Walk, Don't Run

The firemen think somebody snubbed their cigarette out in the old wood planter box, filled with dirt, but also apparently with peat moss or something that holds in the heat. What apparently sat smoldering for hours went up in flames much much later, 1:00 a.m. to be exact. The firemen showed up along with several neighbors in the small community area we share behind our 4-unit apartment, where we all keep our BBQ’s and the trash barrels, to put out the fire in the box that had burned and charred a good 6-7 boards of the fence that it was next to. It could’ve been much worse.

A few days ago I was sitting at a stop light, where legally we can make a right turn on a red light, that is, if all is clear. I looked to my right, over to my left, and didn’t think to look right again. As I put my foot to the accelerator and lurched forward, I slammed on my break just as quickly. A startled small Hispanic man was just beginning to walk in front of me. He was in the crosswalk with the little lit up man walking on the traffic light. My heart stopped. I waved at him and mouthed the word “sorry” with my face in that kind of scrunched up – “God, my fault, I really messed up-so sorry-" kind of way - he just waved back, put his head down and kept walking.

I drove off with my knees shaking and my head spinning just from the thought of what could have happened more than what had actually happened. The thought that one careless mistake (a cigarette not completely put out, not applying Santa's checking it twice advice) could injure or take the life of someone or many people and change the life of the person who caused this careless mistake forever. One careless mistake, mistakes that we all make on a regular basis. One step we didn’t see as we were descending the staircase, one overlooked stop sign hidden by the branches of a large oak tree, one pot handle we didn’t turn away from the front of the stove only to get bumped by someone passing by, scalding hot water or hot oil, the list and possibilities go on and on.

This isn’t written to depress or look on the dark side of things, it is merely written with the urgency of paying attention. Being present, noticing your surroundings. We are in such a hurry all the time. People texting while they walk, texting while they drive. Would you walk around town with a book in front of your face?  It has been reported lately about the rise of "accidents" involving people who are walking and texting at the same time.  People walking into streetlamps, utility poles, parked cars, other people and even falling down manholes!! We have all seen people reading while they drive, their reading material propped up on the steering wheel, or using their visor or rear view mirror to apply mascara. Things that make talking on a cell phone seem like childs play. Why can’t we just drive anymore. This is not a question, rather a simple plea.

It isn't just the multi-tasking while driving, it is the constant need to be connected.  People dining out with their cell phones placed alongside their place settings "just in case" - always feeling that we can't wait until we are home to make a return phone call to friends, the need to check our social email hourly instead of perhaps once a day, adding new "friends" to our Facebook account for popularity's sake instead of real connections. We can hardly find enough time to call or the hours to spend with our few real friends and now we've added the pressure of communicating with a couple hundred or so more, most that mean very little to us . I trust you get my point.

The two incidents that I have mentioned (the fire and the almost hitting a pedestrian) happened within days of each other during this past week. This to me is a true slap in the face sign. Wake up. Pay attention. Keep focused. Occasionally turn off the phone, occasionally shut down the computer.  Slow down. Eat at the table. Pretty clear isn’t it?

Let's see what's behind Door Number 1

One of my favorite movies is Sliding Doors with Gwyneth Paltrow. For me “favorite” means I can remember the story line, the characters and I’d see it again. In a nutshell, the movie begins with Helen and her boyfriend. Helen leaves for work, he has another woman come over, you can imagine what happens next. Well, the plot then is Helen leaves work early after being fired and from here we see how her life unfolds from two different story lines, one is we see what happens when she misses her train and then again, what happens in her life when she makes her train – two different life paths depending on that simple circumstance which itself was determined by just mere seconds in time. How different her life would be if she would have got home on time (catching the bus) or if she misses the bus and thereby also misses out on finding the truth, which is, her boyfriend is cheating on her. Such an interesting storyline and it really reminds you of how every simple decision you make, action you take, or circumstances that are beyond our control, can change or affect our life in a very profound way. One of the highlights of this movie is the Scottish actor, John Hannah, who is so charming and so hilarious that you instantly or shortly after hearing a few of his lines, fall in love.

