tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47213375310881320742024-03-12T19:56:59.064-07:00black bird fliesramblings from a gypsy soullauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-39696612946762081202012-09-04T01:00:00.000-07:002012-09-04T01:00:08.026-07:00absent but present<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1lGD-DcmP-4/T3kAv2ZbV2I/AAAAAAAABcI/8SRJU7VeB6k/s1600/IMG_0738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1lGD-DcmP-4/T3kAv2ZbV2I/AAAAAAAABcI/8SRJU7VeB6k/s320/IMG_0738.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><i>summer 2012</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">remember when summer used to last a really, really long time?! when june would end and you'd have worn through a pair of flip-flops and moved on to a new favorite flavor of popsicle? if you are around my age now, middle pushing late, you know that is no longer the case. i began this post in july but never finished it because time got away from me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">this summer i attended my thirtieth high school reunion. what a unique experience of time travel! some classmates i recognized immediately but not because they looked the same as they did back then. i was drawn to those people whose spirit i remembered, whether they had aged much or not. and those were the easy conversations, the ones that picked up mid-stream, effortlessly. the rest felt like an interview process: where do you live? what are you doing? how old are your children? just like now, there people you connect with and there are those you spend polite time with. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: small;">so time has its power and yet there are incidences in which it is insignificant. as i vow to post more often, i hope to work <i>with </i>time in the best of ways.</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-33262596306125970672012-09-01T14:58:00.003-07:002012-09-01T14:58:45.177-07:00fall<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCf-Ypx-TaM/UEKDG2vHHdI/AAAAAAAABxw/nyryd_zgSHc/s1600/IMG_2066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kCf-Ypx-TaM/UEKDG2vHHdI/AAAAAAAABxw/nyryd_zgSHc/s320/IMG_2066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>sunset through the trees last night, before the full moon rose</i></span></div>
<br />
it is september first so i say we are now in the fall season. i know the calendars and the solar system don't agree but that no longer concerns me. when i was a kid, the calendar was broken up into four three-month periods. december, january, and february were winter months. march, april and may were spring. summer consisted of june, july and august. and fall was made up of september, october, and november. simple and, for the most part, accurate. so i have continued to refer to the seasons by this calendar to this day. <br />
<br />
i have been a remiss blogger. i have neglected this space for much too long although i am always writing, in my head and on paper. and i have missed being here. so, in the spirit of a new season, i am going to try to post more regularly. and i hope to see you join me here. lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-29022553770577024142012-01-16T19:02:00.000-08:002012-01-16T19:28:17.558-08:00another fab gift<div>i wanted to share with you this gift i received last month from my friend (for almost 30 years!), kellie. she is a photographer, a designer, and lives her life on the cutting edge of cool.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xtM5yEwSaTM/TxTlBicurSI/AAAAAAAABVQ/p9PBpKAyTXM/s1600/DSCN0119.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xtM5yEwSaTM/TxTlBicurSI/AAAAAAAABVQ/p9PBpKAyTXM/s320/DSCN0119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698431243120454946" /></a><br />she had her photographs put into a blank journal. each page is stamped with her creative vision.<div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QpeikleKtkM/TxTlBZt7zwI/AAAAAAAABVA/B9M5LOXZRz8/s1600/DSCN0121.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QpeikleKtkM/TxTlBZt7zwI/AAAAAAAABVA/B9M5LOXZRz8/s320/DSCN0121.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698431240776699650" /></a><br />the book features scenes from her travels, her home, and the things that catch her eye each day.</div><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BPcz3QasdzI/TxTlBB68poI/AAAAAAAABU0/IjWYH58wSOg/s1600/DSCN0122.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BPcz3QasdzI/TxTlBB68poI/AAAAAAAABU0/IjWYH58wSOg/s320/DSCN0122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698431234388829826" /></a><br />i can't wait to fill it with words but for now i enjoy leafing through the images and beckoning empty spaces.</div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4AhM9xvKEY/TxTlA7WksLI/AAAAAAAABUo/erfbMPN5mmM/s1600/DSCN0123.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4AhM9xvKEY/TxTlA7WksLI/AAAAAAAABUo/erfbMPN5mmM/s320/DSCN0123.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698431232625651890" /></a><br />i love gifts that contain something of the giver, pieces of a person that i can hold and cherish.</div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0psuIvUu7fI/TxTlAgJR07I/AAAAAAAABUc/0yhN-Kn-0zI/s1600/DSCN0124.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0psuIvUu7fI/TxTlAgJR07I/AAAAAAAABUc/0yhN-Kn-0zI/s320/DSCN0124.