Twice in one week, I have been driven via golf cart directly to my vehicle at the end of the night, instead of my just walking the half mile (or more), as I was entirely willing to do, and it both times made me feel a little bit like a princess.
🙂
Post-a-day 2018
After brunch today, we went to the Cherryhurst House in Houston for its current in-house exhibit by Dan Havel and Dean Ruck. It is called “Ripple”, and it is wonderful. I spoke with Dean Ruck while inside the exhibit/house (you’ll see what I mean in a minute), and learned a bit about how his day job provides him ample knowledge on how to take on such a task safely and successfully. When I first entered the house, I felt instantly that it was just like the vortex-y black-hole-sucking-itself-inward house I had seen years and years ago on Montrose Boulevard in Houston, though also totally different. (Obviously, that was my own description of it. The project was apparently called “Inversion”. Very appropriately named, of course.) I found out that, of course, the same artists had done that project as well as this one.
Anyway, the one today, Ripple, was great. Go. See. It. !!!!
And there was even real quiche to enjoy as part of the opening celebration of the exhibit, which, alongside the perfect-volumed music and delicious beverages, made really quite stupendous slightly rainy afternoon.
How’d you like to walk in to this through the front door of a house?
(Well, you can right now! Go check it out with an easy reservation at Cherryhurst House. Seriously. It’s well worth the visit.)
A few views within the house, though the bottom left is a photo I took through a hole in the wall, while standing outside the house.
P.S. I guess it was all the woodwork we had seen, but my mom and I called up my cousin (as she followed us in her own car) on the way home from the exhibit, so she could participate on speaker phone with our sing-a-long to “Heaven on Their Minds” from Jesus Christ Superstar. He specifically references Jesus’s possible future of being a carpenter, the point at saying which is one of the best parts of the song musically.
Post-a-day 2018
I did it. I accomplished exactly what I’d wanted for today (and then some), and I cleaned out and cleared out that big box and its last 8%. And as nervous as I might have been about doing that – trust me, this getting rid of things I’ve had forever and resisted getting rid of for at least a decade has been an incredible strain on me. I mean, having all this stuff, exactly how it has been stored (a total mess), has been a huge part of my identity. I guess it was a big part of myself of which I wasn’t really proud, but that doesn’t make it any easier to clean it up and let it all go. I’ve never done anything so intense for myself as I am doing right now. (Not actively, anyway… Japan was tough, but I wasn’t actively seeking out all of that. I had no idea what was in store for me when I signed on for that job.)
That being said, I find that I’m almost more concerned about tomorrow’s events than any of this cleaning up and out stuff. I’m going to a sort of luncheon for people in the Texas and Oklahoma area who returned this past year from the same program in which I participated, the returnees. Something about it kind of terrifies me.
And I’m really not sure what it is…
Anyway, I’m going to do my meditation and painting I had planned for tonight. Sweet dreams, this half of the world (and good morning and afternoon to the other half). 🙂
Post-a-day 2018
It never ceases to amaze me how memory works. I regularly wonder at what point the brain moves a piece of information to the far-back storage area; the one that needs only a brief review class for it all to come flooding back into the immediately-retrievable information area of the brain again. How long of not using the information does the brain let it sit up front, before sending the information to the middle ground and then finally to the back storage grounds?
You see, the summer after my first year in college, I did an internship (paid, of course, and sponsored by Shell) with a park conservancy. I had no background in trees and plants, but I told my eventual boss how I was genuinely interested in them and learning more about them. And so began my adventure of studying, researching, and identifying and plotting trees in a local park. My co-intern and I really took the studying to heart, and we would look up the most detailed pieces of information regarding tree identification for our area – fun fact: she wasn’t even from the south, but she learned all about our plants and trees, anyway. Sometimes, we’d learn distinctions that couldn’t even be found in some tree identification books, they were so specific and unique. We would discuss thoroughly what we though a tree was, based on the bud beginnings that were visible on the tree, and then have our boss verify for us what it was. And we loved it all.
