October 2006 Archives

Rare times together are important. I was reminded of this so much with my big Sis. So much of life is spent speeding onto the next thing only to look back and wonder why we are all moving so fast. The ten days that we carved out of our schedules to just be sisters was well worth it and will be treasured...

but it was too short.

Ah well, ten days well spent at any rate. Museums, food, wine, galleries, antiques, girl talk, food, mommy talk, art, and of course more food.

Such a good time.

But the airplane was waiting and so was her family on the other end of a long flight so I had to let her go home. Bummer. Left with hugs and promises to do it again, soon.

Last day with my big Sis visiting. We stick to my normal routine and do an "artist date" which for me has consisted of painting. In truth the last ten days were like one big artist date visiting museums and doing all things stimulating. It made it easy to pick up a brush this day. Marta took over my dining table working on illustrations of a children's book while I took my normal place downstairs at my rickety old easel.

Hopping the metro we headed toward the mall in search of lincoln. We found him and in the process tripped over the WW2 memorial, the Wall, the Washington monument, the smithsonian Museo Soumaya and finally the The National Museum of African Art. We ended the day at the Hirshhorn .

Marta with Lincoln.

A day of fun with art and antiques. Later we had dinner at Franklins who judging by my sister has the absolute best garlic mashed potatoes on the planet.

Here reflected in a massive mirror my Sis and me, the "davenport sisters", marta and blair.

Savage Mill

Check out The ONE campaign video. Bono's soccer mom, Shayne who I spent time with in seattle at Sally's conversations is at the front of the line! Way too cool!

It is so easy to get involved. And who wouldn't want ONE of those sexy RED t-shirts?

Marta and I hopped on the metro bound for The National Archives for some more DC sightseeing. While in the NA we struck up a conversation with a gent from turkey who asked our opinion about a photo of the lunar landing. The subject of speculation was the apparent non-existent shadow of the american flag. Dispelling any conspiracy theories, Big Sis proudly informed the man that she had seen the landing live on tv. The man seemed duly impressed. We then chatted differences in our foods, culture, and what his travel suggestions might be if we ever came to visit turkey.

We spent most of our time in the archives but finished the day at the National Museum of the American Indian. The weather has turned cold the wind was bitter walking back to the metro station. Between that and all the walking we arrived back home fairly worn out.

Monday felt like a good day to chill. I did some work while Sis curled up with a book wrapped in a chenille blanket on our "magic couch". We call it that because it is a big, comfy, soft leather couch that tempts you to sleep if you dare to stretch out on it. Personally I think every house needs at least one piece of furniture like this. Something that you can snuggle to on a cold day, or be soothed by when you are sick. Marta took advantage of the "magic" catching a few zzzz's while reading.

The calm in the house was later broken by a call for help from Daniel. He had exhausted his supply of contact lenses and had thrown out his last pair before realizing it. We had some old prescription lenses stored away (for just such an emergency) so Bryan, Sis and I ran up to Baltimore to the rescue. We found Daniel in front of one of the main buildings at MICA setting up a sculpture assignment on the sidewalk. Somewhat handicapped by his semi-blindness, he still managed to finish set up in prep for a class critique minutes away. We delivered the lenses, gave quick hugs and were off.

Since we were in Baltimore we ended up having a bite at Legal Seafoods. Couldn't resist some raw oysters. YUM.

And what better way to finish off a day then with Bryan's chocolate lava cake.

We finished our day by driving into crystal city for dinner at this cool little place called JALEO. Bryan and I had seen Jose Andres on tv the night before and thought his cooking style was really cool and then while wandering crystal city, bumped into his restaurant by accident. Amazing food served tapas style.

The food was so pretty we all pulled out our cameras which elicited laughter as we simultaniously shot the food and each other. Here is Marta pre-shot-mid-laugh.

Bryan aiming at me while I aim at Marta.

Wandering a bit in Crystal City.

Then we drove back (top down) through DC to see some of the buildings at night.