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698431225322132402" /></a><br /></div><div>i own many journals but this one is extra special. when it is filled, i will have collaborated creatively with one of my best friends. i can't ask for more from a present. </div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-30962904876193821822012-01-07T15:51:00.000-08:002012-01-07T14:27:24.152-08:0048 in 48<div>my forty-eighth birthday is today and i was so inspired by <a href="http://andria-drawingnear.blogspot.com/2011/04/38-by-38.html">andria's birthday list</a> last year that i just had to make my own. so here are 48 things i have learned to be true in my 48 years:</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JhvfJD-z_-k/TZvV9ENux5I/AAAAAAAAAvg/d1Eu1YYmUe8/s1600/photo%2B%252813%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JhvfJD-z_-k/TZvV9ENux5I/AAAAAAAAAvg/d1Eu1YYmUe8/s320/photo%2B%252813%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592298607390672786" /></a><ol><li>people are more important than things</li><li>mexican restaurants serve the worst red wine</li><li>nice <b>does</b> matter</li><li>you are what you do, not what you say, or think, you are</li><li>living a balanced life means leaving room for junk food</li><li>walking is a good enough exercise</li><li>a good cook does not need fancy equipment</li><li>falling in love is not a crime</li><li>happiness is a choice</li><li>age happens and it is easier to just accept it gracefully</li><li>play rough, get hurt</li><li>good manners will open doors</li><li>the best weekends are like good vistas - wide open!</li><li>never say never - life will definitely humble you</li><li>you won't regret the time it takes to watch the sun rise or set</li><li>hot tea is good for the soul </li><li>bring your patience to the airport</li><li>comfort trumps style when it comes to shoes (and just about everything else!)</li><li>the more you have to do, the more you get done</li><li>summer is by far the shortest season</li><li>write it down if you want to remember it</li><li>life doesn't get easier but, with luck, age brings wisdom</li><li>finding someone you like to work with is a gift</li><li>the holiday season doesn't have to have rules</li><li>letting go is the hardest part of living</li><li>growing as a person is not linear - it takes many directions, even backwards</li><li>art = risk</li><li>real mail is so much more satisfying to send and receive than email</li><li>the presence of birth and death feels the same</li><li>getting together with old friends is never a waste of time</li><li>you can visit a place over and over and always find something new/different about it</li><li>work provides structure and meaning to life</li><li>there are an unlimited number of cloud formations</li><li>death is not the end; it is nothing to be feared</li><li>your siblings will grow up to be your best, and oldest, friends</li><li>a true, authentic life requires living through your soul</li><li>blue sky is something to smile about</li><li>everyone should know at least one favorite poem by heart</li><li>words are extensions of our thoughts and should be handled with care</li><li>there is nothing like hugging a horse for an instant shot of well-being</li><li>it's never too late to be who you really are and live the life you imagined</li><li>peanut butter m and m's are the best kind</li><li>there is a limited number of everything in life - birthdays, autumns, beautiful moments - so treasure each one</li><li>my three year old niece has the sweetest voice in all the world</li><li>you can learn something from everyone but sometimes it's not worth the bother</li><li>write, write, write</li><li>be kind even (especially) to yourself</li><li>wisdom is more important than truth</li></ol><div>i plan to add to this list as i grow even older since i am no where close to being finished learning!</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-14126405909536766782012-01-04T10:02:00.000-08:002012-01-04T10:11:31.034-08:00soaking it up<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wWCSuMxJ5LI/TwSUbwg9RZI/AAAAAAAABTE/_un-9I_4bDw/s1600/DSCN0084.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wWCSuMxJ5LI/TwSUbwg9RZI/AAAAAAAABTE/_un-9I_4bDw/s320/DSCN0084.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693839033503663506" /></a><br /><div>i'm not sure how much the human body can absorb, but i have been spending these first few days of the new year trying to soak up all the rest, peace, and gorgeous views that i can. soon i will be back in arizona, back to work and the hectic schedule that brings. so i would like to take some of this with me, hold it inside as long as i can, keep it in reserve. is that even possible? i know there will be days that i will need a shot of this feeling, of this space i am in here, to get through. just in case, i will continue to bask in relaxation and view gazing. if nothing else, it has began my new year in the right tone.</div><div><br /></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-44637578387849208302012-01-01T15:56:00.000-08:002012-01-01T16:18:53.827-08:00a new year<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GwwQC2LP1BQ/TwDy9qANHLI/AAAAAAAABS4/HmDEWihiAmQ/s1600/DSCN0031.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GwwQC2LP1BQ/TwDy9qANHLI/AAAAAAAABS4/HmDEWihiAmQ/s320/DSCN0031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692817070057397426" /></a><br /><div>the new year is here: fresh, shiny, clean, crisp, and open. soon the calendar pages will begin to fill up and turn. right here and now i am enjoying the view from the beginning of 2012 and anticipating the trek through the days it holds.</div><div><br /></div><div>my word this year is <b>action</b>. don't expect to see me zipping around with lots of energy, though. the action i have in mind is not so visible. i am hoping to complete some projects. i want to stay busy with positive activities. i will continue to work on the things that have made a difference for me so far. i have been completing the activities in susannah conway's <a href="http://www.susannahconway.com/2011/12/a-little-something-for-you/">unraveling the year ahead</a>. it is so thought provoking and full of her wisdom - i have to wade through it little by little in these lazy days of winter break.