By the end of the internship, we could walk around the park and identify any tree around us, almost immediately (there were a couple that had only a tiny difference, and so we had to check for a hint of color underneath the leaves in order to tell which was which). I enjoyed greeting the trees by their species names. Hey, Live Oak. How are you doing today? I’m really happy to see you here. I hope you stay around for years and years to come. Wherever I went in the area (Houston/Southeast Texas), I identified what trees crossed my path, and I enjoyed it. Riding my bike home from work was like a scavenger hunt of What kinds of trees can I find today? My brother and sister-in-law would send me photos, asking me to help them identify trees in Wisconsin. I didn’t know most of the trees, but I knew what parts I needed to see in order to find the trees in tree logs, and I got to work once I had the needed photos. It was fun for me, and I did far more than was necessary in terms of identifying trees.
Now to this afternoon.
I found myself just staring at these buds. It was cold out, but I didn’t seem to care for a couple minutes. I didn’t even seem to care about the conversation in which I had been participating. I walked right up to these buds and just admired them. It felt as though I was waiting for a name to come to mind, so I could finish the mental thought of Hello, … But I knew I didn’t know the name that went with these buds. I eyed the buds, but somehow didn’t dare examine them properly, look for things I once sought out for identification purposes – I didn’t want yet another verification of the fact that I’d forgotten almost everything, even though they weren’t necessarily buds for a tree (I know that sounds crazy, but it is totally possible. Trust me.).
I know that, if I only had a brief refresher, I’d be good again on all the identifications. I still recognize so many of the trees, without even trying to do so… I just have no more names. I remember only four names, and can only really identify two of them perfectly (Live Oak and Chinese Tallow) – I think they might have been the first two I ever remembered, so they were kind of special for me… plus, they’re kind of everywhere in the Houston area, which is probably why I learned them first.
Anyway… memory is interesting, and today it had me a little on the mellow side of nostalgic, wishing I still could identify trees effectively, even though I can’t quite tell why it ever would matter, my being able to identify trees.
Post-a-day 2018
I started ukulele lessons today. It also included a reunion and a brief lesson on Hawaiian, the language, which were both a fabulous bonus.
I’ve always had a sort of passive affinity for Hawaiian culture – that wonderful island life, about which I knew almost nothing. I was almost afraid to go to Hawaiʻi, for fear of finding that the wonderful world I’d imagined was no longer in existence. After living in Japan, even being in the countryside, I have learned the sort of balance that likely exists in the culture today. It is like cowboys in Texas. We have our big buildings and fancy cars and billboards, but you can still find, here and there, the true tradition. Sometimes, it is only seen in ceremonies. And sometimes it is part of someone’s everyday life.
My brother, though he rides and owns no horses, spends his days working on his land. Physical labor in jeans and surrounded by grass, trees, and animals is his life most days. And he grew up in the city. There are plenty of others who grew up living his kind of life, and who still do the ranching on horseback. Inside our city limits, no one would guess that that kind of life is just beyond our little area. The average person wouldn’t even cross it knowingly, if he went driving outside the city, either. You have to know how to find it. And that’s just how Japan was… When I think of Hawaiʻi now, that’s how I imagine it must be to a certain degree.
Anyway, ukulele is fun. I started it back in Japan, because I was lonely and didn’t have music in my life. Plus, Hawaiian culture seemed to be prominent in Japan (the reasons for which I hadn’t understood at first), so ukulele seemed an appropriate way to bring music into my life while in Japan. I even took a few hula lessons. (Yes, they were awesome.)
Actually, what really spawned my desire to learn hula and ukulele – not just the casual interest with which I first bought the ukulele, but the real desire that got me into lessons for hula and then, finally, for ukulele now – was a film. It was based in Hawaiʻi, and the caucasian daughter, maybe about 14 years old (I forget), did hula. The way she moved her arms in the dance had me gazing, melting, it was just so beautiful to me. Watching her dance, I had something happen within me. I guess, because she was not Japanese or Hawaiian, but like me went through me head… I was able to see hula differently. It was, at last, something that it was acceptable for me to do.
I had seen Japanese friends perform wonderfully, and plenty of other Japanese women I don’t even know, too. But their close ties to Hawaiʻi made it okay for them to do it. It was regular and standard for them to be doing hula. But what – it isn’t “right”, but something like that, “reason” perhaps – reason does a German-heritage girl from Texas have for doing hula, without an extreme, intense love for it?
Maybe this is just my own brain that had me stuck in this thought process, but it just didn’t make enough sense to me to feel comfortable with pursuing hula. It felt to me like visiting a religious building for a region to which one does not belong and about which one knows very little. It isn’t that the person is not allowed. Not at all. It is just that the person can feel a little lost and uncertain when visiting, and so it can be difficult to visit in the first place, without having a sort of invitation. That’s kind of how I felt about hula.
