Ten.One Hundred & Ninety-One
1. The light is slow to come today.
2. Blueberry pancakes that only three of us will eat. But three is enough.
3. I can barely put a blueberry into my mouth. The tightness of my triceps is painful but kind of in a good way.
4. Also the muscles around my rib cage.
5. Fast Company.
6. The milky gray sky and the slowness of this morning.
7. I see no fewer than 8 accidents on my way to the studio.
8. This space. One day, also this, for myself.
9. But this is what he claimed for himself. He claimed it and then it came to be.
10. The Poet.
Ten.One Hundred & Ninety
1. Dark. Somehow darker than usual.
2. This is the last Saturday before we return to school. Back to the normal routine. These two weeks have gone by fast and yet so slow. There's a part of me that will miss the looseness of these days.
3. Scones. Same Jamie Oliver recipe except without the blueberries and a cinnamon glaze instead of lemon. I shred frozen butter for these and the texture is divine.
4. Hot coffee plus fire plus words.
5. I find myself wanting to write about the things I said I no longer wanted to write about and I think about what that means for my own life as a writer. I writing is a study of my own interior, then to what and to whom and I really saying "no?"
6. I am here but nervous. But excited. Trying something new.
7. This requires letting go which is something I'm not that great at. It also requires a certain level of comfort with and about one's body; perhaps this is something that will develop over time. But the awkwardness of doing a new thing is a welcomed feeling today. I am so tired.
8. Two Rieslings: one from Alsace and one from Mosel.
9. The box is filled with dried flowers, the colors of which make me want to cry. I am so lucky to know her.
10. I know I'm going to be sore tomorrow.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Nine
1. Emerald green in the sky.
2. Hot water with lemon. Thinking about what to serve for next week's soup night.
3. There's that little bubble of doubt that begins to surface when getting closer to your dream mean giving up something that you already have and love.
4. I stick my feet right up against the fireplace while I read. There is no getting away from the cold.
5. Laundry and The Others.
6. Lobster bisque, apple and manchego salad, glass of Shaya 2016 Verdejo from Rueda. I don't think I've had much Verdejo. I need to add it to my list of summer whites.
7. I think back to earlier this morning when I was fixing her ponytail. How I asked her to turn her body, por favor. "What does that mean?" Please, in Spanish. I guess I should say, s'il vous plait. We need to get back to studying our French. "I know."
8. We lay in bed, three of us, snuggled up beneath the covers. He and I close our eyes while the little one watches Jurassic Park for maybe the 100th or 200th time. It's a sweet and quiet moment.
9. Vouvray with honey and lemon chicken. Also making sure I drink more of this next summer.
10. I keep thinking about 33 and what I want it to look like. How I'm ready to grow up a little bit even though I don't exactly know what that means.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Eight
1. I don't know how so many people miss the sunrise. It's the most forgiving time of day.
2. The scent of the oranges as I curl away the peel.
3. This sweater and its vibes. He tells me I look like I belong on a mountain somewhere and I say, "yeah. Like one of those mountains in California that Adam is always on."
4. But there's this call back to my writing roots. We talked yesterday of accountability. What is it that wants to be written?
5. There is so much.
6. I twist my neck to catch a glimpse of the old house. I know that it's their Subaru parked in front. The base of the porch column is still falling apart, as are the steps to the deck. I still miss it.
7. We talk in her foyer for 45 minutes. I still miss her too.
8. I remember now why I never come to Barnes & Noble to shop but it's the closest book store to me and, honestly, there's no romance in shopping on Amazon. I use leftover Christmas money to buy The Cooking Gene and three magazines: Darling, Fast Company, and Click.
9. Chicken tacos, guacamole, and a game of War.
10. I have letters to write.
Inspiration - Dusty Rose
Sometimes a color feels like a long lost friend. Or like a cloud you'd love to rest in. That's the way I'm feeling about this particular shade of pink. It feels fresh and new, elegant and feminine. Soft. And maybe those are all the things I wish to feel for myself right now. I sense the shift and this next evolution of self is seeking a sophisticated simplicity, cultivated ease, a curated aesthetic grounded in the natural beauty of things. - A
“Imagination is the beginning of creation. You imagine what you desire, you will what you imagine and at last you create what you will.”
