Gathering Inspiration

Happy Birthday John... and me

Yesterday was our 40th and our first birthday apart.

A deep calling and need for soiltude and I found it walking Grace Cathedral's Labrynth in San Francisco. Entering its meandering path was met with emotional sadness, to go back into the memories of loss and separation. The center felt timeless where I paused, for a long while. Then, my first step, of coming out of it, much like my entry into this world—first born, but without John. Ironic to think that he was born all black and blue, from me kicking my way out. Foretelling? I wonder. I paused more, along the way... realizing it is time to move forward into this different being, me and as one. I am me, yet will always be a part of him.

Today, again in solitude, I heard the cry of a hawk. Not a kestrel, but above, in the skies over me were a pair of red tails circling and crying out: "Happy Birthday Julia". Thank you John... for being my twin brother, and celebrating this life with me. I'll always love you. See you on the other side one day.

Time heals, love grows.

I am a believer in the mystery of life.
Where one cannot find the will to succeed and another can?
My friend has been time.
Time to ease into routine, fall back in line
and also to take a step backwards and allow myself tender tears.

A few nights ago, July 25th, as I lay in bed, aware of that moment between alertness and the abyss of sleep, I had a vision. I could see my brother John, as clear as day. His gaze looked away, but strongly in view of me. He was smiling. His eyes relaxed, genuine reflections of a peaceful joy. No words, only the vision and my sense of how he felt. He was content. I held that vision for a while, filled my heart, and drifted to sleep.

The next day, (yes, you know what is to come, especially if you read the previous post on my need/ability for matching clues to my life's experiences), I found out that my friend Angela (aka: Napa Wildlife Raptor Rescuer) had gotten a call about an adolescent female Kestrel that was found. A third one in a matter of months, and so late in the season. Even Angela is amazed, my raptor expert! I have a thing for Kestrels. John yet again played his charming tricks with me, sending a kestrel again—a devilish brother, yes he is—and a smiling one. This time, it was a female kestral, like the one he found and I rescued from him when we were young.

I haven't seen her yet, hoping to tomorrow.
But here's a few snapshots of her.
What would we ever do without our smartphones?

Thank you John.

Falco Spaverius: In Spiritu et Veritate

Kestrels (falco spaverius) are one of my most beloved and favorite of birds.

They are the smallest member of the falcon family and are found throughout the Americas. Like all birds of prey, they are strongly connected to the accuracy of movement. Their most prominent features are speed and grace in hunting. They perch high above their prey and when the time is right they swoop down, hover in the air and attack. Amongst most birds, hovering is uncommon. This represents the natural skill these small falcons have — to use flight to the maximum advantage.*

How is it that I know about them? Well, one had chosen my backyard in Chicago, back in the Spring/Summer of 1984. I was about 11 or 12. I had noticed that my devilish twin brother John, was having way too much fun with the hose. I was curious so I decided to investigate. I think he joked and said something like "look at that dumb pigeon, he's just taking it!" all the while spraying it and all its feathers wet with the hose. I looked and immediately knew it was no pigeon. It was brown, with black flecks in it's chest and wings, dark crown, Cleopatra-like markings on the sides of its eyes, a beautiful hooked beak and long talons for a dove-sized bird. I realized quickly it was a young bird of prey, and immediately yelled at John to stop because he was hosing down some form of hawk. Thankfully he listened, looked again, dropped the hose and left. When I went up to the bird, I looked at it and it returned its stare at me with intense dark eyes, unusually calm considering what it went through. I found a worm, held it up to its beak, but nothing. Not interested. I wondered, would it feel comfortable enough to jump on my hand? So, I held out my right hand to it, index finger pointing long, thumb away for clearance. And yes, it jumped onto my hand. From that moment on, I knew he/she felt comfortable enough with me, or it at least knew that when I showed up, the blast of water stopped and I was somehow connected to that. What I later found out was it was an American kestrel, a female because it was primarily brown. An adolescent still, it probably got tired from flying with new wings and on an empty stomach. It looked thin. My initial guess was that it was a young peregrine falcon due to similar markings on the side of its face, but was told by the wildlife rescue folks who came the next day that this was a frequent mistake. Back then, I only had one resource to measure my guess/research — the encyclopedia, so I didn't feel too bad, happy to know the exact species. Nonetheless, she and I bonded. She never bit me, and I was immediately drawn to her graceful beauty, her fierce eyes and need for inevitable freedom. She was picked up the next day and checked out to be healthy. As far as I know, she was released back into the prairie farmlands of Illinois and Wisconsin.