John Hannah

In a rather round about way, this all leads me to my new job. Have you ever noticed how life never really makes things simple? There are always choices and with those choices comes that struggle within ourselves of “are we doing the right thing, the best thing", etc. I received two job offers within two days. Both at art galleries. I ended up choosing the one that I thought would be the least stressful, provide the most opportunity to learn, chance to travel and really hone my sales skills. But in my mind I kept playing out what would happen differently if I took the other offer. I thought about the people I will meet (depending on which gallery I will work at) where I will travel, the experiences I will have, the friends and connections I will make and thought about how it will actually make a difference in my life. In my future – I saw my life like the character Helen in Sliding Doors – saw myself walking two entirely different paths and hoping that the one I was choosing would take me into a world of castles, good fairies, friendly talking squirrels, and not into some dark forest with houses made of brightly colored ribbon candy, old women with moles on their overly extended chins, and wolves in sheep’s clothing.

You really do have to think about these things you know. But once you’ve made the choice, you really should stop thinking about the “what ifs” – it doesn’t do anyone any good. So, I made my choice.
choice n. The act of choosing; selection. The power, right, or liberty to choose; option. Again I am reminded that it is me who is responsible for what happens in my own life.  I have the power/right to choose.  Even though I won't know the outcome, I still made the choice.  I guess that is what makes choosing so scary. It is like "door number 1, 2, or 3" - that is a whole lot of pressure!  Our one little life with so many choices, all of them leading to places unknown. Like walking a labyrinth, navigating sharp turns, not being able to see too far ahead, not knowing when you will reach the end and once at the end, what will be waiting.  Labyrinths are said to symbolically reveal two sides of the human spirit: complexity and simplicity; mystery and design; intuition and sensory experience. Interesting.

People say that if you knew what was going to happen in your life, if you could see your future, it might be so terrifying that some would just call it quits, jump off the bridge right now, some would become bored , and perhaps others might try desperately hard to make immediate changes.  All I know is that when presented with a fork in the road, I would be really like to be privy to a preview of what was on each plate.  It would just be so reassuring, so less nail biting. And it would have made life so much easier for Helen and James!

Jack the Rabbit

There is something to be said for these older houses. The fact that they are old makes everything that you wouldn’t tolerate in a new home, not only tolerable, but acceptable. Some call it charming. The interior doors don’t shut tightly, the windows have cracks and the floors squeak with every step you take. But I must say, I do love the hardwood floors. Scratched and stained, swollen in places so that you could almost use them as beginner skateboard ramps, but cleaning these floors is a breeze! All I have to do is open the windows and voila, nature does all the work, gathering these little dust balls in corners and along the baseboard. Then I  simply bend down and pick them up. Actually, the dust bunnies that have gathered here are not so little, less like cute little bunnies and more like scraggly rabid jack rabbits! What one person might call “disgusting” I am calling extremely efficient. I am trying to live with a more “wabi sabi” outlook on life, appreciating imperfection. Finding beauty in what otherwise might be considered only “junk pile” worthy. Not stressing over dust and other unneccesary details.

Meet Jack the Rabbit. Oh please, don't act like you've never found one of these in your house!

Living without many of the “modern conveniences” that many of us have come to expect, to depend on, this house is teaching me to appreciate simplicity. But there are times I find myself yearning for the day I hear that comforting hum of a Bosch dishwasher, the loud grumble of a hungry garbage disposal and the thrill of hearing the A/C click on during these 95+ degree summer days. Hopefully all this charm won’t lose its charm anytime soon.

