We are connected to all our relations
Along the way I have lost the wide eyes, the feeling so much is new, so much to explore.
Along the way I am finding perspective gets longer and wider and still so much to learn, so much to explore.
I am gifted with strong senses awareness. I notice things. I understand and learn much without words, especially from the natural world. Sounds, feelings, light, details, smells I am challenged by the complexity of a chaotic world overpopulated with humanity.
Otis Reading, On the Dock of the Bay, Pearl Fishers duet, Tina Turner, Charles Ives, The Unanswered Question, Rita Coolidge
In the 50's I loved sitting the dock alone at the lake in early morning or under the stars, canoeing as the morning mists lift revealing the willows and hemlocks along the waters edge. In the 70's I loved the walk through Radcliffe Yard after a rain, the reflection of the Congregational church weather vane in a particular puddle, being consumed with passion, discovering philosophy. In the 80's I remember hiking and camping with my family, the feeling of calm after three or four days away. In the 90's picking a thousand apples every fall and cooking up a storm. After 2000 I remember quiet times in my classroom creating learning environments, the campground, the airport, the blocks centre, dancing on the carpet, clay, sand, water. I remember the sweat lodge... More recently I remember the feeling of rootlessness, dislocation and discovery after moving to Toronto. I am forming memories of amazing ice formations by the lake shore the colours and smells of fall.
Dreams and Aspirations
a wonderful space, simple, uncluttered, a high ceiling, an old wood floor a small rug, a ficus tree. a studio couch to sleep on, a beautiful view over a descending landscape, sometimes urban sometimes rural.
the book case with so many old favourites, the low ceiling the covered duct area even lower, a radiator painted white, raised on bricks with the valve exposed, so old fashioned, the African basket of tightly wound coloured string on the golden cherry coffee table my uncle made 70 years ago.
the surface of a lake, sometimes absolutely flat, sometimes quite rippled by breezes and air currents concealing what lies below, even more rolling waves as the weather changes.
sun through my eyelids and warmth, super fresh veggies, an unusual and very good wine, the smell of the sea, lying on the earth with my eyes closed, a good stiff breeze, the prairies in July, gold and green and sky-blue, the smell of fall on the prairie, storm surge waves breaking along the North shore, Massachusetts
What makes home is a space that feels right, and a predictable rhythm of seasonal change. Or home can be where the family is, where people I care about are.
Silver lake in the Poconos
SENSE OF AGENCY.