I'm with my mom's aunt and cousins at our family's house in the Cascades. It's wonderful. I was only going to stay for a night and drive back with my brother, but I decided to stay the whole week.
These women came from Santa Barbara and New Jersey and Florida to spend some time in the mountains. They are amazing and lively and tell the best stories, and sing like angels. My great aunt Margaret is one of the funniest people ever. And she makes a killer caramel sauce that we all drizzled over our ice cream last night.
Stephanie and my uncle Mike are working on a website/archive for my grandfather's artwork, which is fun to watch. They're interviewing Papa and recording him and flipping through all his sketchbooks and portfolios. We found the shop in Wenatchee that displays some of his paintings and Stephanie just up and bought one of them. It barely fit in the SUV. All in all, I'm thrilled to be spending quality time with these people and getting some fresh mountain air. We hiked to Hidden Lake today and all stuck our heads under the waterfall. Three generations. Stephanie said again, "that was delicious."
On Monday I spent a little time walking around the campus of my grandparents' art guild. The doors are always open, so I wandered into the Grange hall, the pot shop, the barn with the woodshop downstairs and lofty classroom upstairs, and the fiber arts studio, where my grandmother weaves. The sun was hot and air smelled like pine needles, it was a little piece of heaven.
All day I had this song running through my head:
And something still told me that I needed this for some reason. The same reason I can run for so long, and I have to remind myself to breathe deep sometimes. This little ball in my chest.
I've just been quiet. Until I get this website and fundraiser and these films and stories and everything done...I just don't feel present where I am. My brother gave me a little advice, which was to get back into my body, especially my feet and hands. Meditation, yoga, sex, exercise....Today whenever I felt like I wasn't present I just looked down at my hands. Somehow it makes me feel better.
Now we're at my uncle and aunt's cabin perched in the middle of this beautiful forest, and I just made a Famous Chocolate Cookie Cake. It's supposed to be a log of cookies smothered in white whipped cream. I've never done it like that. My two white logs transformed into a blue and a red chromosome crossed with a purple center. It looks really weird but I couldn't resist. We're a family of artists after all....
Stephanie and my uncle Mike are working on a website/archive for my grandfather's artwork, which is fun to watch. They're interviewing Papa and recording him and flipping through all his sketchbooks and portfolios. We found the shop in Wenatchee that displays some of his paintings and Stephanie just up and bought one of them. It barely fit in the SUV. All in all, I'm thrilled to be spending quality time with these people and getting some fresh mountain air. We hiked to Hidden Lake today and all stuck our heads under the waterfall. Three generations. Stephanie said again, "that was delicious."
On Monday I spent a little time walking around the campus of my grandparents' art guild. The doors are always open, so I wandered into the Grange hall, the pot shop, the barn with the woodshop downstairs and lofty classroom upstairs, and the fiber arts studio, where my grandmother weaves. The sun was hot and air smelled like pine needles, it was a little piece of heaven.
All day I had this song running through my head:
And something still told me that I needed this for some reason. The same reason I can run for so long, and I have to remind myself to breathe deep sometimes. This little ball in my chest.
I've just been quiet. Until I get this website and fundraiser and these films and stories and everything done...I just don't feel present where I am. My brother gave me a little advice, which was to get back into my body, especially my feet and hands. Meditation, yoga, sex, exercise....Today whenever I felt like I wasn't present I just looked down at my hands. Somehow it makes me feel better.
Now we're at my uncle and aunt's cabin perched in the middle of this beautiful forest, and I just made a Famous Chocolate Cookie Cake. It's supposed to be a log of cookies smothered in white whipped cream. I've never done it like that. My two white logs transformed into a blue and a red chromosome crossed with a purple center. It looks really weird but I couldn't resist. We're a family of artists after all....
