have you ever heard of andy goldworthy? if not, you should. he has an unique ability to see beauty inherent in the natural world and display it for the world to appreciate. he collaborates with nature to make new creations from the most simple yet extremely sensitive perspective.

my roommate, amanda the cartoonist, let me borrow a documentary on the nature artist and i was completely inspired. after watching the film, i wanted to get lost in a forest sewing leaves together or stack stones along the shore only to have them swallowed up by the tide. then i looked outside at the caged trees and the concrete planters… my artistic release just doesn’t belong here.

i went to the mountain this weekend… i needed to get away, to search, to be still. as i sat there upon the rock, reading the last days of Jesus, i began to cry. though a story can be read again and again, sometimes the meaning seeps deeper and its Truth requires a new level of acceptance than had previously been thought… life from death, freedom from pain, beauty from brokenness. it was one of those kind of moments which i felt naked and vulnerable in the bigness of the purpose yet completely held and secure in the love for which it was done. the moment left me artistically inspired.

i began gathering the poppies scattered around the hillside in the most vibrant shades of orange. i held them in my shirt like i had as a little girl picking dandelions, until my pile was overflowing. returning to the rock upon which i was sitting, i cleared out the vines and weeds from within the deep crack. one by one, i placed the flower blooms within the rock, until my collection had been exhausted. i stepped away from the site and watched the life of the flowers flow from between the walls of the rock.

He has risen.

He has risen, indeed.

i can see the vain in the blades of grass. nature’s most popular shade of green is woven together in a beautiful ribbon as it bends in the wind. the blades, they wave at me with their little fingers and anchored in the hand of the ground. maybe they’re welcoming me to this peaceful place or maybe they’re just playing with the wind. i’d like to think they’re happy to see me.

if i lift my gaze only inches higher, i see nothing but the ocean’s endless horizon. a single line, stretched across the breadth of my view and humanity’s existence. that line has never really changed but has remained constant in the span of time. if i strain my eyes hard enough, i can almost make out the gentle curve of the earth’s surface as the cool blue hugs the globe. if i look even further, i think i see china… or at least it looks like it could be china.

there is a point along the ocean’s edge where the sun shines so bright the glare of the water literally binds the sea and sky as one. it seems as if there is no separation of the two and if i were to pinch my fingers at that point, i could pull the two right out of their place, as if i were pulling a cloth off of the table. it’s probably not as simple as it appears to look right now and i have a feeling they’re just where they need to be. but being this high and seeing this far makes such impossible feats seem almost possible.

i turn my eyes from the expanse of my view to the city on my left. the buildings seem less daunting from up here as i squish them between my fingers like a child might playing with a piece of candy. the fervor of activity and commerce is swallowed by the ocean’s mist. as strong as it may appear and as presumptuous as it sometimes pretends, it’s vulnerable in the hand of the Creator.

the buildings will fall with His quakes and are limited by His shorelines. the city tries to dwarf me in her shadow but in reality, she never make me feel as small as i do right now in the bigness of His sky. she scares by her tactics of intimidation, He humbles in me in His majesty. the trees gently tower over me and the waves powerfully crash below me. the number of blades of grass before me baffles my mind at the thought of their count. the wind controls the placement of my curls and the sun reddens my skin despite my disapproval. i am humbled in a way that requires me to sing praises not rejection; i am filled with joy and not obligation. life is added to my day and not taken from it. yes, this is how it was meant to be… i simply need to change my perspective.

there is something about living in a city which makes you feel weak and in adept. it’s almost like it controls you. you’re dependent on its bus schedule and its signals to cross the streets. so many people clamoring to find a place within its boundaries, you’d would think you feel like one of the lucky ones to have made your way. but the cynic in you says it’s not all it’s cracked up to be… but really just hiding the fact that you think you’re just missing it.

you turn your head as you cross the gutters as the pungent smell won’t allow you to inhale. there is the moment on 1st street where you are pleasured by the scent of baking bread and the next moment by the starbucks french roast. the smells changing as fast as your quickened step past the homeless drunk.

constantly, the eyes of the city are scanning you for the uniqueness of your purse, the color of your shoes, the placement of your curls. you cannot help but join the game, curious of their own story and wondering where they’re going… thousands of people cross your path yet you don’t exchange words with a single one. even though you can zone the sounds of movement and traffic out with the every present ipod, the energy of the moment hits you from every direction. the 30min ride home on the bus is no longer the unwinding transition it used to be in a car.

the first thing you do when you get back is wash your hands.
the city has left its fingerprints all over you and your first instinct is to wash them off and away.
but it never really goes away… that’s the thing about the city.