And that movie helped alter that for me. I started attending hula classes whenever I could, and began somewhat seeking out a ukulele teacher.
Eventually, nude in a hot spring bath in the mountains, I found one. And now, almost a year later, we finally are in the same country and with the same currency (that was the issue before), so we can do lessons. We aren’t anywhere near one another, of course, because I’m in Texas and she’s in Hawaiʻi, but it’s going well so far. Playing together is a bit weird, because of the lag, but I’ve worked with it for years with other things, so I’m somewhat accustomed to being slightly ahead of the beat and to hearing the clash of notes and timing, so that it sounds good on the other side. All-in-all, it was fun, and I look forward to the next lesson next week. 😀
So, go listen to a ukulele song today, and think of me, yeah? 😉
P.S. Icicles were crashing outside my window during our lesson today. And this is Houston. How cool is that?! Or warming, I guess…
Post-a-day 2018
Three and a half thoughts:
1. I spent my afternoon today opening and sorting boxes from Japan. I finally have the much-needed winter clothing I’ve been wanting the past month and a half. Good thing it was almost warm today.
2. I was happily surprised that almost everything I brought back was totally practical and useful and something I really like. I was worried that I wouldn’t like loads of it all.
3. It’s interesting to me how Japan no longer feels like a sort of adventure. It actually surprises me when people have big reactions to the fact that I was there, living there. It feels the same as saying that I buy vegetables at the grocery store – it’s just something simple and everyday. I lived in Japan… and so do millions of other people. I know that it isn’t the regular deal for people around here; I’m clear on that. I just mean that it feels so not special to me specifically. It almost feels more unique that I floss my teeth every day (sometimes more than once a day), than that I lived in Japan. I guess it’s just old news for me now. So does that mean I need some new news, then, if only for myself?
1/2. Wait until you see the tubs of kimono that I have…! (Doesn’t that sound like ice cream or something?) 😛
Post-a-day 2018
Okay, please exclude February 29th from existence for this reading and any further conversation on the topic. Kay, thanks. 😉
……………………………………………
Thus ends the longest year of my life. It began in Tokyo, Japan and ended in Houston, Texas, thereby making it 13 hours longer than any regular year in my life. Last year, 2016, was the shortest year of my life by 13 hours, because it was reversed: It began in Houston, Texas and ended in Tokyo, Japan.
Before this year, my shortest year had been 2012, beginning in Houston and ending in Vienna, Austria, making it 7 hours shorter than usual, and making 2013, which ended in Houston, 7 hours longer than usual. Those years are now in second place for the shortest and longest years of my life.
Fun, huh? 😛
When I was little, I made several lists of things I wanted to do in my life. I remember writing into one at some point that I wanted to live the longest and shortest year possible one day. That means spending one December 31-January 1 in the first time zone, the following in the last time zone, and then the third in the first time zone again. I now actually have friends in both locations, so it is totally possible. Let’s see if I can pull it off, shall we?
…………………………………………..
Just to drive me nuts, these had to clash with leap years, instead of working with them. I’ll get there some day, I imagine. I’ve gotten so close without even putting forth a conscious effort already. I can only imagine what I’ll pull off in the future. And I know it will begin with the January first of a leap year, whenever it happens. 🙂
Post-a-day 2017
We went to the Oscar de la Renta exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts today. Inside the exhibit, a display said that Oscar de la Renta deigned his clothes so that they would inspire women. I certainly was inspired looking at the outfits alone – I was filled with some kind of hope, delight. And now, afterward, I want, more than ever, to make my own clothes. And I want to have a cape on at least one dress. If he did it, then I definitely am allowed to do it, right? I want capes and cloaks.
Post-a-day 2017
I tried out the ninja gym again today. My brother is again in town, and one of our stepbrothers came with us to the gym to check it out. Apparently, my brother hadn’t even really considered going while he was in town this time, because of his trip being about family time and all, but he was glad that I came up with the idea, and that we turned it into family time after all.
Really, though, I didn’t just come up with the idea. I’ve been exercising specifically to help myself be able to go to the ninja gym with him the next time he was in town. I’ve slipped off the goal exercise dramatically the past two-ish weeks, but I still have done way more exercise than I was doing the first time we went together.