*all images sourced via pinterest
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Seven
1. Thin mornings.
2. Coffee and the hunt for deer.
3. No one is happy with my make-your-own-breakfast attitude.
4. When do they go back to school?
5. Today I really did only put three things on my list: edit photos, talk with Robin, do the laundry. I'm craving coffee and books in bed while the sun comes in.
6. There are so many things I feel uncertain about. I'm constantly praying for discernment. To trust the feelings in my body. I'm still trying to break the habit of over-intellectualizing.
7. Need to read some good books.
8. Pot roast and mashed potatoes. Merlot.
9. I stuff the laundry back into the baskets and drag them off the bed so I can craw beneath the covers. Maybe tomorrow it will get folded.
10. I still have a crush on Fox Mulder.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Six
1. The color in between the yellow and the green is the color of the skin of a good lime.
2. Their outdoor lights are still on, turning the white snow a very pale shade of blue.
3. Leftover bagels for breakfast. Because, yes, today is also about Ease. Maybe every day is about Ease. I still love the tagline for Apiece Apart: Cultivated Ease. Yes. I want Cultivated Ease.
4. It's so cold that my face hurts. No one wants to shop for groceries in -13 degrees. But it is quiet. And the thing about temperatures this cold is that it often makes for a very bright and clear day. Still so blessed by the sun.
5. Three deer run through the back yard. They are still here.
6. Website finally done. And I am not sure that it will make much of a difference but at least, for now, it does feel more like me.
7. They moved from Washington state to here. I wonder how they're holding up in this cold.
8. In one month I'll be in Santa Cruz. That's what I keep telling myself as I watch the temperature hover around 3 degrees.
9. Sometimes it's just more motivating when you think someone doesn't believe in you.
10. I sit with the towel wrapped around my head, trying to let the oils sink in. What will be different about tomorrow?
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Five
1. The first light of day. Negative 11 degrees.
2. I start the coffee and then make a bagel run. Because sometimes it's just easier on a morning like this to not have to think about anything.
3. I am still the only one awake.
4. Each one is still is their clothes from the night before.
5. I take my coffee back up to bed, journal and pen in hand. Twilight Zone marathon before falling asleep.
6. My little world here is so quiet.
7. I feel like I accomplished nothing. But maybe that was what I needed—to do nothing. What was there to accomplish any way?
8. French.
9. But the year is here and there is so much to be excited about. I don't always love the energy and the expectation we place upon the start of a new year but there is still some feeling of expansive possibility that is there.
10. In the end, what am I going to be committed to?
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Four
1. My nights have been late but my morning have still been early.
2. Everyone is still sleeping and the sun is up and I wish it was like this every day. Because these are my best hours.
3. I'm deep in this work and it might not make any kind of difference. Or maybe it will. I just need something new.
4. Is it really the last day of the last month of the year?
5. And even though my mind is racing I am still sunk into the slowness of this day.
6. I bring my computer back up to the dining room because the basement is just too cold. But this month I'm going to figure out how to make it better for myself.
7. Bowl of Doritos.
8. 2018 might be the year we double the vegetable intake.
9. I watch the sunset from the side mirror. Jewel tones layered in the sky behind me. There's a metaphor here as I look back while I try to move forward.
10. It's so good to be here where everything and almost everyone is so familiar. And yet at the same time noticing how apart from it all I now am and will continue to be. Which is not bad but it's real and right now it's really hitting me that this is no longer mine.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Three
1. Even in the dark I can feel the fullness of the day.
2. Coffee. Getting it started early. The hissing sound it makes because I didn't put the carafe in just right.
3. The grocery store is quiet though I guess it is still early for a Saturday morning shopping trip.
4. I finish washing some of the walls, sweep the floor, make the sauce, prepare the dough before heading out for the afternoon.
