i didn't realize how much i rely on lists until today, when i wrote "make a packing list" with a check box beside it. really? on a list of things to do, are you really going to include another list? and then it dawned on me that as much as i enjoy crossing things off my agenda, it's rather disconcerting to think that i have an agenda at all. that i structure my days in such a way that permits me to complete tasks. for as free as i believe my life to be, i feel that i am limiting myself to whatever is written on my moleskin. and that scares me. i wonder if it's not on my list of things to do, will i do it?
this self-reflection led me to think about a recipe. a list of ingredients with specific instructions to follow. oh how easy and comforting it is to use the exact ingredients with the exact measurements, following the author's prescription to a T. what comes out is good. satisfying. safe.
but what about those times when i improvise? when i make substitutions based on how i feel? when i say "forget the list" and explore? those are the times when i feel free. when i discover something new, interesting, surprisingly delicious. i let myself feel before i think. and that is what i strive for: letting go of the lists so i can live without inhibitions, taste without reservations, and love without conditions.
10.30.2010
10.27.2010
wednesday
today is a lovely day. it is wednesday. it is fall. a bit warmer than my liking, but who can complain when santa monica is as peaceful as it is?
here's some love to get through the rest of the week :)
10.23.2010
today at the market
it was an autumn image: ominous clouds with breaks of light. an intermittent chill as the wind swept to and fro. scarves. sweaters. coffee cups. and then the ultimate beauty: stands and stands filled with all of autumn's glory. today's trip to the farmer's market was unlike any other. apart from the weather being perfectly orchestrated to create a picturesque image, there was something different. something comforting.
i couldn't quite put my finger on it until i smelled the soil and nature of fresh sage. and heard the crisp of an heirloom apple being bitten into. and tasted the tartness of a pomegranate, with each crunch of a seed reminding me of its threatening stain. and i felt the smooth skin of butternut squash...like butter on my fingers. and then the colors! the golds, deep greens, the burnt oranges and burgundies.
today's trip was soulful. now don't get me wrong, i do love every market day, every item i buy, every fruit i taste. but today finally felt like autumn. and with autumn, comes comfort. cozies. spice. today at the market, my love affair with this season was unveiled. and thank goodness! i don't know how long i could've kept it a secret :o)
i couldn't quite put my finger on it until i smelled the soil and nature of fresh sage. and heard the crisp of an heirloom apple being bitten into. and tasted the tartness of a pomegranate, with each crunch of a seed reminding me of its threatening stain. and i felt the smooth skin of butternut squash...like butter on my fingers. and then the colors! the golds, deep greens, the burnt oranges and burgundies.
today's trip was soulful. now don't get me wrong, i do love every market day, every item i buy, every fruit i taste. but today finally felt like autumn. and with autumn, comes comfort. cozies. spice. today at the market, my love affair with this season was unveiled. and thank goodness! i don't know how long i could've kept it a secret :o)
10.17.2010
one of those days
today is one of those days when all i care to do is...
lounge in my comfies. drink vanilla green tea. read the paper. cook a portuguese chorizo-kale stew. write a letter. and pay respects to that dear old friend, mr. naptime.
it is chilly. it is dreary. it is everything i anticipate come this time of year. oh, why must fall be only a season? why does it greet us with all of its refreshing glory, only to bid us adieu in a few months? regardless, i'm just thankful for a day like today, when i don't feel one ounce of guilt for being absolutely lazy. when being "productive" only refers to restoring the spirit of comfort and centeredness.
it is a truly blessed day. and by golly, i'm going to rejoice in it!
lounge in my comfies. drink vanilla green tea. read the paper. cook a portuguese chorizo-kale stew. write a letter. and pay respects to that dear old friend, mr. naptime.
it is chilly. it is dreary. it is everything i anticipate come this time of year. oh, why must fall be only a season? why does it greet us with all of its refreshing glory, only to bid us adieu in a few months? regardless, i'm just thankful for a day like today, when i don't feel one ounce of guilt for being absolutely lazy. when being "productive" only refers to restoring the spirit of comfort and centeredness.
it is a truly blessed day. and by golly, i'm going to rejoice in it!
10.14.2010
a fall mixture
baby greens + roasted chicken + pomegranate seeds + golden beets + cremini mushrooms + fingerling potatoes + a homemade dijon vinaigrette = my delightful salad i would like to refer to as "a fall mixture"
yum!
yum!
