, tokens and sites are tangible and can be seen, and beheld, in a round about way, it is the only way to hold onto time.   Hmm.. europe.  You've opened pandora's box, and given me the travel bug.