Water Prayer Workshop

In honor of Earth Day, I held a lunchtime workshop at Aveda on Tuesday. What fun! Wish we could do it every week. And actually there's no reason why I couldn't spend a lunch hour making beads and extend an invitation to everyone. Kind of like a quilting bee, but with paper beads.
That's always what my workshops feel like - to me anyway. I love how everyone comes together, and just settles into the making of things, and the gentle conversation that swirls around. Inevitably, more people wander in, during and afterwards, so the energy doesn't just start up and stop, but slowly gathers and then just as slowly dwindles.
Still, I can feel it in my body for hours afterwards. An electric pulse as if I am a battery being charged.
It never fails that everyone is amazed at how relaxing and rewarding it is to make even such a small thing as a paper bead. We get so far away from these simple things that bring us so much joy. It's hard to squeeze them in, but also I think, we dismiss them as not being worth our time. Somehow too childish. Because that's what we remember. Being a kid and making things like this. Whiling away hours. Happily.
The head of PR popped her head in and immediately thought it was a great project for school kids. Which of course it is. But to be honest, I always enjoy making way for the child in adults. We need to be in touch with this part of ourselves. It isn't childish. It's a direct line to our hearts, and who we really are.
Like chanting, like running, and meditation -- like anything that takes us out of our busy minds, and brings us back to the quiet and peaceful place that is pure being.

Two Stories and a Funny Pic

Came across these two little stories kinda long time ago..think they're meaningful and worth sharing. And also a funny pic..which gave me a good laugh.#1: A man asked his father-in-law, "Many people praised you for a successful marriage. Could you please share with me your secret?" The father-in-law answered with a smile, "Never criticise your wife for her shortcomings or when she does something

howling

Last Friday night on the train going home, I was chanting quietly pretty much to myself with my headphones on, when I notice the woman seated in front of me becoming agitated. She tilted her head back, into the crook between the window and the seat and howled a few times as if she were answering a wolf call. She did this a number of times on the 2 hour journey home.
Now, I know my voice isn't smooth as silk. But I'm pretty sure I also don't howl like a dog. And given the amount of noise going on in the train, it's a mystery to me that she heard me at all. Not only was there the usual throng of people talking to one another, and talking on their cell phones, but the new thing is these walkie talkie phones which emit a nerve-racking beep everytime the speaker changes -- not to mention that we now get to hear both sides of the conversations. Add to that the clackety clack, clack clack of the train on the tracks, and the booming voice of a man who seemed to have a clergy collar on, but was striking up one sided conversations with anyone who would listen -- and the fact that I could hear all this while quietly chanting to myself. Well, you get the picture, I'm sure.
At first I was embarrassed, mortified, humiliated into silence. But I hadn't taken my headphones off, and slowly began chanting again. And thinking about whether I was the one being rude, by refusing to stop singing. Finally, it became clear to me, that the woman who was annoyed by the sound of my voice in song had every right to be annoyed, but also had the mobility to move, as I do myself when there's a shrieking kid and I have a headache, or some other annoyance I just can't bear.
And that gave me the comfort I needed to continue my chants as quietly as possible, without feeling threatened or that I was somehow misbehaving in public.
Of course, had she simply leaned over nicely and asked me what I was singing, and would I mind not doing so because she had a headache or was super sensitive to sound, I would have been happy to stop or move. But her reaction was so twisted it really was a magnificent teaching, giving me pause to really consider the situation and investigate how I felt and why.
I've been doing a lot of investigating lately. And today I took a new yoga class at Shri Yoga and the instructor was guiding us to think of our past as something that supported us in our journey into the future.
She used the body - specifically our legs -- as connective metaphors. In the Warrior II pose, our back legs, straightened, were the past which supported us; our front legs, bent and leaning, were the future.
She told us also about a friend she'd spoken to in the morning, who'd said she always takes some time in the morning to remember who she is.
It was a wonderfully challenging class physically, and refreshing spiritually. Every ounce was engagement, from ears to lungs to little toes.

wordless

Magic Class Graduation

I think the last memorable thing before I came to Batu Pahat was the TzuChi Magic class graduation ceremony. Talking about TzuChi, I joined this organization few years back after participating in one activity "Caring day for the lonely elder" in Singapore. That was the first time I heard of it, and was deeply inspired by it. It is a volunteer-based, non-profit organization founded by Dharma

KENT, Pure Magic & Dunhill Shows

Think it's been quite some time I didn't update my blog..hmm let's just make a summary of what happened in these few months..before my memories fade! Where should I start..hmm first of all MMF had its second gathering at Fish&Co in Sunway Pyramid. Needless to say, this was another successful one and was merrier than the 1st. The highlight of the day would be Baalan was invited to perform to our

juggling

How many projects can you keep in the air at one time? That's a question I often ask myself, as I have a tendency to spread myself pretty thin. Last week I added yet another ball to the many already in play. I am leasing a space at the local antique market, The Carousel, a multi-vendor store that's just up the road from the house.

