make: a statement #2

A very wise little sister sent me the above card on the occasion of my recent birthday. She rightly noted that I always seem worried about my birthdays. I do worry. And I don't like my birthday. I like my friends' and family birthdays. I like frosting and champagne. I just worry about birthdays. More so than New Year's. I enjoy the time for reflection and resolution setting that comes with January 1. But birthdays provoke the same sort of reflection and goal setting, but with the added reminder that you are now older. And then there are the comparisons that happen when you look at other people your age. And all that they've accomplished. And that creates a downward spiral that can lead to drinks stronger than champagne. This year, though, despite my dread leading up to it, I felt more at peace with my birthday. I didn't do much reflection and no goal setting -- I'll leave that for January 1 -- but I let the day pass peacefully. I enjoyed time with family and friends. I enjoyed something sparkly and several cakes. It was nice. And I'm going to carry the above message with me for the rest of the year.

Compendium card.

and do: work out (yoga)

Don't hate me. I'm a morning person. Not like a jolly, bouncing off-the-wall with energy at 6:00 am morning person. Like a productive morning person. And it starts with working out in the morning. When I was a swimmer in my teens it was a herculean task to get me out of bed to a 4:45 am swim practice. But in my 20s? Apparently I will get myself out of bed at 4:30 am to go for a run. But my schedule has recently changed. I'm still waking up in the morning to run, but I am no longer able to attend the a.m. yoga practice that I loved. So, for the past few weeks, I've been testing out evening yoga classes. I was worried. I thought I would be stiff and inflexible after a work day. Or that I'd be too full because I can't give up my afternoon snack habit. Turns out, I love evening yoga. I'm more flexible in the evening. And it's great because the Baptiste vinyasa style I practice wipes me out and my mind is more at peace so I'm not tossing and turning trying to fall asleep at a reasonable hour. I wish I could say I've also managed to avoid the afternoon snack attack, but unfortunately back-bending on my stomach is still a bit uncomfortable.

Image via here.

make: plans

I don't know when I stopped making plans. I'm not talking about daily, weekly or monthly plans. Those I make and keep. In general, I love having a plan. For my day. For my week. I like a schedule and having tasks to accomplish or places to go. Plans are well-suited to my need for something resembling control over my life. And yet, at some point, I stopped making plan plans. The sort of plan that materializes out of a dream. The sort of plan that you make because you have a goal and you need concrete steps to reach it. It's not that I stopped having goals either. I set goals and resolutions, but they are little and often immediate. One year, it was my goal to stay connected to art, so I started volunteering at an art museum. The sort of plans I'm lacking are the five-year, ten-year plans. It's one of the interview questions I dread. In middle school and high school having five and ten-year plans was so easy.

Ok. The first sentence is a lie. I know when I stopped making plans. I stopped making plans in college. All my childhood dreams of what I would be when I grew up had fizzled or no longer appealed to me. Instead, I was much more interested in just taking classes that I loved. With no looking towards the future. I don't regret my course of study. But I do wish that I had a plan that led towards something big. It's been on my mind lately. It's still kinda hazy. But, where I've spent most of my life being practical and tackling those daily, weekly and monthly plans, I find myself thinking that a long-distance, like to-the-moon distance, plan holds a kind of appeal. I'm working on it. I'll keep you posted.

Image via here.

pinning for friday #4

It seems a bit of wanderlust has struck me this week. Is it the end of the summer and the end of hope for a romantic, adventurous romp? I don't think there's ever an end to hope, so I'll just keep compiling my list. If you want to follow all my lists, you can find me here. Hope you all have a little adventure planned for the weekend!

Images 1, 2, 3.

and do: get dressed #4

This post was originally conceived in my mind about being about all black dressing. Yes, it was on my mind last week and there it has stuck. I have dressed in all black (exception being shoes) twice this week. But I was strolling around the web when I caught sight of this pic and it has brought up that undeniable thing on all our minds when it comes to getting dressed -- covering up for fall. Are you a hat person? In previous times, I have walked and ridden the bus to work and I'm back on that schedule, which means, come fall and winter, hats are kinda necessary. And I'm loving the idea of a wool baseball cap replacing knit beanies.

Image via HonestlyWTF.

make: stuffed eggplant

Before I traveled to Italy, I thought I didn't like Italian food. I soon learned that I didn't like Americanized Italian food. I love thin crust pizza. I love pasta dressed with nothing more than sharp cheese and black pepper. I love fried zucchini flowers and fresh mozzarella. Italian food is simple. And delicious in its simplicity. I made this stuffed eggplant recipe the other night. It had been over a year and I'd nearly forgotten about it. Thank goodness something tapped my memory. It's simple. And it's delicious. The recipe is from the cookbook/memoir A Year in the Village of Eternity by Tracey Lawson -- a book I read several years after my travels to Italy and one of the many things that has me dying to go back.

and do: go to a museum #2

Let me start by saying that Links: Australian Glass and the Pacific Northwest at the Museum of Glass is really an exceptional exhibit. Still I also have to say that one of the most whimsical and conversational pieces of art that I saw during my excursion to Tacoma was this stump (what do you even call these things that often bridge the space between the sidewalk and the crosswalk?) that was covered in the museum admission stickers. It made me laugh. It made me pause and take a picture. And it made me marvel at the fact that the first person to most likely simply casually dispose of their sticker in this way probably had no idea they were starting a collaborative piece. It's fun to think of all the art lovers and tourists who have contributed to this piece of work.

I also loved these pieces by Janice Vitkovsky.