A visit to Arlington National Cemetery is something that Bryan and I had not done and so it seemed like a good idea and was something that my big Sis had an interest in. So we set out to visit this sacred place. A beautiful crisp day made for a great setting of quiet contemplation as we walked this park that houses the remains of over 250,000 souls, an emotion prompting place to be sure.

Saturday Marta got in on our weekend tradition of french toast. Proving to be a very laid back day, we didn't venture out of the house until about four-thirty, and then it was in search for more food. Bryan and I had schemed early on that we were going to put Marta's taste buds to the test during her visit and tonight was no exception. The food experience for this particular night would be ethiopian. We love it but it in not for everyone especially the style in which you eat it. You order your food and it all comes on one communal plate that is placed on a short table in front of you. Then you are given a bread that is sort of like a pancake that you tear apart and use as your utensil for picking up your food. Very tasty and very tactile. Makes for a unique and sensual food experience.

Our plate of food. Bryan's and Marta's hands tearing at the "bread".

After dinner we kept the theme low key and went and saw "The Prestige" . Very good movie with a somewhat surprise ending.

My friday was an extremely special as I get a rare visit with my sister Marta. She arrived Wed afternoon and Bryan and I took her to one of our favorite little spots for dinner. And then chatted our way all the way through thursday night. So friday we set out on the metro toward the national mall to check out some art.

The National Gallery can be as overwhelming as it is inspirational, especially if you try to go backwards in time starting with contemporary art and finishing off with 13 century italian. We stopped for lunch at the fabulous cafe that sits between the two buildings. At least we mellowed the feeling of time warp by eating before jumping back in time.

Here is Marta in front of Lavender Mist.

Considering Diego Rivera.

After indulging on picasso, mattise, calder, warhol, rembrandt, and the huge "sketches" of
constable we met up with Bryan at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum for some live jazz and great food at the Jazz Cafe.

It never fails to surprise me, what inspiration can come from experiencing great art, music and good food. Good time.

I absolutely love this dove campaign. Using photoshop on an almost daily basis makes me well aware of how we idealize anything visual but this is true deception. Check out this video on bobbies blog. Thanks bobbie!

This morning my thoughts were drawn to all the things that we value within and for ourselves and more importantly what makes us value those things. Maybe it is because it is tuesday. Maybe it is because it is raining.

I am presently struggling with (when am I not) how western secular culture trivializes things that are sacred. And even worse, how the machine of christianity has trivialized the teachings of Christ by turning them into a well packaged commodity. The end result of both of these things has lead to the trivialization of...

life.

I am not talking about life as in some sort of fundy rant against abortion or some soapboxy subject that people latch onto to make themselves feel superior or make trendy political platforms. I am talking about something entirely different and easily overlooked.

The sacredness of living. There is an art to it. A pilgrimage. A discipline.

The sacred holistic way of living that employs balance in all things.

And there is nothing balanced about prevailing western secular culture or consumeristic christianity. Both seem to end at the same road where over consumption, brought on by greed, or the notion of entitlement make us live in an unbalanced manner. One common factor seems to be selfishness. Living selflessly is not vogue in either culture.

But what bothers me is that the teachings that allow for holistic living have been lost in the fray. The misconception that christianity is equivalent to the teachings of Christ has caused a pendulum swing that risks throwing the baby out with the bath water...

or throwing the teachings of Christ out with the church. Many well intentioned (but misguided) believers over history took profound mystical wisdom and boiled it down into digestible bits to make it more palatable to the masses. Easy consumption may have prompted complacency which in turn justifies a lack of sacrifice and a sense of entitlement. It is just too hard to delve deep into truth-we just want the bullet points and make sure it only takes thirty minutes-thank you very much-I have stuff to do...

Life is on speedial. And so is our spirituality.

We expect it quickly, we consume it quickly. We treat life like an all you can eat buffet and wonder why we have indigestion after the mass consumption. While "good" church-going christians point their judgmental fingers at secular "heathens" they may be attending a six week course on discipleship that promises spiritual maturity lickety-split. At the same time the secular "heathens" may be pointing their fingers at the "hypocrites" as they themselves may be going down in the flames of mass consumption.

Both abide inside a mentality of instant gratification. Both trivialize the sacredness of life. Both leave it dis-functional. Both have negative ramifications that will be passed down for generations.