The lights are off and my blinds are pulled. It’s not that I want people to see in, I simply want to see out. I hear night goers on the sidewalk below as they saunter from one bar to another. ‘The Page’ is one of our neighborhood favorites and a good place for them to spend an evening. I bet if my pajamas weren’t so comfortable and this curled up position wasn’t my favorite way to end a day, I bet we would talk. But as it is, I’m not going anywhere and they’re off to their next stop.

The third floor apartment across the street from me frequently leaves its curtains drawn and i see another woman sitting on a couch in her sweats on her computer. Hmm… I wonder if she’s writing a blog or contemplating the sights and sounds of her neighborhood. I would probably bet not because few other people seem to find such delight in the processing of their senses as I do. It is a strange train of thought, one that never seems to find conclusion or resolution, but is in a constant state of discovery in a cyclical journey. No, she’s probably just checking her email. 9 times out of 10, that’s what I’m doing as well. I shouldn’t present myself as being so purposeful.

Loud motorcycles whiz by and as much as their clamor disturbs the gentle traffic lull, I understand the freedom and excitement they are now enjoying and therefore, I excuse their presumptuous presence. An old Chevy drives by with the top down and Johnny Cash blaring from the speakers. I wouldn’t mind spending an evening that way either. He’s excused as well.

And if I let myself think about it long enough, I might have to admit… I like this city. I know the thought sounds simple and un-meditated, but it took me a long time to be able to say that. It took me awhile to find anything good to say about this place except that the weather is warm. But I think that’s finally changing.

Maybe San Francisco is like an onion… when you first cut into it, it makes you cry. But if you let it cook, if you pull it a part and allow it to saute, it really is lovely place and goes with pretty much anything. Well, maybe not chocolate chip pancakes and I guess a lot of people don’t like onions. Hmm… that’s not a very good analogy. I’m definitely not the caliber of cook to be able to make such cooking comparison with life lessons. But then again, I maybe I should try onions in my pancakes and maybe you should try onions again before you say you don’t want them on your hamburger. I promise, they are a wonderful vegetable. Hmm… I’ll think about this one a little more.

The urgent of life had taken over the important and
I didn’t know if it was necessary to continue this blog of musings.
But as I sit her, recording these thoughts,
I feel a little light flicker within, one which I haven’t felt in awhile.
The kind that seems to be filled with potential and energy.
The kind that makes me want to re-read this post several times to makes sure I’ve said it the way I intended it and in the voice I want you to hear.
The kind that makes me feel a little more alive this minute than I had the last.
Ah, yes, I’ve missed writing, I really have.
It’s time for me to return to it as I believe it’s been waiting for me.
So let’s try this again.

Here is the Washington Post’s Mensa Invitational which once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter and supply a new definition.

Here are the winners:

1. Cashtration: The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who’s both stupid and an a**hole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone: The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It’s like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it’s like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon: The gruelling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit: The frantic dance performed just after you’ve accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug: Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you’re eating.

The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words. And the winners are:

1. coffee, n. the person upon whom one coughs.
2. flabbergasted, adj. appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. abdicate, v. to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. esplanade, v. to attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. willy-nilly, adj. impotent.
6. negligent, adj. absentmindedly answering the door when wearing only a nightgown.
7. lymph, v. to walk with a lisp.
8. gargoyle, n. olive-flavored mouthwash.
9. flatulence, n. emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
10. balderdash, n. a rapidly receding hairline.
11. testicle, n. a humorous question on an exam.
12. rectitude, n. the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.
13. pokemon, n. a Rastafarian proctologist.
14. oyster, n. a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
15. Frisbeetarianism, n. the belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
16. circumvent, n. an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.