Kestrels gifts include accuracy of movement, speed and grace, mental concentration, acting at the correct moment, patience and precise action.*

The call came late in the evening, several, 6/4/2011. When the caller doesn't quit trying and you are in bed sleeping, it's a first warning. I picked up my phone. Seven calls made by my mom, one from my nephew. Something was wrong. Brace yourself. Then I heard it.

I think your brother is dead.

I hear a radio dispatcher in the background. Is the police there? Let me talk to him.

I'm sorry, he was already gone when he was found.

Silence.

He did it. He finally did it. Third try, and he did it. Fuck. And Johnny found him? His son? Fuck. Crap. My mom tried to give him CPR? Shock is settling in us all. I know. But when the reality of this hits, what will follow?

My twin brother committed suicide. His third attempt and succeeded. The other 2 times, he was lucky (at least to his loved ones), he was  unsuccessful. But he finally did it. Shock. Bitterness. Disbelief. Anger. Be strong Julia, the family needs you.

In kestrel people this advantage shows through the strengthening of ones intuitive agility. Kestrel people frequently have the urge to sit or be placed in a position with expansive views. They have a strong desire to spend time alone, and need to feel a sense of independency to keep a relationship healthy. Suited well to any kind of work that entails planning, they also make great diplomats and strategists. *

I flew out the next evening to be back in Chicago. Monday morning, family meeting. Discuss what needs to happen among his children, his ex-wife and my mother. We have consensus on what needs to happen. I start making calls: medical exam department, John's psychiatrist, hospital, funeral homes. Within 2 hours, I've secured the information I needed and we were on our way to a selected funeral home. Tuesday morning. Burial and cemetery details are secured as well. Remaining was service planning. My niece and I worked quickly to provide a final draft of scriptures, eulogy, memories and photo of John to the reverend conducting the services. Funeral services and burial was scheduled for 1pm Thursday. The last person I was giving any thought to was myself, trying to be the one to hold it all together and keep the calm in the family when possible. But, what I learned most definitely is everyone processes death differently, and I could do only so much.

Reality hits when an open casket is allowed towards the end of the service and that's when I see John. It's been a while. Too long. Stupid disagreements, arguments and an estranged wedge had gotten lodged between us. Had I known that wedge would also cut me off from my twin, I would have, could have, should have….. yes, guilt starts to set in. I break. My heart breaks.

Kestrel shows how to discover ones personal rhythm and act accordingly. As ones personal energy field is increased and broader vision is developed, one learns when to act and when not to.*

The anger, guilt, bitterness, disbelief are gone. In it's place come the waves of sadness, numbness and difficulty of clear mindedness. There is something about twins. It's true. While we weren't identical—he was boy and I, girl—we still had experiences only twins could possibly know of. Where one chips a tooth and the other does the same a week later; sputtering the same exact phrase much more frequently than the best of friends; or just having a sense, knowing what each other is feeling. My rhythm is off. I go, then stop, a lot. It's hard to know what to do first or where to pick up. It started the week before his death. I felt fatigue unusual for me, a very deep form of fatigue. I thought I was just over doing it as usual. The day of his death, I cancelled out on plans for an outdoor concert experience in Sonoma because I felt off. The weather didn't help. It had been raining all day. There goes $170 down the drain, but I just didn't feel like going. In bed by 8:30pm. And that is when a few hours later, I get the calls.

There have been signs, symbols happening, which I can't explain. They scare me but also give me great comfort. I've listed them.

1) The week leading up to John's death: Two mourning doves were hanging around our driveway area for the week for the first time. Even my neighbor who shares a drivewaywith us noticed. One of them kept flying out of one of the large planters every time I opened the front door. I think, That's sweet and all, but are you sure you want to cozy up there?

2) I arrive in Chicago 1am, Monday. I find out that Mama dove has laid 1 egg. We hadn't realized, but she had built a nest.

3) Morning of the funeral. As I got ready, I noticed something on the floor of the bathroom. The bathroom I had intensely cleaned from floor to ceiling because it was the bathroom he was found in. Who dropped something and didn't pick it up! I bent down, looked closer. It was a fallen bird, fake, dove-like. I look up. It fell from a small basket of nylon flowers sitting on the window ledge. I picked it up. An egg back home, a fallen bird here. John, are you saying goodbye? I decided in that moment to put it in his hand at the service. I did.

4) After the service. Tears. They had to come out. I needed to be alone. I walked. It's cold and wet outside from the rains. I find a park bench and sit, enclosed by bushes. I get a text. Mama dove has laid a second egg. There's that 2 thing again. Twins. More tears.

