Isabella Bird Miscellany

waking: aware, conscious, alert  Morning musings as I meander not so meticulously. This particular day was one of those stellar days. It was cold and ice clung to the just-watered grass. It was crunchy and slippery. I needed to pay attention, at least in part, to my steps. Noticing my steps makes for a mindful walk. I see things. Experience what's going on. Breath could be seen, not just taken in. Air movement felt, causing hands to be pushed further into jacket pockets. My steps made prints in the icy grass. So did Bella's and every other dog roaming around. I would not begin to equate my park walks with my labyrinth walks.  However, I do notice that I walk quickly to get to the park. Slowly while in the park; leisurely on the way out of the park. This rhythm sets a good tone for my day. day is waking up                 assorted birds say it’s so with their voices the sun is much lower; to the south shadow play is on a different slan

she lived an abstract life,          one painted, but lacking elements of realism existence was too harsh whereas the color-washed reality was delightful and delicate, full of impulse                  open to possibility        children live an abstract life                     she had chosen to join them Existing in thought or idea, but nothing concrete and tangible - abstract. Paintings, feelings, the wind, these are intangibles. I often feel like I live in and relate more to things, people, places that are abstract. There's a certain mystery, something to uncover. Abstract is experienced, felt. It's not quantitative. It can't be defined or put in a box with a pretty little bow. I often wonder why we want to define everything.  Think about it. Your job has a description, an ailment is named or given an acronym and heaven forbid we leave the house without our phone which contains our defined, concrete life. I have a job description, a few named ailme

Pink Floyd’s “ Dark Side of the Moon ” has been rumbling around in my car for the past several weeks. Ethereal, out-there, reverb melodies echo. Lyrics seem odd to the casual ear turned only to the instrumental depiction of helicopters and clock alarms sounding. The song, “ Time ” says, “ ticking away the moments that make up a dull day. ” That phrase has been stuck in my head. Maybe it’s because we view much of life’s routine as dull. dull: not sharp, blunt, causing boredom, tedious, uninteresting, not intense or lively, passionless, flat, stagnant, routine, usual What makes up a dull day? The answer to that question is as broad as the people you ask. For me, a dull day is a day without creative stimulus; for others it might mean having to do the same repetitious routine they did the day before and the day before that and so on ad finem. When I looked dull up in The Thesaurus, words like common, usual, routine and ordinary came up, along with a slew of oth