Most of the house has now been filled with our Craigslist “finds” – though some are not quite what I wanted once I got them home. I have now created a stockpile of used furnishings out in the garage – just waiting for the day I can have a great neighborhood sidewalk sale. We bought a leather sofa because it was a great price, comfortable, and I really liked the 76 year old man we bought it from. He was a retired Master Gardener from Hawaii. The sofa had been purchased in Hilo and for some “Waikiki” reason, made me want to take it home. But, the truth is, I never wanted a leather sofa nor did I want the color brown. I guess I’m a sucker for a charming old man. Now I will either be relisting it on Craigslist, or holding on to it for the day I have more space, maybe even a home office.

 Persian carpet, designer coffee table, my daybed, and Leather   sofa!!!

Dressing up an old wall heater

So basically now the place is feeling like home. Reality has set back in, kicks me in the head and reminds me that I need to find something to do. Not that I haven't been trying.  I still can’t get the coffee house off my mind, still hoping something will happen with that.  I don’t have any real prospects for work on the horizon, but trusting that something “fantastic” will be coming my way. I try and clear my own “dust bunnies” from my head, clear my thoughts and vision, and sit down to make a plan. But the plan making feels forced and unnatural. Not wabi sabi at all. One thing that I have learned in my life, that has proved true for me, is not to trust either your head or your heart. They don't work well together. Trust your gut. It won’t lead you astray. Mine is telling me a few things right now. For starters, I wasn’t put here on this earth to worry about dust balls in the corner, I am not here to do some mundane tasks for another and get a measly amount of compensation that won’t even pay my simple little rent, and that there is something creative and meaningful that I am supposed to be doing. I just have to wait a little longer, try a little harder and bend down and remove those dust balls when they gather.

The "Perfect" Cappuccino

A couple of days ago I was craving a cappuccino – a “real” cappuccino in a large squat mug with foam – a sprinkling of cinnamon on top. I don’t want it in a paper cup with a plastic lid that I bring to my mouth with trepidation, never sure the temperature, and then having that creepy foreign feeling of plastic against my lips. There is something about holding that cup with two hands, gently blowing the heat away, rippling the foam, and sipping from porcelain. There is more of a ceremony to it all. Such a simple but beautiful tradition behind it. I can’t think of anywhere to go in town for that experience. Yes, I am sure, if I went to a nice restaurant for dinner, I would be offered a coffee or espresso afterwards. And there I would get the cup of my dreams, even though the contents would probably leave much to be desired. I want the coffee house experience. I don’t want to sit through the “herb crusted lamb chops with apricot relish” beforehand. Just a simple almond cookie with my espresso would be perfection.

I’ve been thinking a lot about perfection lately and I have been reading up and trying to absorb the concept of “wabi sabi”, the Japanese art of appreciating and finding beauty in “imperfection” – something that of course we all are. There is no perfect, at least in the terms of perfect that we have set for ourselves. There will always be room for improvement and sadly, always room to bash ourselves for things we didn’t do right, for the things we want to do over. And I find all of this guilt giving to be especially abundant when reviewing our parenting skills. Yesterday was Father’s Day and we drove up to Tahoe to spend the day with my Dad. Driving up to my parent’s house I started crying when a Counting Crows song came on. It filled me with such emotion and a sense of sadness that it was almost painful - not sure where it came from. All I could think about was my daughter. And how I wished I could have more “do overs” with her, given her more love when she felt unlovable, more compassion when she was hurting, more giggles and laughter when she was sad, more patience when she was challenging, more of a “family”.  I left the “home” that she had known shortly after she left for college, uprooting her roots. And she wore a brave face, and always told me it was okay, that I was okay, but I know it hurt, and still does.

I wanted her to have that same security and sense of family that I was given. My parents were solid – they both had incredible strengths. My Dad was serious, had high expectations, had a strong work ethic and made sure our life was without many wants. My Mom was a brilliant homemaker, math wiz, had our backs, loved us no matter what, opened her doors to anyone that needed help and loved her family above all else. That we knew. About both of them. They loved us above all else. There was no competition for us – we didn’t have to compete with their careers, friends, personal fulfillment, their own wants and desires. We never did without so that they could take a trip to the Hamptons, a ski trip to Aspen, no new cars, no extravagances. They made sure we had everything we needed first. They still do.

