I miss you. I miss writing, sharing, watching for events and photos that may please and heighten life’s experience for another. But more than that, I miss what writing does for me. I view life differently when I am searching for words to describe my feelings or for a camera angle that will show what my eye sees. Do I have less to write about because I am having less interesting experiences, or am I having less interesting experiences because I am writing less? I am playing with the idea of the latter and so have been on the lookout for topics and vignettes to tantalize.
I am back to Lenox, MA after spending a month on Long Island directing Shakespeare with young people. It was such wonderful, happy month, learning new skills as a director, establishing old ones with confidence, and being with 2 co-teacher gals that are fun and talented. The school we taught in put us up in a wonderful cottage a half-mile from the ocean and I was in heaven getting to walk on the beach 3-5 times a week. Continue reading
“One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach. One can only collect a few. One moon shell is more impressive than three. There is only one moon in the sky.” (Anne Morrow Lindbergh)
I am in love with this photo. I took it last week on the beach down the street. I have it on my computer desktop, I stare at it, get lost in it and feel so pleased with it. Rarely does that happen with photos that I take. I am not a photographer, I snap pictures with my iPhone to document my life, to please myself. I do not labor over taking a shot, but I just point, shoot and move on. Continue reading
In 2013…I danced with a 75-year-old Norwegian prince in Sun Valley, Idaho; drank beer with a track-hoe driver in Wyoming; exposed a friend to the ridiculous joys of miniature golf in Wisconsin; rode a cowboy’s horse down Main Street one evening in Colorado; watched the waves of the Pacific coast with the ghost of my ancestors; hugged 700 year old redwoods in California; made pancakes over an open fire with my mom and sister; fell in love with, and in, small towns across the states; mourned the loss of John Denver in Aspen; spent a weekend at a most special niece’s wedding in Oregon; hiked deliciously beautiful mountainsides; was treated to meals, drinks, couches, pillows, and connected conversations with so many friends old and new; taught/directed Shakespeare and opened metaphorical doors for kids from 11-18 yrs old in Massachusetts. Life is wonderful and the song playing over and over on my iPod is Jason Mraz’ Life is Wonderful…
The highlights start with time with my girls…
In August I made the acquaintance of trees older than Shakespeare’s words. I went to Redwood National Park in northern California. After a LONG, curvy drive, the experience of standing, looking up at trees 15 feet in diameter and not being able to see to their tops, was unforgettable. The reverence I wanted to give these living creatures consumed my thought. The forest felt sacred, holy, church-like. There was an awe and hush and even the leather-clad, boisterous biker clan that was on the trail couldn’t dispel the magic. There was a family with kids that made me angry though. Continue reading
It’s nice to be back. I am finished with the Fall Festival residency where I co-directed Romeo & Juliet at a high school with a student body of 2200. It was completely frustrating, completely exhausting and completely fulfilling. It is the kind of work I want to do, it makes a difference, it changes people for the good, it creates dreams and possibilities for youth, it gives me a chance to use my creativity and impulses to change the world I am in. It was one of the most difficult and exhausting experiences as well. But I influenced some of the most entrancing, diverse teens I have had the pleasure to come across.
I have been neglectful of my blog for very good reason, but the guilt of leaving you in silence has been weighing on me. I have so many wonderful experiences to share from my last travel escapades, but they will have to wait a bit longer. Continue reading
“What’s the difference between a National Monument and a National Park?” was my first question to the ranger at the Visitor’s Center. Her reply… “A monument is designated by the President and a park is voted in by Congress.” Simple. President Taft established the Colorado National Monument in 1911. It is gorgeous. I was on my way to Moab from Montrose, sadly leaving the cute cowboy behind on the eve of the weekend rodeo. He recommended a visit to the Colorado National Monument, a short veering off the path and it was well worth the leisurely meander. Continue reading
Breckenridge, Colorado. I tried to like it here, but the magic was missing. It is pretty, the town is quaint, but somehow I felt like I stumbled onto the location for “Girls Gone Wild” or some place for a Spring Break binge. Now some of you may be taking notes going, “I want to go there!” But it is not my kind of atmosphere and when a 40-year-old man hit on me and said he wanted to “bang” me, I was not impressed. Does this approach appeal to other women? He was a hot, rich guy, GQ with a backpack, but his raunchy language and his bragging and accusing me of having something wrong with me because I wouldn’t go to his hotel room was not attractive. Continue reading
In my last post I was welcomed to Chautauqua Institute with the bang of the gate descending on my windshield. In Chicago, it was a parking ticket, minus the bang, but still on the windshield. I had parked in what I thought was an unrestricted space, but the next day I had a $60 fine to contend with. I am going to contest it as the spot was not clearly marked. If they expect me to obey the rules, they need to have some sign of visual notification.