</div><div><br /></div><div>i feel like we are kids on a wooden dock over a lake in the summertime- let's grab hands, count to three and jump into the water together. i believe we will make a big splash. and come back up to the surface with smiles on our faces and giggles for our ears. ready!?</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-69886960324070536952011-12-31T01:32:00.000-08:002011-12-31T01:32:00.432-08:00dreams<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7pJiS8ytncs/TvkELeiFDBI/AAAAAAAABQ0/BhHVdUMKUm0/s1600/DSCN3419.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7pJiS8ytncs/TvkELeiFDBI/AAAAAAAABQ0/BhHVdUMKUm0/s320/DSCN3419.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690584199380405266" /></a><br /><div><i>i get my love for and ability to dream from my dad. not the kind of dreaming that involves the imagining of a better life, but the activity that takes place as we sleep. my dad says he looks forward to going to bed each night because he anxiously awaits where his dreams will take him. he says he often meets my mother, who died nine years ago, in his dreams. i have always had frequent and vivid dreams. i revisit the same non-existent places, night after night. i could create a detailed map of the geography of my dream world. i don't dismiss these dreams but neither do i take them seriously. if they have been trying to direct or inform me, i have been oblivious. but, like my dad, i happily anticipate the people and places i will encounter in my sleep each night.</i></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-24597222852074440972011-12-29T01:44:00.000-08:002011-12-29T01:44:00.758-08:00the edge<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tdNSIJSo0QQ/Tu0pwJOH3QI/AAAAAAAABOU/nEh5stNbCOo/s1600/DSCN0732.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tdNSIJSo0QQ/Tu0pwJOH3QI/AAAAAAAABOU/nEh5stNbCOo/s320/DSCN0732.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687247811524418818" /></a><br /><div><i>some of us live on the edge. the edge of comfort, of safety, of fear, of financial ruin.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>some of us find the edge inside of us - the edge of sanity, of reason, of depression and that bottomless pit.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>some of us seek the edge through daring behaviors, extreme sports, exotic travel, or substance abuse.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>and some of us avoid the edge at all costs. we turn away by playing it safe, staying home and following those familiar routines. by holding back.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>an artist finds that edge and walks its contours. she values the views from the rim in both directions. she uses the edge as a tool to guide her work.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>but the edge, itself, is indifferent to us all.</i></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-226342916752916762011-12-27T03:01:00.000-08:002011-12-27T03:01:00.471-08:00love, all wrapped up<div>i know it's been said that you can't give love in a package but i have to share with you some gifts i received this season that warmed my heart.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HcnSbBjTwOY/Tvj9USbk7RI/AAAAAAAABQo/MhIzPxX-Dz4/s1600/DSCN3435.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HcnSbBjTwOY/Tvj9USbk7RI/AAAAAAAABQo/MhIzPxX-Dz4/s320/DSCN3435.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690576654169337106" /></a><br />my friend, deanna, knitted me these beautiful wrist warmers. i can wear these while writing, typing, and even crafting! each time i put them on, i think of all the work and care she put into making them.<div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sR3J0nEycpY/Tvj9TiPzlvI/AAAAAAAABQg/uHZ4_u2oxWI/s1600/DSCN3436.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sR3J0nEycpY/Tvj9TiPzlvI/AAAAAAAABQg/uHZ4_u2oxWI/s320/DSCN3436.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690576641235064562" /></a><br />my husband gave me this book about the town where both of us graduated from high school. it is a place that is very special for both of us so this book was full of meaning.</div><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m2_qe3A-0hU/Tvj9TohibrI/AAAAAAAABQQ/6jFlmhQoqHE/s1600/DSCN3447.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m2_qe3A-0hU/Tvj9TohibrI/AAAAAAAABQQ/6jFlmhQoqHE/s320/DSCN3447.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690576642920050354" /></a><br />as one of my christmas gifts, he bought me a private concert, via skype, with <a href="http://www.myspace.com/tristentristen">tristen</a>. she is an amazing, young musician who happens to be very personable. the deal also included a journal and scarf handmade by her!</div><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WerTuuBKpgk/Tvj9TIHyXBI/AAAAAAAABQE/GmU280p66Ac/s1600/DSCN3441.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WerTuuBKpgk/Tvj9TIHyXBI/AAAAAAAABQE/GmU280p66Ac/s320/DSCN3441.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690576634222107666" /></a><br />my sister and her sweet family sent me these earrings. when i was young i loved anything celestial. leave it to a sibling to remember who you are, what you treasure under the layers of age. i am overwhelmed that she reminded me of me.</div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLdq-N2jiBQ/Tvj9TMnbdDI/AAAAAAAABP4/EHS9icxGJZQ/s1600/DSCN3443.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vLdq-N2jiBQ/Tvj9TMnbdDI/AAAAAAAABP4/EHS9icxGJZQ/s320/DSCN3443.