5. It takes me a few minutes to figure out how to get inside the door, but I finally do and make my way up to the third floor.
6. Being in this space makes me warm with dreams. I can see the city skyline from the window. The wood floors are old and beat up, so full of story. Backdrops and lights and stands and props and computers. Space.
7. I am remembering how in our conversation she asked me what was my next really big dream. California is up there, for sure. But that one already feels like it's happening. So I say, "Space. A physical space that is my work space and my studio space but also a community space that I can share with other women who are working on their own dream."
8. Two photo shoots and two interviews for Black Food and Beverage. This is one of the most fulfilling side projects I've done in a long time. To be able to sit with these black men and women and hear about their hustle and their grind and their vision. Yes, more of this please.
9. All of them are so big. The twins. Of course, as a mother, I think about how many of their sweatpants I could fit into a washing machine. My guess is only 4. But this family. He's right, I do miss them. I had forgotten how much time we'd spent with them during that short time in Kansas City.
10. Tomorrow is the last day.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-Two
1. He wants blueberry scones with a lemon glaze.
2. Stripes of lavender and pink in the winter sky. Snow glittering like diamonds.
3. Coffee. The real kind. And in a tiny mug that makes me feel like I'm drinking more than I actually am.
4. How has it already been 10 years? He is up to my nose. I can wear his t-shirts.
5. We drop the boys off at the movies to see Star Wars and then go get our nails done. Gold sparkles on her fingers, black sparkles on her toes. I choose a midnight blue that looks almost black. "You always pick such dark colors," she says.
6. The 10-year old picks Portillo's for lunch. I eat and then clean the bathrooms. Nothing that I wanted to have done by today is actually done. I sigh about it.
7. Steak for dinner. I get a little teary looking at him sitting there eating his ice cream. I take another sip of wine.
8. We unload into the house but I decide to head back out and shovel the driveway. It's the light stuff and it moves easily. 8:30 and so quiet.
9. I am thinking of tomorrow, the way the day has filled itself up with people and places and things and feelings. I think of the way it feels to tell someone about a thing that doesn't make sense on the outside but that you feel deeply on the inside. The split-second feeling of shame and fear of being misunderstood.
10. It's just that sometimes I want to get it too right.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty-One
1. Cold. But not as cold as yesterday.
2. Fire plus coffee plus morning pages. The sky is an ash gray. No color.
3. So cold but I must get the blueberries and the sour cream and the parsley. Oh, and the video game. Because he's turning 10.
4. I've been a mother and a wife for 10 years. It is a decade. It is a significant stretch of time and yet it is also just a microscopic dot on an infinite timeline.
5. How do we determine what is significant.
6. Laundry never goes away.
7. I walk in the snow to go get him. The snow feels like it's falling in thin sheets. Everything has a fresh coat of white on it and the streets are quiet. I'm glad I am walking because the way the cold air is coming into my lungs makes me feel alive again.
8. Beef stroganoff. I am feeling uninspired in the kitchen lately. This is an old, but good, standby. And it sticks to the bones.
9. I am not a winter person. I turn off the fireplace and stand there, my nose pressed against the mantle, to feel the heat continue to radiate upward onto my belly and face.
10. Sometimes it feels easier to just roll over.
Ten.One Hundred & Eighty
1. This morning, up early for fireside writing.
2. Feeling the cold deep in my bones. This is the kind of weather that makes you hurt.
3. There's a wide rectangle of light in the hall and I stand in it to warm my belly.
4. I must remember not to get caught up in the inconsequential. I am good at finding things that keep me busy and yet unmoved.
5. Bunny tracks in the snow behind the house.
6. I also sometimes really don't know what I am doing. And maybe that's okay. Maybe it's a good thing.
7. Jumper cables.
8. The restaurant, Entente, is unassuming, tucked in between two other shops. Inside are small tables set with napkins and glassware that shine from the light of the falling afternoon sun.
