This fall and winter, I am inviting two new words to guide my creative life: attention and mischief.
A few days after Christmas I’m eating veggie curry watching the sea through the window. There’s a lighthouse on a little island that appears and disappears through the clouds. Sometimes there are figures walking on the headland near the tower.
I’m here as a kind of halfway house—after spending Christmas with my family in the suburbs and before going back to my tiny studio in the city centre.
All of the things are blooming. Have you noticed? June is here. The Cecil Brunner rosebush is magnificent this year--an explosion of flowers so heavy that its top has fallen away from the white wall of the little city cottage where Lucia is made, and is spilling toward the alleyway. There is a lesson here for me, in expectation and fruition...
Sunday, April 9, 2017 - Daily Notes, From the Editor (550 words). Whoa, April is intense. Burgeoning. This thing we call Spring is aptly named. To the untrained eye, new growth appears suddenly, but if you have been paying attention you know: this all started long ago.
Happy New Year! Oh, the plans I had for ending 2016 with a neat bow, a perfect email, and an announcement of a new offering I've been working on for early 2017. Out the window they flew sometime in the last week while I struggled to balance heart work with paid work, dreams with reality. Instead, I woke this morning unfinished. Like I always do...
A few days after Christmas I’m eating veggie curry watching the sea through the window. There’s a lighthouse on a little island that appears and disappears through the clouds. Sometimes there are figures walking on the headland near the tower.
I’m here as a kind of halfway house—after spending Christmas with my family in the suburbs and before going back to my tiny studio in the city centre.
Happy New Year! Oh, the plans I had for ending 2016 with a neat bow, a perfect email, and an announcement of a new offering I've been working on for early 2017. Out the window they flew sometime in the last week while I struggled to balance heart work with paid work, dreams with reality. Instead, I woke this morning unfinished. Like I always do...
December 31, 2015
Chest beating madly with 2015 memories: I started a new magazine. Succeeded and stumbled. Hit pause on big love. Let go. Heart broke and so it grew. Honored my own boundaries. Told fear to suck it. Took myself to salsa lessons.
Started learning to follow, listen, and try to move in sync with someone else, all while laughing. This afternoon I was practicing in my living room (i.e. gathering courage) because later tonight I'm taking myself out. Yep. Solo. Just for a couple of hours. I'll show up and say yes. To anyone who asks.
My two-year-old niece, Faye, says "yes" a lot. It is the sweetest sound. She softly enunciates the s. She smiles. Already she senses the magic in this word.
I am so grateful you have been part of my world this year and so happy to be able to see glimpses of your world through Instagram, Facebook, your wonderful blogs and websites. Thank you for sharing with me. May 2016 bring us all the answers we seek. May they sound a lot like yes.
Happy New Year!
xo,
laura