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690576635428566066" /></a><br /></div><div>my stepdaughter gave me this precious bracelet. it is symbolic of so much we have been through but states that love ultimately remains. </div><div><br /></div><div>and, yes, sometimes it can be wrapped and gifted at christmas.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-42073808122692033962011-11-27T18:54:00.001-08:002011-11-27T19:06:20.209-08:00wild deep<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8tnqWofE61Y/TtL4TPxe0CI/AAAAAAAABMA/ibAvPrx6G7g/s1600/1127111737.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8tnqWofE61Y/TtL4TPxe0CI/AAAAAAAABMA/ibAvPrx6G7g/s320/1127111737.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5679875089602891810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i>holiday decor (still in progress)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div>i have been in what some call the wild deep. that place within myself that is far removed from others, from social obligation, from reaching out. i have been constantly thinking and creating, though: silently, thoughtfully, intensely. and now i am ready to share all that i have harbored. the holiday season is at our doorstep and i am inviting it in with joy. i plan to be much more visible this month and i have lots to share with you. and i am ready to fully take in what you are doing and look forward to the conversations we will have in this space. thank you for being here.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-60554198814473567452011-11-14T05:03:00.000-08:002011-11-14T16:58:39.945-08:00friendship<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S2pj7FR5K2A/TsER71f1E7I/AAAAAAAABLs/0Lz6viJ7d_g/s1600/IMG_3325.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S2pj7FR5K2A/TsER71f1E7I/AAAAAAAABLs/0Lz6viJ7d_g/s320/IMG_3325.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674836725134070706" /></a><br /><div>one of my friends turned forty last month and decided to celebrate by coming down from colorado to arizona with two of her good friends for veterans' day weekend. they arrived late thursday night and stayed until sunday evening. the time in-between was so full of joy and healing that it can only be described as pure girlfriend magic.</div><div><br /></div><div>we traveled from phoenix to wickenburg to sedona and all the way up to the grand canyon. but we also journeyed into each other's hearts and stories. we shared hopes and opinions and ideas. the time we spent in each other's presence lasted from morning until early morning and we filled every minute with synergy.</div><div><br /></div><div>i should be tired and crabby today from the lack of sleep i have gotten. but, instead, i am inspired and content. i feel beyond lucky to have gathered these three women in my space for three days and for the chance to bask in their incredible positive energy. each of them is so full of light and warmth. i am still glowing.</div><div><br /></div><div>and so i encourage you to round up your friends, new and old. drive. talk and eat and stay up late. spill your secrets onto their laps just to feel the support and love that will fill your soul. give up your sleep and a few days for an experience that will gift you the best of memories. a girls' getaway is not a cliche or just for the young and unattached. it is not a travel industry advertisement. it is for all of us - an opportunity to give and receive the best we have to offer.</div><div><br /></div><div>and, in case you were wondering, i am to the far right in this photo. HA! no, not really. :-) i am second to the right, surrounded by (left to right) my soul sisters deb, evie, (me), and audrey.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-16327017073479548832011-11-12T01:55:00.000-08:002011-11-12T01:55:00.381-08:00me, a to z<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wnb1uZ0Yftk/TniNY22WvHI/AAAAAAAABDw/IfPy8tUg9s0/s1600/lb-vintage%2B002.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wnb1uZ0Yftk/TniNY22WvHI/AAAAAAAABDw/IfPy8tUg9s0/s320/lb-vintage%2B002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654424790343531634" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">A. Age:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> 47, on the eve of 48</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">B. Bed size: </b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">Queen. not too big, not too small</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">C. Chore that you hate:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> anything that has to do with red tape. or cleaning.</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">D. Dogs:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> they are like people - i like some but not others. however, i have had some very special ones in my life. <3</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">E. Essential start to your day:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> coffee with cream, a moment of meditation</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">F. Favorite color:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> the color of the sky right before it gets dark</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">G. Gold or Silver: </b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">silver</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">H. Height:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> 5’11"</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">I. Instruments you play:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> I don't play any well but that doesn't stop me from occasionally trying </span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">J. Job title:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> reading interventionist</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">K. Kids:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> none of my own; 4 nephews and 2 nieces; 2 step-children; hundreds of students; currently one cat</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">L. Live:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> glendale, arizona; northwest of phoenix</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">M. Mother’s name:</b><span style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b> </b>lana kae</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">N. Nicknames: </b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">my nieces and nephews call me lolo :-) my brother and sister used to call me baby when we were growing up even though i was the oldest kid in the family</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">O. Overnight hospital stays: t</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;">hankfully none and i intend to keep it that way!</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">P. Pet peeves: </b><span style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b> </b>slackers at work</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">Q. Quote from a movie: </b><span style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b> </b>"damn it, jim!" oh, that was a tv show. but jim is my husband's name so it is just fun to say every once in awhile</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">R. Right or left handed:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> right</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">S. Siblings:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> a younger sister and an even younger brother</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">U. Underwear:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> comfy over attractive</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">V. Vegetable you hate:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> i love veggies!</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">W. What makes you run late:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> daydreaming</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">X. X-Rays you’ve had:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> arm, teeth</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">Y. Yummy food that you make:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"> my mom's gingersnap cookies</span></span><br /><b style="color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">Z. Zoo animal</b></span><b style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(31, 31, 31); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px; ">:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "> i'm really not a zoo person</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px; ">and you?</span></span></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-18460700762432813052011-11-10T01:15:00.000-08:002011-11-10T01:15:00.711-08:00lake shore walk<div>the following is an excerpt from a journal entry i made on sunday, november 6:</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNBYbZVsUl8/Trs0wtL50EI/AAAAAAAABKk/TrxBZkEXlZ8/s1600/DSCN3287.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tNBYbZVsUl8/Trs0wtL50EI/AAAAAAAABKk/TrxBZkEXlZ8/s320/DSCN3287.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673186166971158594" /></a><br /><i>we went for a walk along the lake shore this morning. i was comfortable sitting inside but something was beckoning me to step out and experience the day.</i><div><i> </i><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-La1Ik8Ex9pE/Trs0wFEhBcI/AAAAAAAABKY/3M7Ui2kJ1Ys/s1600/DSCN3285.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-La1Ik8Ex9pE/Trs0wFEhBcI/AAAAAAAABKY/3M7Ui2kJ1Ys/s320/DSCN3285.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673186156202755522" /></a><br /><i>the lake water is way down, leaving little "treasures", natural and other-wise, out to view.</i></div><div><i><br /></i><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yawNcuxMZUI/Trs0v5rtXeI/AAAAAAAABKI/KPrYAMY-P9M/s1600/DSCN3282.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yawNcuxMZUI/Trs0v5rtXeI/AAAAAAAABKI/KPrYAMY-P9M/s320/DSCN3282.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673186153145916898" /></a><br /><i>the water plants in curvy formations in the sand, rusty railroad spikes, broken glass catching light, driftwood in awkward formations, and rocks in varied colors. thin layers of ice covered small pools of water on the mud, crunching delicately under our feet.</i></div><div><i><br /></i><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kaiLB8F7rLg/Trs0vcaJDOI/AAAAAAAABKA/F2jv4aaOLLY/s1600/DSCN3279.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kaiLB8F7rLg/Trs0vcaJDOI/AAAAAAAABKA/F2jv4aaOLLY/s320/DSCN3279.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673186145287605474" /></a><br /><i>a thin line of geese swam next to us until one of them honked a cryptic directive and they lifted off the water with powerful strokes of wings.</i></div><div><i><br /></i><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dKzrKGj7byQ/Trs0vHeqq-I/AAAAAAAABJ0/1f86TAWQKAE/s1600/DSCN3277.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dKzrKGj7byQ/Trs0vHeqq-I/AAAAAAAABJ0/1f86TAWQKAE/s320/DSCN3277.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673186139669441506" /></a><br /></div><div><i>the air here smells of wood smoke and lake water. in the six weeks since we were last here, autumn has settled in where there was once the sparkle of summer.