blue skies

Depth

the more you look, the more you see.

This photo reminds me of an art class I took in ninth grade. Every week I had to turn in an original drawing. I've never been much of an artist, but I'd manage to turn in some sort of landscape that included layers of mountains. Shading was my strength. It's nice to see reality copying imagination.

Dreary

Don't let the weather deceive you. I had a great time. I forget how healing Colorado can be.

Leaving

...not by plane, though...on what feels like will be a vacation. hasta luego.

Mindful

Mi pueblito

The reward for making it to the top.

Muddy waters

Flow...or cleanse

Today has been one of those days in one of those months in one of those years.

At least I get to head north to greener places soon.

Longing

Frame...

Open

Circle to the left

close to home

arriba...

proximos pasos

This is probably one of my favorite photos ever. I can't put my finger on exactly what attracts me to it. Is it trying to figure out who sat on that chair? Were they waiting, and if so, for what? Or were they content to just sit?

I wanted to post a photo every day last month. So now it's over. I don't know what my next step will be. I do know that this has given me a review of times of my life that have come and gone, but still very much a part of me. They are a reflection of  the way in which I see the world.

But still, I realize the limitations of a photo. There is always a filter of what I choose to see and what gets left out.

But then, isn't that merely a metaphor for life?

Plateau

Spring

levity

a while back, a teller at my credit union told me, "i love your earrings. are they foreign?"

me: "yeah, texas."

teller: blank stare.

me: trying VERY HARD not to laugh at my joke. the level of hilarity increases directly with the lack of response from the other person.

i can't help it. i'm a dork like that.

Update

One of my two readers told me that although she likes the photos I've been posting, I need to write. Ask, and you shall receive, no?

Here's my monthly report in six words: I ran, I coughed, I read.

The El Paso marathon was at the beginning of the month. After being around people the week before with varying levels of illness, I started to not feel well the Friday before the race. I managed to sleep pretty well that evening and made the drive down to ELP. The day of the race, I didn't feel great, but I didn't feel unwell, either. Since the race was paid for, I decided to do it.

I thankfully had my mile nine even before I hit mile two. Nearly the first four miles is straight uphill. There are a few ups and downs but for the most part you're climbing. I noticed that my heart rate started to skyrocket, so I walked about a mile. A slow mile. Aside from being told multiple times before a hill, "It's all downhill from here," the race was fun.

El Paso holds a special place in my heart, the place where all the toxins have congregated. Seriously, the soil under the Asarco plant was black. Black. Look at the mountain off in the distance to see the color in the rest of ELP. The plant's smokestacks are visible.

Okay, this is not the greatest picture, but you get the idea. Nevertheless, I got sick after the race. (I do like El Paso, considering... See the line of cars? Those were people going to the race. We stayed two blocks from the start line. 9 flights of stairs was my warm-up.)

Yes, folks, the never-ending battle with the microbes that won't leave me alone. It was worse than a marathon. My endurance for this crap is wearing thin and my inner adolescent has been unleashed. I'm tired of it disrupting my life and having to forgo things because I don't feel well. I'm finally getting my energy back, though.

I've had more time on my hands to read. Part of the month I didn't have much energy to do much else but read. When I went to Las Vegas last month, I came upon a book entitled The Solace of Fierce Landscapes: Exploring Desert and Mountain Spirituality by Belden C. Lane. It mixes death, life, and stark landscapes. I've had a hard time getting into certain parts, but there was a quote Flannery O'Connor that he referenced: "...sickness is more instructive than a long trip to Europe." There may be some truth to that.

Lane also discussed books by Kathleen Norris. I had heard of her when I read Anne Lamott, who quoted Norris in one of her short stories. Last week I read Acedia and Me and Dakota. Both were good reads, but Dakota really hit home. Although the land that I'm from is not as stark as the western plains, many aspects of the culture she described hit the mark. Right now I'm reading The Cloister Walk. Maybe I'll write a post about all the things that are coming up reading her works.