9. Christopher talks about his journey from opera singer to sommelier. The more excited he gets the more his hands move. More than photographing, I love the act of listening to people tell their stories. I love to see how animated they become when they get to sit in their own thoughts. How do you not leave the conversation inspired?
10. Time to bring out the flashcards again.
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Nine
1. I open my eyes to see the little one checking his watch and rolling out of my bed. I lay for a little longer but it's bright and I know I need to get downstairs soon. I can't remember the last time I slept in.
2. Three kids eating tin from a popcorn for breakfast while watching t.v. It's the little things, right?
3. I still cook up some bacon and clean the kitchen, hand wash all the Friendly Village china and silently thank my mother-in-law for the gift.
4. The sun is bright but the air is still so cold. -4 degrees. It feels inhumane.
5. There is no more decaf but I want some coffee and I make a pot of the regular stuff and promise myself to only drink half a mug. I think, despite my refills, I still manage to have less than a mug. I don't regret it.
6. We build the ski lodge together on the bed while watching Mind of a Chef. I could build Lego sets all day. "Nothing is impossible," she says.
7. Tonight is leftovers which means no cooking—thank goodness—which also means a little more time to lay in the bed and watch some Charlie Brown before everything needs to be reheated.
8. The light from the setting sun makes the room glow orange and then in one breath it is dark again.
9. 2013 Odette Cabernet Sauvignon, a gift from a friend.
10. I stay up way too late watching The Godfather II with him, mostly because I like to read subtitles.
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Eight
1. I am still up before the first light even though last night I tried to tire myself out by shoveling and salting the driveway.
2. The littlest one comes in 6:15.
3. The middle one comes in at 7. I ask her if I can just brush my teeth first.
4. One by one. Flying paper. Ripped cardboard. Fire. Mimosas. Christmas.
5. The tiny basketballs keep knocking over my jars of feathers.
6. The light coming through the foyer window, pale gold in color.
7. I do like tidiness. Refinement. Simplicity. The classic and studied beauty. Details matter.
8. But after today everything goes back to the way it was before. Which is not a bad thing but it is still a thing with which I know I will wrestle.
9. I’ve eaten too many gratin potatoes and I don’t regret it.
10. 2009 Cyrus from Alexander Family Vineyards.
Ten.One Hunded & Seventy-Seven
1. Christmas Eve.
2. They said it was going to snow but I didn’t believe them. And here it is and I am surprised by my joy.
3. Monkey bread for breakfast.
4. Moodboarding with a hot mug of decaf. Thinking of four words.
5. The batter for the chocolate cake is too thin. I add a little bit of flour and cross my fingers.
6. Mind of a Chef. I’m late to this series as I am with most telivision shows because I don’t watch as much t.v. the days. But here I am trying to memorize the Japanese words and imagine the flavors.
7. René’s mise en place.
8. The light of the moon. I wish I knew the names of the phases like I know the names of my children.
9. Too much wrapping still to do.
10. Prosecco and stuffing stockings.
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Six
1. Up with the alarm.
2. The way the blue lights from the neighbor's house casts shadows in the hallways. Alien light.
3. 2 cups of decaf is not enough. I feel like maybe I need my own pot.
4. She wants me to take her to target to get gifts for her brothers. her father, and me. At times I think she is nothing like me and then sometimes her heart feels so familiar.
5. No one is at Target at 8 AM. Must remember this in the future.
6. Music on. Cleaning started. Clay Aiken Christmas. I think thy said there will be snow tomorrow.
7. Craving: the mental space to read books, for the website to make itself, a slow Sunday, for the chocolate cake to turn out right, redwoods, coffee.
8. He didn't buy decaf. Maybe my New Year's resolution will be to get back on caffeine.
9. Sometimes you have to let the words fall out. And maybe there was a better way to say them. But maybe not. Because when you're telling someone a hard truth, how can you not expect a little sourness in return?
10. Fastest wrapping session ever.
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Five
1. 4:28 AM. I think this just might be the result of anxiety.