</i></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-77425027250321979702011-10-20T05:41:00.001-07:002011-10-22T08:42:12.299-07:00being back. kind of.<div>i returned home last saturday from spending a week in italy. the following is one of my pre-sleep scribblings which describes how i feel after jumping back into regular life again.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QrtpcE2-VCo/TqAXFKBLSMI/AAAAAAAABGw/SKVXnFhQ0-8/s1600/DSCN1182.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QrtpcE2-VCo/TqAXFKBLSMI/AAAAAAAABGw/SKVXnFhQ0-8/s320/DSCN1182.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665553708588157122" /></a><br /><div><i>i have been so tired this week. it is as if i am still there, but here, and not quite whole. flying is hard for my spirit and i blame it on having an old soul not used to speeding through the air above the earth. at night, i snuggle with sleep, unwilling to release it when the time comes to get up. in the dark, my mind sorts through the memories from our trip: mentally sorting, scrapbooking, journaling. i was gone only a week but this vacation will last as a part of me now, settling into the frame of my life, graphing itself into me for good.</i></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-62981438951975202222011-10-06T17:41:00.001-07:002011-10-06T18:02:26.216-07:00love letter to rome<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HMuGyxwf4NU/To5K5PQ04cI/AAAAAAAABFs/BjDnCr8QaxM/s1600/DSCN1158.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HMuGyxwf4NU/To5K5PQ04cI/AAAAAAAABFs/BjDnCr8QaxM/s320/DSCN1158.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660544128861397442" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><i>a page from my travel journal featuring a vintage postcard of the colosseum </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: left;">dear rome,</div><div style="text-align: left;">i have been away from you much too long, i know. there was a time in my life when you were my truest love and i thrived in your embrace. well, i am returning in just a few short days to see you again. this time i have no checklist, no agenda, for you and i are beyond that stage in our relationship. i am coming back to just sit in your piazzas, walk your cobblestone streets, and drink in the intoxicating atmosphere that has made you popular for centuries. and, i must tell you, i am bringing someone with me - you don't know him but he is someone i believe will be as enamored with you as i am. so look for us as we look for you. and know how much it has meant to me over the years that you remain solid in a world that spins much too fast.</div><div style="text-align: left;">love, me</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>*i will be in italy for a week, october 8 - 14. a presto!</i></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-32149729806498227662011-10-02T18:45:00.000-07:002011-10-02T19:10:45.733-07:00prickly love<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C74-OSVq1CM/TokW6ffrdjI/AAAAAAAABE8/n5aFIO7jG-Y/s1600/photo%2B%252864%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C74-OSVq1CM/TokW6ffrdjI/AAAAAAAABE8/n5aFIO7jG-Y/s320/photo%2B%252864%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659079600910333490" /></a><br />while hiking a couple of weekends ago, i spotted this cactus. at first it seemed like such an opposition - a heart with spines?! we snapped a few photos and moved on down the trail. but this image has stayed with me and i have given a lot of thought to why this cactus is the perfect <i>spokes-thing</i> for love. lets face it, love is often very fickle and hard to hang on to. it is visible but difficult to approach. we like to imagine it as warm and fuzzy but it <b>can</b> be pokey and cause pain. just think of how we protect our own vulnerable hearts behind defense mechanisms more complex, but just as effective, as thorns. so a cactus heart really does have a lot to say about the nature of love. pliers, anyone?!lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-65846706104837708792011-09-29T05:30:00.001-07:002011-09-29T05:53:30.005-07:00the truth<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mbFkqus88nQ/ToRlNQKiEsI/AAAAAAAABEI/avl0Tsu68bM/s1600/DSCN1091.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mbFkqus88nQ/ToRlNQKiEsI/AAAAAAAABEI/avl0Tsu68bM/s320/DSCN1091.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657758310236033730" /></a><br /><div>the truth is i would love to write and paint and create more often than i do. i run around through my days with ideas simmering in my head but often that is where they stay.</div><div><br /></div><div>the truth is i want to blog every day or at least several times a week but this isn't what happens. sometimes more than a week slips by between posts.</div><div><br /></div><div>the truth is i work a full time job in which i use up so much energy doing the way i believe it needs to be done. there are evenings when i arrive home with nothing left to give. </div><div><br /></div><div>the truth is i sometimes get discouraged and begin to believe that i should put all my artistic pursuits on the shelf. at least for now. and just focus on the immediate things that need to be accomplished on a daily basis.</div><div><br /></div><div>but the truth is i would not be me if i gave up on this part of my life. so i will continue to search for those bits of free time, treasure and use them fully when they appear, and try not to berate myself when a few days go by that are filled up with the other parts of my life. i will have faith that there will be time, here and there, for all i wish to do.