Deep spirituality is a lifetime pursuit and that makes it unheard of inside a fast food culture.

And so we settle.

We settle for a life that is less. And just by using those words it sounds like I am back at what may be heard as "entitlement". But no. Real life is much deeper, more sacrificial, more humbling, and therefore more beautiful.

But much more difficult.

But only so if we look through the eyes of a culture that seems to require our very soul just to fuel the pace. If instead we look as an apprentice who gains an amazing gift through the process of living each moment learning from a master, the process itself may seem more inviting. I guess for me that doesn't seem so difficult because any truly valuable thing is worth an effort. And how much effort is the living of life worth? Although I live in a disposable society that does not mean my faith is disposable. I can't escape the presence of an eternal being even when I listen to the rain.

So how do I follow in the footsteps of a being who's teachings are not accepted in a church that he came to teach? When the theme of the teaching is love while the church spends so much energy on the surface matters simply to judge, how then do I live?

I do. But maybe I have to do it within the ebb and flow of humanity which now exists outside that church. Because those teachings are still profound and should not be sacrificed because the church so often gets it wrong. The teachings speak to humanity's core. They breath life into life and protect it. If I can take the time to look past the fumblings of "christianity" and into God then there is something worthy. Connecting with the creator. Connecting with the very Source of Love. Enabling me to love. Loving god, loving my neighbor, loving myself.

Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.

Even though these words get overlooked because we have heard them over and over, I focus on them again for direction. If everyone who ever read these words spent a lifetime focusing on them and somehow strived to actually live them, how might that change the world?

Might there be hope in the next generation of god-followers? The wind is shifting and history marches on so I become hopeful in the future of faith. I become hopeful when I listen to the rain. I become hopeful at the invitation of a friend's sacred day. I become hopeful in talking with my son.

Surrounded by a culture that seems to trivialize life...

I am hopeful.

We started out Sunday morning (well it was actually noon) with spinach and cheese eggs and the comfy feeling of eating together at our table.

With the throws of fall upon us and a lovely bright day we ventured out to do something fun and creatively stimulating. Bryan had stumbled upon this new little gallery practically in our own back yard that we had somehow missed. It was quirky and cool with a focus on local (silver spring) artists. It is called Alchemy and while we were looking at all the great art we managed to reveal to the very talkative caretaker that we were all artists, her eyes lighting up she invited us to contact the owner for further information.

After this great find we walked across the street to a local seafood haunt and had some lunch making plans to head into Adams Morgan for some more gallery scouting.

We bumped into the Nevin Kelly Gallery which I put on my list of galleries to send samples to in hopes to find a home for my thin places, or at least a brief showing.

We finished of the day by having dessert of green tea cheesecake and mango sticky rice at a cool little place on U street.

We picked Daniel up Thursday night late and brought him home. Friday was a quiet day of resting reading and of course, eating. Lots of conversation about school and the challenges of college life, getting to know the quirks of various professors and what their expectations are. I did fall into some old habits like calling him sweetie and bud.

Ah well, old habits die hard but he didn't even seem to mind.

Saturday we went back to Baltimore to pick up Celine to spend a day with her. Plans shifted slightly as she was suffering from an awful cold and it was apparent that gallery hopping would not be a good idea. Opting instead for soup and salad at our house and just chilling, watching the movie Mirror Mask was just the right thing. Both of these art students have been working full bore after all and so "fall break" really needed to be a break. After a low key day of rest we headed north for dinner and to take Celine back to Baltimore. With the chill in the air this will probably be the last time we crave sushi so we headed to our favorite place Sushi Sono.

Here is Daniel and Celine at Sushi Sono.

Bryan was called back to his home town to attend his grandfathers funeral. I never sleep well when he is gone so I am a little sleep deprived (but nothing compared to him because of a crazy flight schedule). The last few days have been spent finishing projects and preparing our house for Daniel who is coming home for fall break. Bryan arrives this evening and we pick up Daniel shortly after. A bit of a whirlwind.