I look at my brother and sisters and in each of us I see different qualities that we took from our parents. My brother was given the gift of independence, determination and a will of steel. I was given the gift of trust and optimism, knowing things turn out okay, a marshmallow safety net. I always knew and still know that I could try anything, and if I failed I would still have that soft place to fall. I can see in my sister Pam that she took away the importance of family, of home, of putting her children before herself. My sister Korri has a deep sense of tradition. She gets that from my Mom. She likes a solid foundation and keeps her family together. She, like my Mom, opens her doors to anyone that needs help. She is a true friend. All four of us share one gift, a family that would and will do anything for each other. When it comes right down to it there isn’t a doubt in my mind that we will all be there, when needed, not out of obligation, but because of love.

If my parent’s have ever questioned, “did they do enough, did they give enough”, they can’t even begin to comprehend that they couldn’t have given us anymore. That their parenting skills, their love and dedication to us and our family, was and is a gift that cannot be improved upon. To me, it is wabi sabi in a porcelain cup.

"Lightly Used"

I haven’t written for a while, with all of this moving, downsizing and reorganizing. It takes some time to settle in. It reminds me of when a dog is trying to settle down for the night or perhaps just a well deserved nap. You know, you’ve seen them when they are trying to settle and they start frantically scratching and circling and scratching and circling some more until finally they seem to have created an accepted space and curl up sweetly and with a deep sigh, fall off to sleep. So it is the same for us, it takes some time to discover the perfect placement of things. Moving things around, to this side of the room and then back again. And there always seems to be so many obstacles to the “perfect placement." A few of those things for example can be large wall heaters, windows, doors, no electrical outlets, less than four walls, and of course that 42" flat screen television that dominates everything else in the room. You might wonder why model homes or magazine shoots (such as Architectural Digest, Coastal Living, Sunset magazine, to name a few) always have the perfect furniture arrangements. There are no TV’s - unless of course it is wall mounted over some stunningly gorgeous fireplace. No remote controls and no signs of real life (shoes left by the sofa, purses slung haphazardly across chairs, mail scattered on the coffee table.) The bedroom nightstands have no Kleenex boxes, water glasses, Chap Stick, cell phones with their chargers or remnants of the nightly purse/pocket clean out. No, what you will see are beautiful linens flanked by beside tables holding nothing more than fresh flowers, a reading lamp and possibly a good book.

But all of this is neither here nor there. Along with trying to achieve a balanced placement of items, there is the acquiring of items that seems to have become more challenging than I had first imagined. I thought it would be pretty simple to replace a washer/dryer, kitchen table, couch, chair, desk chair, etc. Okay, well the washer and dryer were simple enough. It turns out that it might be the loudest washer/dryer ever made, but hey, they work and the owner delivered them. Can’t get a sweeter deal than that. We have made some good buys through Craigslist and then again, we have had our share of “false advertising”, like the original oil painting that we drove to San Francisco to see, only to find it to be a framed print from Z-Gallerie. What a waste of bridge toll! Or the "Stager's Inventory Sale that really was just old Aunt Agatha's house full of garage sale finds, or the infamous "lightly" or "gently" used furniture that comes complete with torn fabric, missing nuts and bolts and broken legs. And going to San Francisco to purchase items from people’s residences isn’t the easiest of feats. Everyone seems to live on the 3rd or 4th floor, there is never any parking close by and there is always that thought in the back of your mind, “please God, don’t let this be the wacko I’ve heard about on the evening news”. Even though I really doubt I would be killed over a coffee table. Now a diamond ring, that’s another story.