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-86216060489571601752011-09-16T01:57:00.000-07:002011-09-16T01:57:00.394-07:00my love of clouds<div>i love clouds. i find them more interesting and beautiful than anything else i see on a daily basis. how lucky i am that what i enjoy so much is easily found here on earth by just looking up most days. </div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXBc1uJGof4/TmzqPXKWaqI/AAAAAAAABDQ/uspUxNtJdh4/s1600/photo%2B%252856%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXBc1uJGof4/TmzqPXKWaqI/AAAAAAAABDQ/uspUxNtJdh4/s320/photo%2B%252856%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651149182079494818" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.nehmzow.de/reportagefeatures/view/?modus=bigimg&kat=12&foto=1&page=1">click here for an absolutely gorgeous view of clouds. </a> and let me know what it is that you love to look at.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-65182349295430124132011-09-14T19:03:00.000-07:002011-09-20T16:34:50.372-07:00where i'm from<div><div align="center"><strong>Where I'm From</strong></div><div align="center"><strong><br /></strong></div><div align="center"> </div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6zmhR-16WDs/TniNu3xgYMI/AAAAAAAABD4/nZGd1K0EC6M/s1600/lb-vintage%2B001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 220px; height: 320px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654425168548749506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6zmhR-16WDs/TniNu3xgYMI/AAAAAAAABD4/nZGd1K0EC6M/s320/lb-vintage%2B001.jpg" /></a></div><div>I am from the shadow of mountains, from coca cola and long, dusty roads.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from the little cozy houses throughout the west, filled with outdoor treasures and warm fires.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from the lilac bushes in spring, my mom's carefully planted petunias, scattered cedar trees, sage brush, wildflowers and lots of wood.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from homemade Christmas presents and philosophical dinner conversations, the Little House books and the music of John Denver, from Lana and Rex, Meezy and Dirty Dan.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from the gypsies and the scholars, the dreamers and the workers, the hunters and the gatherers.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>From "play rough, get hurt" and "people are more important than things."</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from the natural places more sacred than churches, poetry recited aloud, the wonder of science, the power of gratitude, and the embrace of uncertainty.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from the Black Hills and the Rocky Mountains, Lake Pend O'reille and countless winding rivers, nourished by elk burger, gingersnap cookies, and homemade birthday cakes.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>From the little brown nickel my mom tried to buy an ice cream with, the wolf my dad saw in the Colorado mountains, and the shoes my grandma coveted when she was young and oh, so poor.</div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>I am from keeping memories in my mind (so they will never be lost) and the joy of retelling family stories to each other and our newest members.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>*This template was used by <a href="http://www.trainstutusandteatime.com/2011/09/where-im-from.html">Corrine</a> on her blog last week. I just loved reading hers and had so much fun writing my own. The original can be found <a href="http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm">here</a> in case you would like to try it.</div><div> </div><div> </div></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-11108317335669735572011-09-14T01:36:00.000-07:002011-09-14T01:36:00.147-07:00signs<div>one day a couple months ago we took my two nephews for a hike. the beginning of the hike was steep and we all stayed together, sharing water and taking breaks. then, on the way back down to the trail head, they picked up their pace and got way ahead of us. i was somewhat worried since i could not see them and wasn't even sure they stayed on the right trail. then to my delight, we found some signs on the path that they had made with sticks and rocks to let us know they were up ahead. </div><div><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TaV2zwK2FOE/Tmzl0TL4gVI/AAAAAAAABDI/63XMpZRCR4Y/s1600/DSCN0658.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TaV2zwK2FOE/Tmzl0TL4gVI/AAAAAAAABDI/63XMpZRCR4Y/s320/DSCN0658.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651144319109202258" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>this one says lolo, which is what they call me</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><br /></i></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3uVqYB06fGs/Tmzl0Mc4aZI/AAAAAAAABDA/xwPn7IEvPBU/s1600/DSCN0659.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3uVqYB06fGs/Tmzl0Mc4aZI/AAAAAAAABDA/xwPn7IEvPBU/s320/DSCN0659.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651144317301451154" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>here they scratched my name in the dirt and left an arrow pointing to which way they had gone</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >i often wish there were more signs in life to show us which way to go and let us know we are on the right path. maybe i just need to slow down and start paying attention.</span></div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-35320402328045512182011-09-12T01:26:00.000-07:002011-09-12T01:26:00.348-07:00low to no tech<div>here is a glimpse into my low to no tech style of writing. i have been using a notebook i bought for 28 cents and a mechanical pencil (with thick lead since i tend to be a hard presser.) i can throw it in my bag and take it out wherever when i have another thought ready to be put to words. </div><div><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IVFBAPhGo1E/TmzhW42O4oI/AAAAAAAABC4/UxH75Ew_gQI/s1600/0910110827a.