Things I think are just great - Post #2

Fall has arrived. The air smells like fall, leaves crunch and blow, and every morning I sprint from my warm bed through my freezing apartment to the stove to make tea.

Things you should take advantage of:

A morning or dusk on the lakefront. The air and wind is crisp, but not too cold. The sunsets are gentle and layered, and the water is a deep sea green. Today on my bike ride home, a man was painting the horizon, a few men were snapping photos, and other young people had simply put down their bikes to sit for a while.

Honey crisp apples from a farmers' market. I got mine this past Tuesday at Dearborn/Adams. They're the best apples I've ever had -- and I know apples. Check out the Green City Market on Wednesdays and Saturdays. I'm sure they're there as well.

An out-of-city trip. Tomorrow a friend and I are taking our bikes on the Metra post-work and traveling out of the city to ride.

Learning about Eritrea. This might not improve your joy and faith in humanity's goodness, but eat a honey crisp apple while reading and it should balance you a bit. Few people know about Eritrea, yet it is one of the world's leaders in human rights violations. The government forces young men and women into the military, where they are tortured, mistreated and the women often raped. Check out Human Rights Watch or the BBC for articles on Eritrea and the surrounding countries in the Horn of Africa.

Dictionary.com's Word-a-Day. It makes speaking more adventurous. Recent favorite words: enervate. slugabed. repine.

Things I think are just great - Post #1

NPR has a Song a Day feature. I live by it and have been introduced to great music in the past few weeks!

My current favorites:

** Bon Iver: For Emma, Forever Ago
Released November 2007. Pure acoustic melodies. Simple almost haunting lyrics that are a play on words. His lyrics don't explicitly define his thoughts or moods, but in that sense, they strike me as lovely. Definitely a mood album. A few friends have seconded my statement that the album is addicting. I can't turn it off.

** The Portland Cello Project
Who doesn't love cellos?? Everything from rock/pop songs with other artists to classic cello pieces to experimental melodies. They're next on my to-buy list.

** Ra Ra Riot: The Rhumb Line
I heard them on NPR and fell for the catchy energetic full sound of this six person Syracuse band. Then I saw them live at Subterranean earlier this month. The Rhumb Line was just released in the middle of August 2008 and they're on their first tour. They have a cellist and violinist. Super great.

Other great people to check out: Matt Nathanson, Jose Gonzalez, Calexico

Landlines

So I've come to the conclusion that living simply has to come in incremental changes (props to Jeff for the encouragement) and then a few risky decisions. I'm at the point of incremental changes... and needing a new change. I'm open to ideas! For now, I've only bought second hand clothes for the past five months, I take books from the library instead of buying, I shop at farmers' markets and my locally owned grocery store, and I've become my grandma by reusing Ziploc bags. What's next? Being more mindful of how much shampoo, paper towels, hair products I use? Act like they're the last ones I have? Compost in my 3 room apt? I think not...

If I were to take risks, this is how I'd simplify my life:

I'd get a landline.

Seriously, I think about landlines a lot. What happened to them? They have such charm, such intimacy.

This week I'm without a cell phone. The past two days have been glorious. If I say I'm meeting a friend somewhere, we meet. Or we don't. But there's none of this:

4:30 Cell phone conversation: "Let's meet at 5:00 at the cafe." "Great, see you there."

5:02 Cell phone rings: "I'm on my way." "Great, see you soon."

5:05 Cell phone rings: "I stopped to get some groceries. Want any oranges? They're on sale." "No, I'll just see you when you arrive."

I mean, really. That's so distracting. Just show up late! Why the three conversations?

How do you feel about landlines?

I'M FOR 'EM!

Espresso black.

Saturday, August 30. Favorite cafe at home. Salsa dancing in the back room. Quiet coffee-scent in the front.

Existing as a creative being isn't just about producing vibrant paintings, melodic acoustic songs, or going to poetry readings. Embracing one's creativity is also about finding one's deepest joys in daily moments, about becoming alive and seeing life as more than a schedule and a box.

This week I’ve felt so alive. The only way I can animate such a feeling is this image: when my siblings and I were little, we’d gather in my twin sisters’ bedroom just before 7am on Christmas morning, and then jump and pound on the creaking, poorly laid floorboards that doubled as the ceiling of my parents’ room, “Good morning!! Wake up!” Joy so physical that it borders overwhelming annoyance. That was me this week.

Last Friday I sliced open my hand while climbing a tree in Grant Park. Of course (with my ridiculous desire to always be “hardcore”), I loved it. Monday night I became irreparably grumpy when my bike-greased hands failed to successfully secure the back wheel. Tuesday I bought raspberries and blueberries at the farmers’ market on Adams and Dearborn. Back in the office Tuesday afternoon, I realized my hands were still grimy with bike-grease (in some crevices that defied Monday night’s scrubbing), now covered in bright fuchsia raspberry juice, and scabbing quite gracefully from the tree incident. In that moment, I realized I had embraced summer fully.