When I was growing up in Poughkeepsie, The Carousel was a bar and I remember going there once or twice, drinking sloe gin fizzes, and worrying that my parents would kill me if they knew where I was. At that time, Stanfordville was really the boonies. Now, it's become a part of the sprawl that is New York City. When my ex and I first bought the house, the only other New Yorkers up here had fled the Bronx years ago. People used to call me "Miss New York". Now, city folk are a dime a dozen. Many have moved up here full time. And there are a fair share of McMansions.
Today was the first day I had a chance to get outside and do some raking. The leaves are all matted and rotting from last Spring. I can't remember ever getting to it this early. Usually I am wrestling with more undergrowth, but I seem to have gotten a head start this year.

It's a completely false sense of accomplishment. The yard gets out of control so quickly here. I never have enough time or money to do the planning and planting that so desperately needs to be done. But I love the wildness of it too. And at this time of year, I can enjoy feeling hopeful, enjoy the buds about to burst, and not worry too much about my unruly yard.
Inbetween two bouts of yard work, I took a hike over at Buttercup to check up on the deer carcass I'd found a week or two ago. Still there, not dragged off by the coyotes. So I'm hopeful I'll still have a chance at those two hoofs I need for a rattle.

On the train ride here, I snapped some pics of the city in motion. Another study. Maybe for drawing. Maybe for painting. Maybe for no reason at all.


But back to juggling, and why I've added yet another seeming distraction. In truth, it's a solution to a problem that's been nagging me for years. I've amassed collections of everything from suitcases to plates. Antiques, yard sale finds, cast offs from my mother's annual garage sales. A lot of artists have an insatiable collecting streak. Maybe it's an aethetic thing. Maybe it's a hole in ourselves we're trying to fill. But at some point the "things" become oppressive. And maybe that's an age thing - or just a point we all reach somewhere along the line. I've been collecting these things in my kitchen for 3 years - with the intention of having a yard sale that never quite happens. For one thing, pulling together a yard sale takes quite a bit of planning. And like I said, I never have enough time.
But back to the Carousel. I stop by there a couple of times a year thinking that it might be fun to do. And this time when I stopped and dreamed, I realized it was actually a way to get everything out of the kitchen in pretty much one fell swoop - with an opportunity to perhaps put a bit of my art in as well. So far I've just got the first load in - with more on the way.

I've got vintage clothing, a ton of silver deposit glass and lots of other antiquey odds and ends that I am really ready to part with. It's a really freeing feeling to let go of so much. I want to make more and more room for working with and living with my art. And that means taking a little bit of a side trip for a while. Of course I hope that this new venture will be profitable as well, but for the time being I'm just so excited to be seeing floor and wall space I haven't seen in years. And ultimately I fully expect to be able to start using the room that used to be my studio, but had turned into an oversized dumping ground. Like I said, I'm making headway. It's spring cleaning on steroids.

springing

It's amazing to me how suddenly all forms of life appear as soon as it warms up a bit. Throughout the winter, there's always an odd spider or mosquito in the house, but this weekend we had a wasp, an undentified ant like bug with a beautiful red tail, and a number of moths. In fact there's one fluttering right now, right outside the window where I've moved my lap top and desk.
Like the crocuses and other early spring bulbs that seem to pop out of nowhere, overnight - these signs of life are always welcome. I like the little insect surprises. There's something about them that fascinates me. Where do they come from? How did they get in here? I try my best to scoop them up and take them back outside where they belong.
I haven't seen a lot of deer this season. Maybe I've just been too busy, or not getting up early enough. Maybe, because the winter's been so mild they're not hanging out in my yard as much foraging for food. I haven't found many animal bones this season either, although to be honest, I haven't exactly been hunting for them.
So today, it was a nice surprise while hiking in Buttercup, to come upon 7 doe grazing upwind from me. I was able to stand and watch them for a nice long while. Because they didn't have my scent, they weren't spooked, and I could take them in. Their shapes in the distance. The graphic display of their tails, looking something like an African mask when in the down position. When they run, the tail pops up and is all white.
Likewise, I was suprised to come upon a deer carcass a little way down the trail. It's amazing how quickly they decompose, get torn apart, and still there's tons of fur all about. I dragged it off to the side of the trail in the hopes of going back tomorrow or next week. There were a few hoofs still there, and I am still collecting those to make a rattle.