Now, since my brother wasn’t planning to go, he didn’t have his special shoes with him. They’re these special parkour shoes that were apparently ranked as the parkour shoe to have, but that aren’t made anymore. The soles of the shoes look like they have a car tire pasted onto them. I call them his cheater shoes (lightheartedly, of course). So, he had to be with us mere mortals today without his special shoes. (We both were laughing about it throughout the gym time.)
Our stepbrother got to nerd out with my brother in a way that made me just want to watch the two of them. They had a good time trying the different obstacles together, and they were a good matchup for it. Whatever one could do well, the other only mediocrely, and vice versa. So they got to help one another figure out things, and work through it all.
As for me, I brought my gloves, muscles, and endurance, and went for it. I didn’t attempt everything they did, for sure, but I gave a lot of things a good go. I watched for a bit to start, and then went and ran on a treadmill for a quarter mile to warm myself (it was cold today, even inside the gym). I tested obstacles I’d failed doing before, as well as loads of new ones for me, and made it through almost none. I had a really good time doing it all. My goal was not to succeed in the specific obstacles, but to attempt them, to have the ability to do something with them. I was still terrified of various things, and so still haven’t done any lâchés, but I actually got up on a bar, swung around a bit, and even considered going for the jump. I even tried a swing and jump on a ring-style lâché. I almost got it, too, but my fear got the better of me. (I actually was worried that I’d flung the ring across the room when I missed, because I was so immediately focused on landing safely, but it had only flown and landed about two feet in front of me.
So, I still had tons of fear present, and I worked through some of it anyway, and I had a great time. I can tell that this kind of thing is really a process with me, for various reasons, and I accept that. It doesn’t mean that I’m giving up on it, not at all. It is just that I have to keep making new efforts and new goals, always with the plan of going to the gym again with likely very little notice. I definitely have a goal for myself with this kind of gym. No, it is not to be like the other guys doing all the obstacles in it. Not in the least. But there are certain specific motions, movements, and obstacles I can envision myself doing… that is where I want to be with my fitness and my confidence and this gym. That’s what guides me forward in this endeavor. (Even when I have other stigmas that hold me back from my goal fitness.)
All-in-all, I had a great go my second time at the ninja gym today, and my family is still awesome – notice how we so easily turned fun exercise into family time.
Post-a-day 2017
This evening, by a wonderful unfolding of events, I ended up having tea with my best friend’s little sister. As my best friend’s little sister, she holds a sweet spot in my heart. What’s more, the fact that she’s the first person I’ve seen go from little kid, singing nursery-rhyme-type songs, to a mature young adult (and soon full-blown adult), makes that spot even sweeter.
As we sat in the tapioca teahouse, drinking our warm (Taiwanese style, I think – at least, that’s what a friend of mine saw constantly while in Taiwan, and which we haven’t seen much elsewhere) bubble tea, our attention somehow turned to the menu on the wall. Naturally, we hadn’t thought anything special of it when we actually were looking at the menu to order earlier on, but it was suddenly relevant to our conversation, so our attention turned to it. She is studying Mandarin this year (since August), and I’ve just moved here from Japan. So, we have some common ground on understanding Chinese characters. (For those who don’t know, Japanese kind of stole the characters from Chinese, and adapted them a bit, so loads of them look exactly or almost exactly the same and have the same or very similar meanings.)
We joyfully pointed out that “ice” was on the end of each name in the ‘Snowy Drink’ category, and that “little” was next to one other character on the “Snacks” sections – likely ‘little meal’ or ‘little food’. Something like that. And then we discussed how we were scouring the menu, picking out little pieces that we understood. It was like a fun little puzzle that we were putting together, piece by piece… one that we know will take months, even years, but the timing of which doesn’t seem to bother us in the slightest. We’re just excited that we’re able to make the little sense of it all that we already can. And we aren’t even using the same language to do it, technically, making it simultaneously that much sillier and that much more awesome.
So, we got to enjoy one another’s company and be nerdy language-lovers together, while sipping warm asian versions of English tea (Earl Grey) on a cold, cold night (for Houston, anyway). Blessings abound when open our minds and schedules to them, it seems. And I am grateful for this one in particular. 🙂
Post-a-day 2017
hannah ananas 