5) Saturday afternoon. Waiting in line at the airport. Another text. 2 baby kestrels were found earlier in the week back in Napa, and one on the day of my brother's funeral. They were brought in to my friend who rescues raptors for Napa county. She never has received a baby kestrel ever, let alone two, so this was just as special for her. She knows I love kestrels. She remembers why. My Chicago story with my brother. She says when they are old enough I can release them back into the wild. I'm touched.

Friday, 6/24/11. I went to see the kestrels, since I would be releasing them in 2 days. My wildlife friend gets an emergency call to get baby raccoons, so she has to leave, but I and my 5 year old son can go into the flight cage and see them. They will just fly around us, she says, so you can go in. We do that. I see one perched above, and then flying back and forth, annoyed that we entered his area. Where's the other one? Then I look down. My heart sinks. The other kestrel is on the ground, mouth partly open, barely breathing. It's wings skewed apart, unmoving. Ants already circling it. My mind reacts. Liam, go get my cell phone from the car! We have to call Angela! He runs, but comes back empty-handed because he can't get the door open. I remember, her daughter is home. I go to the house, and ask her to call her mom. We go back to the flight cage. I crouch low, and pick him up. He's gasping. I caress his limp body carefully and we walk back to the house, and place him in a pet carrier with towels around him. He feels cooler than normal. I gently pet his crown and say goodbye. We leave. I find out later that night, the little kestrel died.

I know, without a doubt, that was John's final way of saying goodbye to me. He knew I loved those birds because of our history with one.

Sunday, 6/26/2011. Release day. It is set for 4pm. We drive out to the Napa location where it was found as a baby. With Angela giving me reminders of how to handle the feisty one, I decided to do it with bare hands. He's strong. I hold him firmly yet gently. I am surrounded by my loved ones. I feel so much gratitude. For me, the act of releasing this wild animal, was not only for the kestrel itself, but also in forgiving myself and my brother for our loss of the years and to one another. To know that my wish for him is "John, May You Be at Peace".

I will always feel like half of me is missing. But, I will forever be a twin. These little blips of my experience, perhaps more special to me than anyone can know, help me heal. It is in Mother Nature herself that I feel is putting her loving embrace around us both to warm our hearts. Recently, I stumbled on a short speech given by Albert Einsten called "My Credo" in which one of the lines really moved and held me. "Although I am a typical loner in daily life, my consciousness of belonging to the invisible community of those who strive for truth, beauty, and justice has preserved me from feeling isolated. The most beautiful and deepest experience a man can have is the sense of the mysterious." More than ever, I heed these words and its meaning—in spiritu et veritate (in spirit and truth). Start every day with a purpose. Be responsible for your actions. Share yourself. And let those you know you love them.

The power of the kestrel is patience, concentration and precise action. Opportunities are recognized and acted upon at exactly the correct moment, we can learn from this. If kestrel flies into your life, it may be asking you to stimulate your mental powers and move speedily and smoothly into the future that you desire. Go with the flow, paying attention to the movement of every situation and be responsible for your actions.*

 

 

* Kestrel, Power Animal, Symbol of Speed and Grace By Ina Woolcott
http://www.shamanicjourney.com/article/6154/kestrel-power-animal-symbol-of-speed-and-grace

Memory Lane for many "thank yous", sprinkled with a few "I'm sorrys"

(Warning - long post ahead!)

Recently, I've been asked by a young person, very dear to my heart, to write down some memories of things I did in my youth and young adulthood, that impressed upon my life, making me, me.

A huge question right? Hell yeah! It really has gotten me into thinking, well, what DID I do? For starters…my reaction has been somewhat delayed, but WOW! I take it as a HUGE compliment dear "N". So, here it goes…while I don't expect you or anyone else to go out and do these things and process them the way I did, the emphasis here is to always be "Eyes Wide Open" and look inside to see what motivates you. I will be the first to say, my road to "here" was an ever meandering one, at times dark and cloudy, but at others, so amazingly bright! I also don't take 100% credit, as I had no idea at times where I was going. It was the kindness of others who saw the potential in me and opened certain doors to nudge me through. So, in no particular order….

1) Learn to filter out the good friends and the bad.
Maybe because I'm a twin, it was easier for me to see early on in life what the good friends did for us vs. the bad ones. This isn't to say that my twin had only bad friends, but it was pretty clear, who the few individuals were that influenced in such a way. There was a brief moment in middle school years, where I could have easily shifted my "groupie" towards this kind of influence, but I found my inner voice nagging me saying "Hello, do you REALLY like these people?" So, I listened. We all know who those certain people are in our lives, where from the moment we meet them, you've found your soul sista or brotha. The right friends will bring out the best qualities in you and will own the digits on your hands for life. Like you said "N", it's all about quality not quantity.

