Inn of the Wandering Dragon

"I didn't know you had the gift of prophesying, too," Stiv remarked.
"Oh I don't, not really. It's a lunar thing, a side effect really, of
Photography. Information flutters through you, unbidden. Rarely wrong though,
when it comes, but pay it no mind if you'd rather not."
"Well, thanks," Stiv said, not sure he was thankful. To be told what would
come by a shapeshifting, alcoholic turtle Photographer had never really
been in his scheme of things.

Traveling on the bus into downtown this morning I had to re-read this passage
about three times. Later when the guys picked me up from the train station I
was still giggling, "Not feeling the cold this morning?" they asked. My reply,
"nope, not when there are middle aged alcoholic sea turtles involved!" Needless to say I have them all firmly convinced that I am "really weird". This was followed by even more giggling the rest of the way to work.

The above passage is from the book, Green Music, by Ursula Pflug and I very much
recomend it to everyone. It is at turns, funny, surreal and disturbing as the bridge between two worlds is slowly discovered. And frankly no description of mine is going to do it justice, you'll just have to read the book!

Most people who have been to my place of work think having my desk next to
the pond is fabulous. The rest all figure I must run to the bathroom every
half hour due to the sound of running water, I assure you that is not the case. There
are no sea turtles in the pond but there is one lovely turtle by the name of
Myrtle. The name was no doubt originally picked for the rhyme but an interesting
side note is that the myrtle plant was believed to be sacred to the Greek
goddess Aphrodite. It is used to create one of the national drinks of Sardinia,
and it is one of the four sacred plants in the Jewish Tabernacles Festival. (Isn't Wikki wonderful?)

My friends are used to me regaling them with stories of the pond inhabitants and their adventures. Myrtle has been an occasional escape artist when the mood strikes. Anyone willing to give up and cry defeat has not watched a little turtle attempt to scale a large and nearly vertical rock. Over and over. And over again for good measure - this little lady is the posterchild for determination! Would that we all had that much drive in our endeavors. I know I anthropomorphize my animal neighbors - I do it to my cat all the time! But still I can not help but admire her. Myrtle reminds me of my own crazy wanderings and in watching her I feel that, maybe, one day I'll be able to do those things again. Why not? Myrtle climbs near verticle rocks everyspring, so I'm sure my season will come again. ;)

Sometimes open markets and trade shows are best places to explore objects and surfaces. In crowded busy places like these there are few signs or barriers to prevent touching things. There was a lovely piece of garden statuary - a large partial horse. It was rough hewn although probably a casting of the original. One could think of it as being chipped out of the stone. The jagged surface tugged at my skin as I ran my hand over the head of the animal. It brought to mind hand carved gargoyles clothed in moss and lichen and I hope one day this piece will enjoy such finery. There is a richness in the sense of touch that communicates weight and space taken in a way that purely sight has difficulty with. Touch engages the person with the object in a deeply personal and intimate way, the item becomes more real and concrete. I wonder if over time, the roughness will become smooth as people run their hands along the head or neck - like a slow gradual polish?

Today I attended the yearly Home and Garden Show. The company I work for had a booth set up so I generally feel obligated to check it out, although in this case I usually enjoy searching the aisles for treasures. :) Aside from floor layout there was not much new to set it off from last year - or the year before. There are only so many hardwood flooring samples, roofing, and granite countertops that one can really look at before it all blurs into sameness - unfortunately I hit that threshold fairly early. My usual favorites were present and normally I would spend more time admiring the wares but the boyfriend was in a slightly sleep deprived huff so I didn't bother. At least he found a few things that might apply well for his work so he didn't feel it was a total waste.

The aisles were packed with dreamers and wishes, but also packed with people who have money to spend. Is any of this expence a real neccesity? Ok, if you are actually building a house or doing major renovations there are a few things that are needed to pull it off. But honestly most of it is simply fashionable fluff. Judging by the amount of fluff purchased and quoted I would say our econmoy is still doing well.

Not that long ago I completed a course in Interior Decorating and I was bored to tears with most of it. I am not a minimalist by any means but the fluffy world of co-ordinating seat covers with drapes seemed such a lifeless waste of time. I found the more practical side of it far more enjoyable - space planning, lighting design and drafting. And yet now I find myself wanting some of said fluff. So is it a nesting urge? Is this a drive to keep up with the Jones? Is it about showing off, just because I can? Or is it about asserting my self in my territory? I'm voting for numbers 1 and 4.

Last night as I was getting ready for bed my mind was pinwheeling through various subjects and ideas. One subject that has been circulating for a while now has been related to creativity and connectedness. In this fast paced world so much is about rushing from one point to another, get this job done that errand. In trying to keep sane and on some level still have some enjoyment while juggling the demands of the urban jungle, people retreat into their personal music selection on the ipod, retreat into books, magazines or even portable movies. People go on automatic pilot, how often have you walked away from the house only to wonder if you locked the door? We disconnect. I have disconnected.

But art is about connectivity and awareness, so how does creativity thrive when I am disconnected? And how do I reconnect?

So last night I hit upon an idea. In the process of reconnecting with the world around me lets start with the senses. But I have to be aware of what those senses are picking up. So what if I start by really noticing a sense? Not all the input I receive can be observed, there is just too much and frankly I need to keep focus on what I'm doing. So I am going to try and make note of at least one sensory input each day, and I'm going to try and make sure they are all different. This way I put more effort into paying attention, into being alert, and into reconnecting with my environment.

It's worth a try, how can I draw well if I do not look?

Ah the heavy metalic tang of toner sitting at the back of my mouth, another residue from a long work day. The smell from the copier naturally translates to the taste in the mouth - especially after a few hours of making brochures and handouts for the trade show. Of the half dozen or so times the machine stopped for a paper jam, I only ever found one sheet of paper. Go figure.