Wednesday night I went to BajoFondo Tango Orchestra in Millennium Park. Exhilarating. What performers. I thought I would burst of joy and energy. I went with other life-filled friends, and we danced and grinned like little kids, and screamed and loved it. And dancing tango outside to a live orchestra… nothing beats it. I sucked up my dancing insecurity and approached two of the best tango dancing Chicago men and (defying all tango etiquette) asked them to dance! And I think I did okay… perhaps they’ll give me the ever so slight eye-point-to-dancefloor invite next time we’re in the same room…

Thursday night I made pesto and then laid on a pier with a friend, fell in love with the light-pollutioned pink sky, and embraced the gentle drizzle of rain that skimmed my cheeks. Friday I went to immigration court, met a lovely woman from Eritrea, met genuine-hearted attorney who grew up in a small town outside where I grew up, and had lunch with them. That evening a dear friend and I drove to my home, windows down, listening to mixed CDs from 1994, and took turns holding the steering wheel so we could look out the sunroof at the magenta and Crayola mountain purple sunset, and then the starry, espresso black sky.

Today I woke early, ate locally made jam and toast, yoga in the sun, did everything local possible, made sure the juice from farmers’ market peaches ran down my chin, and picnic-d at a vineyard as the sun disappeared behind a lake and forests. And I write as I drink a Cuban coffee from the perfect espresso cup, saucer and spoon.

Life is so beautiful and colorful and full. I am overwhelmed.

Updates from the Train

Updates on life as of August 17, 2008. Amtrak 5:15 train to Chicago. Drinking ice cold water. Watching the sunset over corn fields (that I hope aren’t producing ethanol) and loving that the air is gold and fuzzy. Like summertime peaches.

This summer has flown past. Today I freaked out because someone’s “out of office” said they wouldn’t be back until August 17. In my mind, I thought it was August 4'ish, and I needed an answer from the person sooner than 2 weeks! When I arrived back to reality and noted that August 17 was today, I felt slightly if not totally ridiculous, and was amazed by the rush of the past months.

I finished Dance of the Dissident Daughter (was deeply challenged by it), Rainer Maria Rilke’s words are etched into my soul, found Elizabeth Bishop, was enchanted by Marquez, and my eyes continue to be opened through Takeover and Words from an Argentine Dirty Warrior.

Summer highlights: daily commuting via bike, moments of live outdoor music, fresh locally grown foods, moving in (second time) to a new apartment and sleeping next to open windows and breezes, late night walks, early morning lakefront runs, homemade spring rolls, lunch at Chase fountain, my summer intern posse (I had three of my own interns!).

So I’m on my way ‘home’ from ‘home.’ I don’t know if I can live in the city forever. Being barefoot in grass while hearing crickets, toads, creeks’ rumblings and while trying to take in glistening spots of stars… it gets me at the core. And – really – is there anything better than locally grown peaches converted to cheap peach jam? Or strawberries and then strawberry butter? I must admit. I splurged and am carrying an ENORMOUS and heavy watermelon and – count them – FOUR jars of jam. Ridiculous…ly amazing! Call me – I’ll invite you over for tea and jammed toast. and watermelon.

I was also reminded that along with my dreams of being a dancer, asylum attorney, human rights worker abroad, history profesora, author, restaurant owner, doula, and/or yoga instructor, I also want to be a…

FARMER.

Really, I do. A farmer. Yep. Bring it. Watch out world – my mid-life career change might land me in a field with tomatoes and watermelons as big as the one I’ll attempt to lug from the train through the station up a flight of stairs to the car.

So those are my current thoughts on life. As much as I’ve been completely awful at staying in touch, I’ve also been awful at blogging… perdoname por fa. Un beso. Chauuu.

Reading List - July 2008

I presently have five books rotating in a stack by my night stand/enduring binding-wearing transit in my backpack. (All my books get that way. I try to keep them looking nice and crisp, but to no avail.) Here’s the list:

Cien Anos de Soledad by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. A classic magic realism novel that delights me in its exaggerated details and reality. The characters seem to nag at my own human insecurities, and make me chuckle with their ridiculous escapades.

Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd. A personally challenging book about waking up to life’s spirituality. A must-read for any woman (or man, if you’re daring enough to jump into it!) who yearns to push back the walls of the boxes into which her life is packed. Kidd’s diction and style are fresh and strong.

Takeover by Charlie Savage. A political book about the expanding executive power of the United States’ Presidency. Corroborated by this article at democracynow. Rich in example and theory, I am learning about the interplay between the branches of government, and finally starting to grasp the imperial nature of the presidency.

Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen. A refreshing, straightforward look at spirituality and living in our deepest desires.

Elegies in Blue: Poems by Benjamin Alire Saenz. Saenz believes poetry should play a role in public discourse, and uses his words to tell stories of his childhood on the U.S./Mexican border, as well as illustrate the lives of other individuals and groups of people. His clean and fresh words propel poignant questions. His poetry opens my mind and my eyes to the world.