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IVFBAPhGo1E/TmzhW42O4oI/AAAAAAAABC4/UxH75Ew_gQI/s320/0910110827a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651139415776354946" /></a><br /><div>i am writing a short fictional story. it was inspired by a dream i had one night (i have some crazy dreams!) and has since been pushing at me to get out. i love being caught up in a creative project and this has kept me busy thinking and writing for days. i don't know what i am going to do with it when it's finished. maybe some stories are written just for the sake of the writing.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-61451183617819131702011-09-09T01:42:00.000-07:002011-09-09T01:42:00.142-07:00healing<div>i have really been thinking a lot about the process of healing lately. it requires complete presence to overcome illness and injury. and i'm not sure if the things i am learning are universal or just pertain to my own body and mind.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dHjeOIwFktc/TmUZwjycd9I/AAAAAAAABCw/jM8_cMVPphM/s1600/photo%2B%252854%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dHjeOIwFktc/TmUZwjycd9I/AAAAAAAABCw/jM8_cMVPphM/s320/photo%2B%252854%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648949629637392338" /></a><br /><div>for me, i discover the most about this process by <b>not</b> thinking, by letting my body help me feel my way through it. but it also requires a strong, steady mindset - it is easy to over-react, get off-course, succumb to fear. i made a list of the things that are healing for me including hot tea, long baths, sunshine, music, the sound of rain, deep sleep, and patience. i plan to review this list when i need to focus on getting or keeping well. it is part of the human experience to care for our bodies when they encounter difficulties and they all eventually do. i encourage everyone to make a list of the things that are healing for you so you will have it on hand when the need arises.</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-2245949665405275872011-09-07T01:31:00.000-07:002011-09-07T01:31:00.318-07:00an angel<div>i believe in a guardian angel of roadkill. an invisible saint that comforts animal souls after they have been hurt or injured by vehicles.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cE1h_CD3WLg/TmUV40yEeJI/AAAAAAAABCo/2fW2t2JOURs/s1600/photo%2B%252859%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cE1h_CD3WLg/TmUV40yEeJI/AAAAAAAABCo/2fW2t2JOURs/s320/photo%2B%252859%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648945373591664786" /></a><br /><div>this being's soft voice drowns out crunching metal, squealing tires and shattered glass. her warm touch protects against impact with hard and rough surfaces. but most of all, the angel's presence conveys love during a horrific experience. she accompanies these victims to a peaceful place away from machines and pavement. it is what any living being deserves, especially those without guilt or power. so i choose to believe in and honor this most special of guardian angels. </div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-87453236371902325922011-09-05T11:20:00.001-07:002011-09-05T11:30:44.552-07:00my tribe<div>i like how the word <i>tribe</i> is used to describe those in your close circle, your best friends and strongest connections, the like-minded souls you feel akin with. it sounds like a sacred word in a somewhat cold and secular world. to be in someone's tribe is a great honor and privilege. </div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-japEwAxGPO8/TmUTB6fXuEI/AAAAAAAABCg/SQtrh4gn-OU/s1600/DSCN1005.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-japEwAxGPO8/TmUTB6fXuEI/AAAAAAAABCg/SQtrh4gn-OU/s320/DSCN1005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648942231207786562" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i>artwork by my nephew, frankie</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><i><br /></i></span></div><div>in my own life, my tribe is small and change is rare. i guard my tribe fiercely and have a very nurturing role with its members. it brings me heartache to have someone within, for whatever reason, move on. my tribe gives life meaning to me and inspires my best self to come forward. i continue to hope and work for a better world because of my tribe. who makes up your tribe?</div>lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4721337531088132074.post-55531455577448731252011-09-03T01:54:00.000-07:002011-09-03T01:54:00.221-07:00birth day stories<a href="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTnHvBOEMdG64_Eap4YuHGQo6GHhzHRZDZ6B-VT1NUPRGjIo3gw" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 253px;" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTnHvBOEMdG64_Eap4YuHGQo6GHhzHRZDZ6B-VT1NUPRGjIo3gw" border="0" alt="" /></a>
<br />every time someone i know celebrates a birthday i ask to hear their birth day story. we all have one that is as unique as we are. where were you born? what time of day did you make your appearance? who was there? what was the weather like at that time? each birth is surrounded by joy and pain, hopes and dreams, memories and connections. there is an energy that is present when someone enters this world that contains so much possibility. time holds billions of birth stories out there and each one is sacred and precious. i encourage you to tell these stories, write them down, linger over the details and make them a part of the fabric that is your family.lauriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02433914150035377956noreply@blogger.com1