Tuesday, December 26, 2006

it's snowing men...



Meet the two newest men in my life...

The first came as a Christmas gift from my mother... a foot-high wooden artist's figure. "It was the closest I could come to getting you a husband," she said. Apparently the place she bought it thought I would be offended by her thoughtfulness -- on the contrary, not only am I immune to her marriage comments, but I also figure that the day she stops making them is the day she really gives up on me...

I called him Michelangelo, in honor of the fascinating subject of the best book I've read since I've been home (The Agony and the Ecstasy), and as a reminder of my commitment to pursuing my creative destiny and unearthing my dormant figure drawing skills...

Then on Boxing Day (a Tuesday :) my new powerbook was born. His name is Pierre (I believe in naming inanimate objects that are important to me), to remind me that I'm going to keep learning French, and he is an investment in my future and my freedom. With Pierre by my side, I'll be able to work from anywhere, leaving geographical decisions to be determined by other more important criteria.

My dearly beloved ibook iSabel, who has been my faithful companion on all my journeys for the past five years, will soon be travelling to her new retirement home where she will be just as dearly loved but will hopefully get more rest.

One for each side of the brain... I'd say together they make a very balanced companion. Never fear -- there is still plenty of room in my life for a real man -- these two are just helping to keep me entertained (and employed) until he gets here. :)

PS: Belle, Angelica and mini-Gaston make up the rest of my digital family (iPod, camera and external hard drive, respectively)

:: "Lord, grant that I may always desire more than I can accomplish." – Michelangelo Buonarrati

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

life in a northern town...

Over the atlantic and through north america, I'm finally home again.

Homer for the holidays... Home in the 49th state, as far west as you can drive on the continent, in my cozy little hometown at the moment all shrouded in snow. It could possibly be the best place in the world to spend Christmas. Too small to be too busy, too few stores to be overrun by consumerism, too cold to draw pesky tourists.

It's an odd place, a dear place and a one-of-a-kind place. A place where almost everybody knows your name (even after six years away) and they definitely all know someone you know. A place where you can wear whatever you want and no one cares about status. A place where you can't tell the mayor from the garbage man, and the postman is also the local theatre star. A town with enough talent to pull off a full-fledged production of the Nutcracker every year that the locals wouldn't miss... A little town with three museums, eight coffee shops, and more art galleries than organized churches.

It's a place that comfortingly never really changes, although every time I come back there's something new and controversial. Last year it was the first and only stoplight – this year a Starbucks has invaded. We'll see how long it takes for the independent coffee roasters to run it out of town. Homer has a history of successfully ejecting fast-food joints – Dairy Queen, Burger King and Pizza Hut all couldn't make it. Only McDonald's and Subway have survived. But Starbucks only snuck it's way in by embedding itself with a grocery store chain. I have mixed feelings – in foreign countries and big US cities Starbucks is something good and familiar, but here it just doesn't belong.

Isn't it cold there? People ask. Well, yes, I suppose. But all the better for staying home wrapped in a cozy bathrobe with hot cocoa by the fire. Isn't it snowy? Well yes, but that's why we have garages and snow machines and woolly mittens. Isn't it dark? Well yes, but all the more reason for everyone to put up Christmas lights. Plus it makes for better viewing of the stars and the aurora borealis...

I love winter, and snow, and Christmas. It's a season that feels like a big warm hug at the end of the year to me -- remembering the greatest gift. It makes me sad to know it's not that feeling for everyone. Someone asked me with a sigh not long ago, "Do you really think there's any Christmases left like the ones in the old movies?" Feeling both sad and incredibly fortunate, I said "yes".

There's no place, no family and no season in life that's perfect. But my December at the end of the road comes pretty close.

It's snowing again...

:: "From quiet homes and first beginning, out to the undiscovered ends, there's nothing worth the wear of winning, but laughter and the love of friends." – Hilaire Belloc

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

in between...

So I'm here... back on American shores again... Not quite home yet and not quite adjusted, but I'm getting there.

Sailing home was the best idea I've had all year. Maybe in five years. As described to my best friend, it was in every way the perfect escape from my reality and at the same time a beautiful echo of the best of my ocean past... The gentlest transition I could have hoped for.

Now I'm moving through cities on my homecoming tour, eyes wide open, bags in fist, absorbing the pace of change and the unchanged. The nothingness that seemed so overwhelming from a distance is surprisingly less frightening up close.

Or maybe I'm just still dreaming...

:: "In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors." – William Blake