2) Pick your passion
In high school, I discovered that I had a deep passion for 2 things: humanities and service. I was "President" of the Service Club my senior year (not to mention Vice-President of my class during junior year). We would do various things on a volunteer basis for the school or for non-profit organizations. It was an early lesson in life that checking your own ego at the door was a good thing. Far too often, we get wrapped up in our little egotistic heads and forget that there will always be others that have many more hardships in life than yourself. Humanities on the other hand, gave me opportunities to experience "life" through the eyes of real people (even dead, they can be so impressive!). A list of certain novels that made me think, cry or drift off were: Edith Wharton's beautiful heart-breaking novel "Ethan Frome", Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" (movie was awesome too), Charles Dickens' "A Tale of Two Cities", Emily Brontë's "Wuthering Heights" (can you see a pattern here, I'm a sucker for good tortured romance or the human potential factor), John Steinbeck's "The Grapes of Wrath", J.D. Salinger's "Catcher in the Rye", Judith Guest's "Ordinary People" and lastly Shakespear's "King Lear" (I re-enacted this with high school buddy Aileen and I got to play 2 parts — King Lear and one of the 3 witches where I divided half of me as the King and the other half as the witch, tough but fun!). There were lots of other reads, but for some reason, these stick out in my mind as memorable. Perhaps it was also in the way a certain teacher embraced the emotional tilt of a novel, or an old photo that showed a skeletal child laborer during the Victorian era that startled me. Whatever it was, I got sucked into a world beyond "just me".

Since, it was due to certain books that lead me out of the "neighborhood", to find more for papers and research assignments, I found these places to be profound.

• Harold Washington Library
Built in 1991, is an amazing library, with performance space and incredible views. Previously though, the main Chicago branch was inside of the Chicago Cultural Center. This is one of my most favorite buildings in downtown Chicago! It is itself a masterpiece architecturally. Look up and you'll find the gorgeous Healy and Millet stained glass dome in the Grand Army of the Republic Rotunda, the Grand Staircase and Preston Bradely Hall, and most certainly, you will see galleries presenting well-known or up and coming artists in Chicago. I loved going here when it was the library - so I was a little sad when it got moved, but I am ever so thankful I did experience the magic of this place as it was offered up to me.

• Newberry Library
Another gem in downtown - while you can't check anything out, and it is a very white-glove kind of a place, you can get a glimpse at amazing collections, maps, illuminated manuscripts (OMG. did I love that!) It is a serious place for scholars, teachers and archivists…but the sense of humanity here is DEEP! Beautiful within too!

• Loyola University Chicago - Lakeshore campus -  Cudahy Library (my alma mater).
The main study room here is breathtaking. To walk within, and see people like you in deep concentration - well, it makes you want to learn! You really get the sense of self motivation and education. While, I ended up branching off to the fine art studio for eventual study sessions, (since I spent so much time there, and it was quieter), this library held great memories for me.

Also on Loyola's Lake Shore campus….

--The Martin D'Arcy Gallery (I got my fix of illuminated manuscripts and medieval period art pieces). Tiny museum, but incredible collection! It looks like it has now moved to Michigan Avenue though.

--Campus Grounds = the ultimate college experience. While, it wasn't very big, Loyola offered up just the right amount of university nostalgia, and I loved walking through campus, glancing eastward to the view of the lake, entering charming old brick buildings, and even becoming the target of an aggressive hungry squirrel (never will I tease a squirrel again!)


My foodie beginnings….
Noodles in the Pot and Joy's Noodles & Rice - Same owners, different locations. Great and inexpensive Thai food

Moody's Pub (Edgewater. Great place for dark ambiance and blue cheese burgers!)

Reza's - need I say more? (for those who don't know, I named my 18 year old cat after this place - best persian restaurant in Chicago!)

Russian Tea Time (on Adams by the Art Institute)…order the borscht soup and you'll see why

Ann Sather's (Boy's Town and Andersonville) - best cinnamon rolls

Moti Mahal Indian Restaurant (on Belmont and Devon) - one word: Buffet

And if you can save up for some amazing restaurant experiences:
Spring Restaurant
Topolobampo
Sushi Wabi
BlackBird

The place I currently have a bullseye on is: Alinea

Must dos:
• Chicago Film Festival
• Be a regular at the Music Box Theater
• Be a supporter of the Arts!
• Pick up The Reader every Thursday and make it a habit to read it cover to cover.
• See the Symphony, The Joffrey Ballet, Hubbard Street Dance Companies.

• See live performances at the Chicago Theater and Goodman Theaters.