Tomorrow we are looking at chairs and a kitchen table in Santa Rosa. Looks like a cute little set. The only problem – once again – how do I fit this in my car? Strapping the table to the top of my small SUV doesn’t seem practical but I guess it’s better than renting a truck or a hauling service. Remember when we were moving to Portland and planned to use the company “Two Hunks and a Truck?” Well now I found someone who delivers Craigslists purchases, called “A Man with a Van” – amazing, isn’t it? No matter what you need, you can find it.  So if all else fails, or we can't quite get the table tied down securely, "the Man" will be getting a call from me.

I believe that once I have acquired all of the home furnishings and adornments I feel necessary to make my space feel somewhat “complete” I could write a small book about my Craigslist adventures. The people that we have met have never failed to surprise me.  Sometimes that surprise is like “Oh, I love it, you shouldn’t have!” Feel good surprise, and sometimes it is more like, “OMG, how old is that milk I just guzzled right out of the carton??”  But one thing I really like is that everything comes with a story. And being a Feng Shui practitioner, everything has a heart and everyone has a story.  Some are worth hearing and other's can put you to sleep.  It's uncanny how you can get a positive or negative reaction almost immediately upon seeing the home, meeting the people, and seeing the actual item.  There has to be some kind of connection to all three.  When bringing something "used" back home it has to come with a pretty postive story.  And positive stories almost always include a very happy ending.

Showering with Spiders

I can’t do it. This is the third consecutive morning that I have jumped into the shower, only to find a spider has already beat me to it. I don’t want to kill him, but I am now naked and not in the mood to get out of the shower, get dressed, scoop him up on a piece of paper, walk through the house and let him outside. This is my sister Pam’s job. And she is not here. So, I have to kill him. Which is hard for me especially when I am really trying to embrace that “love all living things, all sentient beings” – but how can I love creepy spiders, who sometimes bite me, the same way I could love, oh lets say, a golden retriever puppy who only nibbles on my hand?

It is one of those things that might take me two or two hundred more lifetimes to master. I have always heard that we fear the things we don’t understand. That all we have to do is learn about this “thing”, whether it is a scary animal, insect, creature, or even another culture of lifestyle. I have tried learning about spiders, and I do admit, they are amazing. Hard little workers, always having their magical webs destroyed by us giant assassins. I’m trying hard to love you little guys.

But the beauty is that I had writer’s block until I saw that third spider this morning, he was my inspiration to write today. Up until his untimely death I really didn’t have much to say but I felt like it was time for a blog. Just the sound of the word “blog” makes me feel lethargic and empty headed. But in reality, my head is so full that it is starting to ache.

This morning the County Planning Department will present our coffee kiosk proposal at their weekly meeting. Keeping my fingers crossed. It seems as though now we at least have a few people willing to go to bat for us and with just that little bit of support the whole idea feels a bit more promising. They plan to present my written proposal to the Planning Commission along with other county agencies at the meeting today, like the Health Department, Public Works and the list goes on and on. So hopefully I will hear some good news by this afternoon and then it is on to my Friday morning meeting with the owner of the winery. We will see what the week will bring.

Another positive, I will be moving into a new apartment on the 15th. I actually had the choice of the charming apartment in St. Helena or the retro flat in Napa. I went with Napa. The location is much more central, easier to get to Marin or to I-80, and if you know me, you know that I am in my car, a lot. So it just made sense to stay in Napa. It will only have been a month and a half since I packed up all of my things and put them in storage and yet I feel so excited to unpack it all, an early Christmas!

The timing is great too – I can get all moved in and then put all of my energy and focus on Artistry Coffee. The original name was Artistry Café, but now since there is no café, I guess we will substitute the word Coffee or Espresso. My plan is still to grow out of that location and end up in some really cool spot downtown, where we can actually have a café, music, art, poetry readings, and all that goes along with a coffee house. But like a baby learning to walk, there are a lot of stumbles and falls and a lot of bumped chins on the coffee table. Patience. That’s the name of the game.

