Jules is my 13-year-old golden mix I fostered and adopted from Neuse River Golden Retriever Rescue http://www.goldenrescuenc.org/ in 2007 when she was four. She’s an angel of a dog. Here she is taking a walk break under the cherry blossoms.
Flow and Franzia at Bliss Body Yoga
A friend invited me to join her for a fun yoga class at a lovely little yoga studio off Lake Boone Trail. It was my first time at Bliss Body Yoga, and my first yoga class in quite some time. The class was presented as Flow and Franzia. The Franzia is just there for the alliteration. We actually had bottled wine. (Nothing against boxed wine.)
There were eight of us, and our instructor was Jordyn Matthews. Jordyn focused on balancing poses, so we actually tried to hold off on too much wine until after class. Though I’ve only had a couple flow classes ever, downward dog seems a part of any flow class. So it was lots of downward dog, surrounded by lots of plank, several warrior poses, some eagle, some pigeon, several new-to-me poses whose names I can’t recall and one over-backwards pose I didn’t attempt. While challenging, all the poses felt good. Jordyn focused on the community in the studio; the sharing of energy among us.
To that end, she had us place our mats in a circle. Several times, she had us come out of eagle pose by touching hands and connecting the circle, supporting one another. It was a good class. I am grateful to Michelle for the invite. After class, neighboring restaurant The Oak brought over a couple of lovely bites for us. We filled our glasses with wine, took our bites and sat on our yoga mats. Continuing the sense of community Jordyn fostered, we sat, ate, sipped wine and shared stories. Most of the yoga classes I’ve taken over the years have been the traditional quiet in and quiet out with but gentle nods shared among each other. It was lovely to be able to sit a spell and know for a moment the neighbor on the yoga mat next to mine.
Bull City Nihilism
When I was looking for used albums today at Bull City Records, I picked up a new one. Dick Diver was playing and seemed to have a little Lou Reed vibe with his voice and some of the guitar. The dude at Bull City said they were a band out of Australia. This is their third album, but the first one available in the states.
My visit to peruse some vinyl was an effort to connect with myself. We have to keep nurturing our souls with the things we love, like music on vinyl, because when we don’t everything starts to feel blah and empty and then my God we become nihilists or at the least face anhedonia. Then we forget who we are. Where have I been?
And writing. Which is why I’m finally back to my blog. And walking my dog. And oh my, I’m gonna flip over the album and then make me a tomato and onion sandwich and a glass of fresh lemonade. Or maybe I’ll ease into all that purpose and pleasure.
Where have I been?
Blog, blog, where have I been. I abandon you no longer. I am here. I am here.
Pho Pho Pho
My second time at Pho Pho Pho on Glenwood in downtown Raleigh. I recall how healing the Pho Chay Soup felt last time. I need a dose of pick me up and set me right. I’m hoping for the same result this time. The sauces are great, but I get so excited that I make the broth super hot before I realize it.
That’s the healing part though, right!
I didn’t realize that I hadn’t posted a photo of the beautiful reliquary I designed after Reason passed away several years ago with local artist Wendy Pitillo-Rae. It represents how Reason was the stars, the sun and the moon to me — my whole world. The stone is an aquamarine, her birth stone. She was born on the first day of Spring. Some of her hair is under the glass. It was a wonderful experience creating it, and I cherish it.
Itty Bitties are always such happy cupcakes. I see them at Helios on my morning coffee stop. There they sit, all prim and proper under their glass dome of protection, smiling up at me. And they are so friendly.
“Have a great day!”
“You’re a wonderful person.”
“Life is good.”
They were delicious before I even tasted one. But today was the day. I joyously asked barista Hide for one of the chocolate Itty Bitties with vanilla buttercream icing. He removed the lid with gentle precision and invited me to make my selection. I chose the happiest little Itty Bitty on the plate. A daisy dotted the very center.
I saved it for after lunch of course. You can’t have too much fun too early in the day. Every bite was delight, and a wonderful relationship developed. I love you Itty Bitty! =O)
I took my first trip to the new Nasher Museum in Durham. Picasso and the Allure of Language was on exhibit as well as Big Shots: Andy Warhol’s Polaroids. No photography was allowed for the Picasso, but I was able to snap some shots ironically of the Warhol photos and the film that was showing.
As I understand the museum has three films that are being rotated. We were only able to sit in for a short portion of the film, not long enough to even guess… The black and white to the right is the film. Below to the left is a Warhol of one of the museum’s namesake family members. Mrs. Nash met Warhol and commissioned him to paint her and each of her daughters. The polaroid from which the painting was made is displayed alongside.
The museum isn’t quite as much as I had thought it would be, but lovely enough still. I, of course, snagged me the required fridge magnet as part of my Pauper Collection. I think I have one from all my museum visits, with the exception of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. That was long before my magnet collecting days.
How scribbles in sketches and shapes in paintings can translate into images that our brain recognizes amazed me with several of the Picasso works. Forgive me for my simplistic stating of what was so awe inspiring. Some of my favorites were the Illustrations for Lysisrata. From what I read, I think this is referred to as his “classicism.” I’d need to be a much, much more learned art appreciator to comment further. Golly, I could be way off with all my comments. If so, accept my humble apology.
But what fun those two hours were just imagining. That’s part of the purpose in art, isn’t it, even for the non-erudite.