Next month I'm headed to Colorado for another training for the leadership program. My sister will be joining me for part of the time, and we'll likely be able to catch up with other family members. I have a long weekend starting Friday. My plans for the weekend didn't pan out, but I feel like I need the time to emotionally get over the malaise. Retreat and renewal.

Welcome, Spring.

tempest

Passing

Perspective

Littoral

guard

Desejo

Blooming

Clearing

Today, the clouds lifted and my mood shifted...

refuge

only a few more weeks...

higher

zenith

Projections

you have to hike your own hike

however far you need to go.

I'm on a boat!

Reprive

(i'm not sure why the photos lose resolution when posted. that's the moon near the branches at the top.)

autorretrato

foliage

waiting for spring

perspectivas

vista(s)

Reflejos

reflections of how i feel today.

Recovery

I ran a half marathon this weekend. Since then, what were just hints of getting sick have turned into a full-blown cold. Yuck. At least I have a cool medal to show for all this.

Melancholy

Contemplation

The speed of my life

This picture reveals more about my life than I want to admit. Frenetic pace, at times. Blurry. Too much of it spent in a polluting machine.

Stop

The sign, a reminder of why I was there in the first place.

Lift

Sometimes the seconds on the edge are all that matter.

Muir Beach.

Caminos

The past two days I've been reviewing photos I've taken over the years. I've decided to post some of them here on my blog as a way to help them to come to life. I don't know much about photography; it's all intution. Something propels me to capture a moment, to bear witness. I'm drawn in when a picture reveals a dimension forgotten or missed entirely.

This photo got me thinking. There are strong beliefs in this culture about forging your own path, but this one is hundreds of years old and worn smooth by countless feet. Perhaps it might be wise to know when to take a well-worn trail or when to go out on your own. I think one can even forge his or her own path following the steps of others. You just have to make it your own, whatever it may be.

Neblina obscura

No coming, no going

Katowice, Poland

After the storm

Meditation

The start of "Mindful" by Mary Oliver reminds me to be grateful for the beauty in the world.

Every day
  I see or hear
        something
              that more or less
kills me
    with delight...

It reminds me to look, to listen, and to be.

The thin line

Part of my spiritual practice includes meditation on the breath, observing movements of inhalation and exhalation. Focusing awareness on only that, everything else falls away. Each respiration embraces life and death. The air that sustains us often goes unnoticed unless we stop and be present.

This past week, I learned of the death of a former elementary school classmate. Since I lived in a rural area, the school I attended was very small and everyone knew everyone else, at least on some level. He moved two towns over after graduating from high school and had married someone from there. They had two children.

I didn’t know him well, though, and didn't have any contact with him after I moved away after graduating. But my heart goes out to the family, because in a matter of breaths, they no longer had a husband or a father.

May they eventually find peace in the sorrow.

My mind still can’t make sense of his death or the meaning of it. I don’t think I have ever understood death beyond its most basic conception.

Returning to my breath, I do realize that this moment is a miracle, and I give thanks.

Hola

This year, I want to try to do more writing of any sort. I failed miserably with NANOWRIMO, but to my credit, some uninvited beings set up shop in my lungs and began building their own unsanctioned community. They didn't leave until it was too late. I would have had to write nearly 4k words per day, in addition to getting caught up with everything else in my life after being sick.

So my other goal is to really focus on my health. I'm tired of having how I feel physically affect what I can and can't do, and I don't want all my energy to go to just one part of my life. Running really helps when I can do it. I just need to keep myself at a place where I can.

It wouldn't be a new year without a list, so here's some of what else I'd like to do during the next 12 months:

• Teach a meditation class at a local prision
• Participate in NANOWRIMO
• Take a jewlery making class
• Bake a loaf of bread

It's all out there for the universe to see. I think all my goals from years past still apply, except for running a marathon. Not this year. My motto for this year is shorter and slower.