I am also working the San Francisco Art Fair in San Francisco the weekend of May 23rd. http://www.sffineartfair.com/ This will be an amazing event – there will be over $300 million in art,  500 artists represented from 70+ worldwide renowned galleries and the works will be available for viewing and purchase. Should be quite an experience. I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures and post them after the event. If they allow cameras.

So lots going on and and I feel a bit like the children’s nursery rhyme, “round and round she goes, where she stops, nobody knows.” But there is one thing I know for sure. Spiders like showers as much as the next guy.

"You eat here because we let you" - Stepping Stone Cafe

Back from another “search and rescue” trip to Portland. Looking for that perfect coffee house only to find that perfect might not exist. At least not to my less than wabi sabi accepting mind.

The first place, the one we actually drove up to see, was in an old house in a very hip neighborhood. Maybe that is the problem. I am beginning to realize I am not hip – as much as it pains me to say it. Portland’s motto is “Keep Portland Weird.” I admire originality, creativity, standing out from the crowd, but sometimes when you are trying to keep something one way all you do is create a lot of the same. Don’t get me wrong – I love that Portland has something for everyone and that they give everyone a chance to try. You can make it in Portland I believe if you have a good product, a lot of determination and strong spirit.

But anyway, forgive my rambling, the first place needs a lot of TLC, paint, a kitchen remodel, a backyard of mud that needs to be landscaped and it looks as if the landlord of the building has no intention or desire to help out with that. Well that just makes bad business sense. I’m not going to fix up your building so that you can lease it to someone else. The owner of the actual coffee house business was sweet, but already wanting out in less than one year makes you a tad skeptical. The second place was a bit south of Portland in a strip mall. No character, no personality even though the owner has obviously tried. She tells us that she is back to year one earnings (meaning nothing) after running the place for five years. She has a family emergency and has to be out of there by June 1. So, the area was not where I’d want to be and she sure didn’t paint a pretty picture for us. The third place I actually like – I have been talking to the owner for the past year. She has a successful little coffee house, and I do mean little. It might be 300 sq ft and she wants $50k for it. The place seats 8 and there is no room for growth. So, what you see is what you get. More money than I was hoping to put out but maybe we can work something out. She is not in a hurry, she actually likes what she is doing, having a good time, and that in itself is a strong selling point for me.

So back to reality. Having just had a birthday last week and renewing my driver’s license, it was here waiting for me when I got home. My photo looks like one of those celebrity DUI mug shots, with droopy jowls and all. "OMG, is that what she really looks like?!" We ate like the people you see at a “Homestyle Buffet anywhere USA” while in Portland and now I am ready to get back on track, eat right, and with good intentions, vow to be healthier by this time next year and to smile in my next DMV photo. But one thing for sure, Portland is pure delight for your taste buds – everything you want you can find. One of my favorite places to visit is "The Tao of Tea" on Belmont.  Their 500 mile Chai is incredible, especially when you pair it with their flatbread with honey, dates and toasted coconut.  http://www.taooftea.com/  I do have to recommend a little place we went to for breakfast on my birthday. It is called the Stepping Stone Café and they were featured on the food network at one time, I think they were on “Man vs. Food”. When you first get seated and start looking around you get a little bothered by the “grunginess” of the place, but very quickly you don’t care. The people running the place are young, funny and, I have to say it, very hip. For example, the plaque outside the front door reads “Beware of Attack Waitress” while inside there is a sign that says “Chewing gum available – under tabletops and chairs” – I mean that is pretty funny! But the food – they are known for their huge mancakes ($3.50) that can feed four people. I ordered one and only got through a quarter of it. It was great. Definitely visit the place if you get a chance. http://www.steppingstonecafe.com/ And of course a trip to Portland wouldn’t be complete without a trip or two to Voodoo Doughnut. No false advertising here, when they say they have an apple fritter the size of your head, they have an apple fritter the size of your head.

Mom - thanks for the birthday card - it made me cry!!!!  Love you.  Olivia & Bryan, thanks for spending my birthday with me - I love you both!!!!