Wednesday, October 30, 2013

ember bobbin reflector

the bones lay about like bits of thread. what is left on a spool, no small task, too little to bother with, end fragment of a much longer story. spent. short. unused after so much that may have been wasted. last remaining wisp that was spared from many weaves.

at the turn of a spindle, gazing at a tapestry full of sad eyes. perhaps it is cold and everyone is wearing furs. the hearth fire roars. yesterday's ashes are gathered in a pan.

all the misplaced moments. while he builds legos i read and reply, piece together a presentation, research a burning question. while he fits together a puzzle i search for dinner recipes, pen a shopping list, say "not now" to a craft because we have errands. while he is calling me to come upstairs to play in his bedroom i am running downstairs with an overflowing basket of laundry. while he is wanting to unwind at home i am wanted elsewhere. and while he is begging me to read the book, i sometimes say, "not that one again." 

as i watch my son's long lashes long last flutter shut for the day,  my own eyes dampen with the lost feeling of something slipped away. 

as i watch my daughter carefully step the tight rope of these years with grace and wisdom, i long to know more of her hidden feelings. 


our eyes, our feet. we seek to see what they see, we carry them and chase them and follow them. they help us to view things fresh. we step into uncharted territory. from top to bottom, we witness, we dance. we catch our self in reflection and stop short.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

the faces of love

a little overwhelmed lately but also feeling so grateful for my full cup. it is amrita. 

there have been a fair amount of firsts this past month, including first homecoming. i feel really fortunate that i got to be chauffeur on this special night (i'm guessing it may be the first and last time i get to do that!). i now have a wish to put together a book of photographs of "teens preparing for the dance." there is so much to take in - excitement mixed with apprehension. shyness and glamour. stepping out of the family home. friendships deepening. 

such bright radiance 

among other firsts, my mother hosted a first big dinner in her new home. my cousin, who i have not seen since i was in grade school,  was visiting from florida with her husband. my mother has been here only two weeks, and is so well set up. i hope she'll relax soon!

and then just the autumn unfolding. tristan at play with his pals. cold mornings of warm oatmeal. and incredible october sunsets. not firsts, perhaps, but fresh.

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

at autumn's entrance

during the exact moment of autumnal equinox our little family had a jam session!

a few days later dan and i treated ourselves to a sigur ros concert to celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary, and 20 years together. i am still under the spell of their dreamy, raucous, hypnotic music. it was a lovely evening that i wish could be repeated. i wasn't permitted to bring my slr camera into the venue (poor dan ran it all the way back to the car which was parked a good distance away), so these are a variety of not so fantastic cell phone pics (with the retro camera app).

the concert closed with the song, untitled 8, which was just mind blowing. here is a live version of it from their great documentary, heima.

feeling good afterward. . .

and would you believe after all these years of living here (well, it's only been 8), i saw lambeth field for the first time? i found the row of white pillars impressive, not that there is a shortage of white pillars in charlottesville.

while our week began with a big concert at the john paul jones arena, it closed with local music and food at the tom tom founders festival block party. charlottesville is good fun, ya'll!

this week my mother arrived to begin her new life in virginia. my brother drove her down from michigan and paid us a short visit. we ate greek afelia, celebrated the libra birthdays, and sadly bid my brother farewell, until next time!

today, after so much planning, packing, anxiety, and apprehension, my mother walked into her new home for the first time. the truck full of her furniture and belongings has not arrived yet, but she has a sweet, clean abode waiting for her, awash in dappled light and looking out onto a pastoral scene. i hope she loves it. we are happy she is here. 

below are some shots from her new digs. i think we'll be spending quite a bit of time on her nice patio.

dan christened the patio with a nap. . .

and here are some fine shots by tashi, my lovely artistic teenager

my mom's front door looks out onto a woodsy horse pasture bordering the property. tristan and i were pretty excited about the horses. though i think this one might actually be a unicorn. . . a good omen?