2. I go to his car and grab my early Christmas presents: a studio light kit and reflectors. Because this Black Food & Bev project has me doing something I haven’t done much of before, which is exciting but also scary. And maybe this is just another edge to step to and over.
3. He’s coughing a lot which means he needs a full day of rest and breathing treatments.
4. One of the flash heads is broken. He will need to return it. And actually I am okay with this. I remind myself that I've only ever shot in natural light, with no kinds of tools at all. I think of his advice: work with your limitations.
5. "Raimundo Panikkar...said the future will not be a new, big tower of power. Our hope in the future is the hope into well-trodden paths from house to house, these well-trodden paths from house to house. That is the image that holds a lot of promise for our future." - David Steindl-Rast
6. The restaurant is small and intimate. It feels like a neighborhood bar, like the kind of place you want to come to shake off the world and feel like yourself again.
7. Eldridge is smooth and thoughtful and kind. He's got good energy. And as I move him from bar to window to wall to table he moves with ease. His beard and the way he smiles reminds me of my brother. When Andrea begins to interview him, and he gets into his own story and the story he's creating with The Delta, I can feel my insides begin to glow. Because this is what I love. I love listening to people talk about themselves and their passion and when it's so beautifully honest, it's like magic. Everything is alive.
8. "Ultimately, everything boils down to relation." - David Steindl-Rast
9. This chili recipe is not up to par. My cornbread, however, is on point.
10. I think of the old black and white images in The Delta's bathroom and on the walls and think of history and lineage, food and memory. What is my own?
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Four
1. 4:48 AM.
2. The solstice sunrise is all kinds of electric purples and pinks and oranges seeping through cracks in the clouds.
3. The sound of coffee percolating in the Bialetti.
4. Morning pages with my feet in front of the fireplace, the yellow glow illuminating my words. I am always so much better prepared for my day when these are done.
5. I make a meal plan for the upcoming days through Christmas. I think I will make a chocolate cake with salted caramel frosting.
6. The kids have only a half day and so that means I have only 4 hours to do whatever needs to be done. Which doesn't feel like nearly enough time but whatever gets done, gets done. None of it is truly an emergency.
7. This is what I love about talking with her: we get the work stuff out of the way real fast and then the rest of the hour is about life, our projects, creating a sustainable writing practice (and what does a sustainable writing practice look like anyway?), what are our visions for ourselves as writers, and where will we take the time to be a writer.
8. I'm still trying to make all of it make sense.
9. Candied walnuts, Gorgonzola, and dried cranberries for my salad. Leftover Pinot and then a glass of Zinfandel. No one really eats the salad but me. Tonight is not one of the nights I feel like pushing veggies.
10. Tomorrow will feel like a long day. I'm mentally preparing myself for the amount of time I will have to be in the car. Trying to wash away the anxiety by thinking of all the podcasts I can listen to on the way to and from the shoot location. Trying to think about how much fun it will be once I am there. Wondering if I can make my work all the way out here without having to go all the way into the city. What would it look like to be able to work efficiently and profitably from where I am?
Ten.One Hundred & Seventy-Three
1. The crash of the recycling truck.
2. 6 AM and I hear feet. I think I know whose feet. I can see the light coming from the open door upstairs.
3. The thing about drinking the decaf is that I have to make it in the Bialetti—which I love, but it only makes 2 American-size cups of coffee.
4. Unpack, sort, take inventory.
5. It's really hard to find robes. I always wait to long to get the pajamas.
6. Every year I think about how I could do it differently. How can I do it more of my way. I always say to myself that this is the downside of partnership and children: rarely is a decision ever just your own. There is so much negotiation and compromise. It's not usually a bad thing, but it's still a thing.
7. Thinking about retreating. At home. With myself.
8. The orange glow of the setting sun pulses into my room. For 20 minutes the room feels like a shrine.
9. It's cold.
10. Amazing how a whole day can unravel in the last few hours. I stop at each one's room with words and hugs and the assurance that tomorrow is a new day.