Films that still move me: Trainspotting, Billie Elliot, The Three Colors Trilogy, The Double Life of Véronique, Dead Man, Dead Poets Society, Goodwill Hunting, Delicatessen and Schindler's List.

• Visit the MCA, the Mexican Fine Arts Museum, sit on the front steps of the Art Institute and people watch, go inside and spend a whole afternoon there (Tuesdays are free). My favorite spots? The Asian Gallery where you can find Korean celadon ceramics from the Goryeo dynasty, Georges-Pierre Seurat’s Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, Pablo Picasso's The Old Guitarist, Julia Margaret Cameron's photo titled Julia Jackson, Constantin Brâncusi's Golden Bird, Edgar Degas' Ballet at the Opera, Albrecht Dürer's The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Ed Paschke's Caliente, Fiber artist Claire Zeisler's Private Affair I, Chuck Close's Alex, Amadeo Modigliani's Red Nude, Marc Chagall's The Circus Rider, and the Arms, Amor, Medieval/Renaissance Cooridor.

• On going every year in April through May, is the School of the Art Institute of Chicago's BFA and MFA shows. Go! (hint hint, now!)

• Attend "Around the Coyote" in Wicker Park's Gallery Tour to experience some pretty amazing (and shitty) art. You'll get just about every flavor, and it's fantastic!
• Do the L.A.T.E. Ride (where you bike at night with hundreds of other riders from midnight to 6am), or the BLT ride (Boulevard Lakefront Tour ride) - remember that one?
• Learn to navigate the city via train lines.
• Push yourself to learn one athletic ability. Mine was rollerblading. Granted, I did have one hard crash fall that landed me with a blood infection, and a summer with a bum leg, but you will learn how to train your body and push to the next level of accomplishment. (Just wear knee pads if you plan on going fast).
• Take a Chicago Ghost Tour

• Check out Old Town School of Folk Music - you just never know what you might discover about yourself, musically

As I wrap up this long entry, there are two more life long lessons that have been majorly important: The art of saying "Thank you" and "I'm Sorry". No one gets through life without the help of others (ego check here again). It has been of ultimate importance to say "Thank You" to those that have helped me along the way, as it has been crucial to say "I'm sorry", with conviction and no repeat offenses. Why one might ask? The answer is simple. It shows a sense of humanity and "feeling"— that a person recognizes a moment of reciprocation between themself and another. It shows integrity and maturity.

 

(Looking back on my own photos, had anyone asked "do you know where life will take you?", I would have replied "not a clue", but what I did do was keep my "Eyes Wide Open" and an open heart. a) fifth grade - ala 100% innocence  b) age 16 height of "who am I?"  c) first college ID photo taken after a graveyard shift of working all night at M&M Mars candy company the summer before hitting college. Message was clear — blue collar work was definitely not for me.  d) first ID photo taken as a student at the Art Institute of Chicago while I was attending Loyola. Had no idea that my parochial elementary education would be a ticket to a scholarship for one class there, but it was first step to a definite path  e) my first trip to California, overlooking cows and green rolling hills near the Hearst Castle. A life altering trip for sure and the destination of where I now call home.  f) Monday morning, me, in this moment: 04.05.2010 10:30am, Napa, California.

I had fun going down memory lane of my youth - hoping someone else can do the same, in her future.

nostalgic beauty: jeogori - captured by Kim Kyung Soo

...snap shots from Korean Vogue, beautifully captured by Kim Kyung Soo. Leaves me breathless and reminiscing on some of my own jeogori as a child...

(via bobbin talk)     

little drummer boy

getting in the mood, with a favorite duo.

The World's Largest Beatles (Ferris Bueller) Sing-a-Long

LOVE LOVE LOVE this!

am so wishing i was in NYC for this,
so for all of you that are there Friday, the 31st -HALLOWEEN,
you MUST go to this!

This Friday at 7pm, at the New York Halloween parade,
a secret group of friends are planning to recreate that fabulous
Ferris Bueller scene, where Ferris inspires a Chicago parade to
sing Twist & Shout. They already have 1,000 volunteers, balloons,
sound equipment and an entire marching band!!!
You can join them here.

ferris bueller's day off was THE best thing
that happened in 1986 - seriously!

still remember the buildup to going to the theater:
me + jen bielarz + 2 bikes + major pee/bathroom run =
best movie experience in chicago, of course, of all time!

need i say more.

(thanks swissmiss for the call out!)

the chestnut tree

the chestnut tree
a film about a girl revisiting her memories of
her childhood spent with her mother.
hand drawn animation set to piano music.

so timely, as i have my own mother and grandmother
on my mind a lot these days. . .
chestnuts were also excitable delights.
(. . . heavy heart)