What holds you back?

Good morning,

Imagine yourself in each picture. Feel the clean, electric air at yellowstone, the smooth, warm water in Costa Rica.

Can you see yourself in the back of a jeep watching lions, gazelle, elephants in an African Safari?

Could you lay on the white, sandy beaches of some far off island with nothing save the rolling of clear blue waves and the sun on your face?

And wouldn't you love to spend an evening in Italy, soaking in the lights, the cuisine, the intoxicating night life....

So what's holding you back?

Simple Beautiful

 I read an old blog post on A Cup of Joe today about life's simple pleasures. Got me thinking. These are what make life beautiful, and here are some of mine.

-Birds chirping in the morning

-cold lemonade in a hot bathtub

-laying in the sun with a warm breeze

-rainfall in the sun-the smell of rain on cement

-licking the spoon from the brownie batter

-Trader Joe's caramel chocolate ice cream (while we're on the topic of food...)

-Falling asleep to rain

-Eating right out of the garden

-Driving with the window down

-Afternoon naps

-Painting

-Watching movies by myself 

-Hammocks

-Holding hands

What about you?

Great Words From Greater Men

I've been writing a lengthy essay on the importance and value of art in our lives. It's something I believe strongly in, and wish was a greater part of mine. I find it funny how pity is normally the response when someone decides to become an art major. To me, it's the most beautiful thing. As for these quotes, they made me feel warm and fuzzy.



"It is neither wealth nor splendor, but tranquility and occupation, which give happiness"
-Thomas Jefferson


"Hide not your talents. They for use were made. What's a sundial in the shade?
-Benjamin Franklin

"And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything."

-William Shakespeare

"Old friends pass away, new friends appear. It is just like the days. An old day passes, a new day arrives. The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend - or a meaningful day."

-Dalai Lama

Summer Thoughts

It is very much like summer today. The air is light and warm, the grass is hot. There are three beehives in my yard, and today they seem very threatening. I went out and laid in the sun for awhile, just enjoying the moment. It was the perfect combination of opposites; a cool breeze and thorough sunlight. It felt like everyone around me paid me a favor, keeping quiet until i was finished. When i got up, dazed, warm, and happy, I looked around there were bees hovering around the clovers at my feet. Beneath them, tiny beetles darted among the roots. And beneath that, I knew there were worms (and possibly a few gophers). Every thing knows its place. Except us, at least. And why is that? Well, we are blessed and cursed with free thought, free will. We call ourselves advanced, more capable that any other animal, and we are right. But looking at these little animals who knew exactly what they needed to do and were perfectly capable of achieving it, I suddenly felt very envious. The bee doesn't decide to spend the day laying on a leaf or under a flower and tell himself that he will just work extra hard tomorrow to make up for today. He fills his place. And he does it perfectly. On the other hand, neither does he worry about the future. The sun will rise tomorrow, bringing more flowers, new life, new opportunities. What else does he need? All of us spend our lives worrying about the next day. The next month. A year. All of us could learn from bees. As for now, I think I'll enjoy the sun some more. Then again...It would be smart to work on that essay due in a few days. See what I mean?

Night Shift

I've been working the night shift lately, coming home at around eleven o'clock or so. But before I leave, after cleaning, mopping, scrubbing sticky yogurt-covered gummy bears off the tile floors, and snagging a little yogurt to take home for myself (it usually lasts the ride home, at least), and  I stand outside the store, and stare in. The machines are on standby for the night, a choir of low mechanical humming accompanied by a line of glowing LED lights. Like little red eyes staring back at me. There is always a light on in the back, making the place look as if haunted by some invisible attendant. The radio, which I can hear from outside, plays old, sappy music on repeat heard only by the machines and me as i stand listening. In this brief, eerie moment, i feel completely alone. The place looks like it's hiding a secret from me. Like it's waiting for me to leave. I turn and get in the car, as the little red eyes watch me drive away.

A sonnet, by me.

Inspired by a quick-write in English. That somehow ended up taking me hours. and hours.

Oh, hopeful figure at the windowsill,

Oh, happy child, for whom do you seek?

When time, love's master has stolen it's thrill

Will you, love's victim, so strong become weak?

When empty vases once filled with bright flowers,

And hearts, once merry, sink back in defeat,

Will you spill your tears in lonely showers?

Or fade to the background, a sad retreat

Perhaps, my darling, our two paths will cross

We could be happy, our sorrows could pass

You with your sorrow and me with my loss

We could be happy--oh love that will last!

         Oh, hopeful figure, you've found your own love

          I wish that I too, could watch from above

Pioneer Woman's Photo Assignment

One of my favorite bloggers, Pioneer Woman, hosts routine photo competitions with fun prizes. Her latest assignment is black and white photography, and I just finished uploading my entry. Look out flickr;]