I am both excited to see my son within the context of our home again, but I also know that things may feel a little weird. Having been "out on his own" for a month-and-a-half though seemingly a short period of time, has been life changing for him. And so I contemplate what that will feel like inside the shifting role of parenthood, even simple things like how we speak.

Can I still call him kiddo? sweetie? bud? All the things I called him when he was five?

Maybe not.

But even more important, will I be able to hear, between the lines of speech and conversation, the longings of his heart? Will I be able to know his mood simply by reading his subtle body language and minute facial expressions? Or will those things be different? Will I be able to express wisdom in a way that will be heard for future choices.

Or will I have any wisdom?

It is interesting that Daniel made a choice at a very early age (I think he was eight) to pray for the characteristic (or gift, or whatever you want to call it) of wisdom. It was his idea an so over the years I have prayed for that for him. And through the years I have prayed for other characteristics too, like...

Discernment.

Discernment and wisdom are probably the two most useful tools to navigate life. And if prayers are answered (and I believe when you ask for godly characteristics they are) these two tools sharpen each other and enable you to make choices that benefit your life. I think that is where blessings come from. I have never thought that if you pray for blessings that you will get them randomly dumped on you. Instead there is more of a spiritual pilgrimage that takes place when you start with simple things.

Like wisdom.

And there are pivotal moments in life when those characteristics kick in. These are typically times of great transition when the landscape is foreign and new and so you pull out that moral compass to check your position, make a note and decide which direction is the right one.

The act of checking this compass is important and totally counter-cultural due to the fact that it requires pause. So many great explorers relied heavily on a real compass to keep from getting lost possibly endangering their lives. Checking the compass takes time and contemplation. The spiritual discipline of standing still to feel the wind before moving forward may seem quaint but only because we are now used to high acceleration SUVs with automatic GPS systems.

Have I exhausted the metaphor yet?

So this weekend as we enter another phase of what our family looks like, I will pull out my compass (maybe we all will) test the wind, and look toward the horizon that is our future.

My artist friday merged into saturday as I continued work on spirit wind (or super-hero girl). Still much detail to finish, but it is progressing nicely. Thin places seem less restricting in this character, plus there are multiple dimensions that I am experimenting with. She seems to move fluidly thru all.

Hmmm....

It is not a good start to a day when you go outside to set out the recyclables and discover that your husband has run over a kitten with the car...

and it isn't dead.

Cats in our neighborhood run wild (mostly due to my next door neighbor). They breed every year, a fresh batch of cute fur balls play in our yard every spring only to grow into mean, ugly, scavengers missing tails and eyes and are general pests that use our yard as a litter box.

But this is just a kitten, a little black and white only a few months old. I cringe and realize that its injuries are severe (parts coming out) and so it will be dead soon, then I will get the shovel and take it into the forest behind our house...

breaks my heart.

So later in the day I have to get the big blue bin out of the driveway so that Bryan can park the car, and I get a shovel to move the fuzzy corpse and there lies the poor thing...

and it still isn't dead.

The humane person in me feels horrible that it must have suffered all day long and now I am faced with what must be done...

but I can't bring myself to do it. The right thing would be to put the little suffering thing out of its misery but I am both grossed out by the grisly sight and yet can't eve fathom whacking it with the shovel.

This is horrible.

So I take my shovel and scoop up the animal trying not to hurt it further (who am I kidding). I carry it down the hill to the forest behind our property and try not to look at it. But the few glimpses that I get reveals that it seems to have a broken back. At this point I am feeling huge amounts of guilt for not killing it in the driveway. Giving the shovel a swing I heave the poor thing into the forest praying that it died on my shovel, or at least on impact from the toss. I feel awful.

Would I feel as bad for a lesser creature?

What if it had been a rat instead of a kitten? Would I have had the same hesitation? The same compassion?

I shot this in at SeaTac and then applied a ps watercolor filter to it. The whole window seems to be a depiction of origins (i think-could be wrong on this) with the sun and moon as father and mother pouring out their gifts of splendor on to the rest of creation including the dreaming couple at the bottom. Truly beautiful. I just love the expressions. The artist is cappy thompson.

you can see the whole window here