10.12.2010
what is your "sunday?"
everybody has a "sunday" - a day sans commitment. no agenda. no work. no expectation for you to be somewhere for some amount of time. as a full-fledged working woman, i realize that this "sunday" is absolutely necessary for complete restoration. coming from a person who already finds ease in the every day, you can only imagine how special this sabbath is...how how very special it is!
my work schedule doesn't necessarily grant me a specific day - say a monday or saturday - but i am most definitely guaranteed at least one full day committed to all things simple. lovely. restful.
these past few weeks, i've noticed a pattern. though not planned, i've found myself filling my "sunday" with leisure breakfasts. a roam through the farmer's market for the season's best. the sweetest. the richest! perhaps then a good read. or a bike ride. of the beginning of preparing something delightful using the morning's fresh picks. and then a picnic. picnics are very much a part of my life now. i love ending my "sunday" sitting on a blanket, earth beneath, filling my body with something tasty, hearty, or light. these weekly restorative days are celebrations of a life lived completely. and who doesn't love a celebration?
as i conclude my reflection on the beauty of having a "freebie of the week," may you conquer the wear and tear of a working life, and take joy in your "sunday."
my work schedule doesn't necessarily grant me a specific day - say a monday or saturday - but i am most definitely guaranteed at least one full day committed to all things simple. lovely. restful.
these past few weeks, i've noticed a pattern. though not planned, i've found myself filling my "sunday" with leisure breakfasts. a roam through the farmer's market for the season's best. the sweetest. the richest! perhaps then a good read. or a bike ride. of the beginning of preparing something delightful using the morning's fresh picks. and then a picnic. picnics are very much a part of my life now. i love ending my "sunday" sitting on a blanket, earth beneath, filling my body with something tasty, hearty, or light. these weekly restorative days are celebrations of a life lived completely. and who doesn't love a celebration?
as i conclude my reflection on the beauty of having a "freebie of the week," may you conquer the wear and tear of a working life, and take joy in your "sunday."
10.04.2010
fresh
today i realized i have a philosophy on freshness. it all started with contemplating this evening's treat...
last night, emma, abby, and i rekindled our past over tea, coffee, and treats. amazingly, i couldn't finish my chocolate-marble coffee cake and decided to take it home. what in the heck was i thinking?! i NEVER eat leftover treats. first of all, there's hardly a time that enough treat is actually left over to fully satisfy the next day's craving. second, eating the same treat two days in a row leaves my palate rather disappointed and, frankly, gypped. and most importantly, a leftover treat is by no means, fresh.
and so now back to my philosophy on freshness. fresh flowers. fresh fruits. and vegetables. fresh air. lighting. bread. tea leaves. treats. you name it. if it's fresh, it's golden. i believe we experience the richest sensations when something is fresh. colors, scents, textures. through freshness, we are enlivened. we feel before we think. an impression is made. and because freshness only lasts for so long, there is always that anticipation for the new, for the next batch of goodies. when it comes down to it, life is too sweet to not indulge in the pure and vibrant moments of our every day. and so i do.
with that being said, my leftover coffee cake stands alone. uneaten. one-day old. unfortunately, its life has come to an end as did its freshness. but my oh my, am i ever excited for a fresh slice of banana bread!
last night, emma, abby, and i rekindled our past over tea, coffee, and treats. amazingly, i couldn't finish my chocolate-marble coffee cake and decided to take it home. what in the heck was i thinking?! i NEVER eat leftover treats. first of all, there's hardly a time that enough treat is actually left over to fully satisfy the next day's craving. second, eating the same treat two days in a row leaves my palate rather disappointed and, frankly, gypped. and most importantly, a leftover treat is by no means, fresh.
and so now back to my philosophy on freshness. fresh flowers. fresh fruits. and vegetables. fresh air. lighting. bread. tea leaves. treats. you name it. if it's fresh, it's golden. i believe we experience the richest sensations when something is fresh. colors, scents, textures. through freshness, we are enlivened. we feel before we think. an impression is made. and because freshness only lasts for so long, there is always that anticipation for the new, for the next batch of goodies. when it comes down to it, life is too sweet to not indulge in the pure and vibrant moments of our every day. and so i do.
with that being said, my leftover coffee cake stands alone. uneaten. one-day old. unfortunately, its life has come to an end as did its freshness. but my oh my, am i ever excited for a fresh slice of banana bread!
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