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.

Only looking ahead, 2012 and how to stand tall in it!

The holidays are upon us.

There will be cheer, spirits, good eats, family and friends.
The memories of this year will keep me full for a while,
but I am ready to make new ones.

Wishing everyone a much-anticpated, positively-charged 2012!
Let's stand tall, with smiles, some tears ok... knowing that we have
learned to embrace life for all it's beauty and tragedy.

Deep gratitute to all who have been my steady, my rock:
as clients, friends and fellow members of what we call humanity!

Happy Holidays!
—Julia

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.

I found my "Lois" in Mabel.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010.

A normal day... 6am, go to the gym, 7:30am, back at home, make a latte, say bye to husband and get child up from bed. Or at least forcing myself into normalcy.

I head out to my studio (literally a few steps out of the house to the yard... yes, I do realize the glory of this) to begin my day. Onto work... email this person, print out that project to send off, update design, etc.... all normal.

Shortly after Noon, I receive a call on my work line. I answer. And I hear an elderly voice launch into, "Alice, this is Mabel. I'm calling to let you know I'm not coming over, I fell, so I'm just going to stay in." I immediately recognized the voice. Mabel has been calling me randomly for the last 3 years. Here's the strange part. Today was the first time that she ever called my work line. All previous times, she called the home phone line. The work and home phone numbers are completely different. But still, without thinking, I replied, "I'm sorry, but you have the wrong number." She stuttered, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and "click."

What just happened? Mabel called on my work line, how the heck did she know THAT number? Yes, in the past I was annoyed by her calls, but today, I felt different. And I couldn't figure out the phone swap. Then reality started to hit. Sometimes we do the stupidest things... why?... because you are on auto-pilot?... rushed to get to a deadline?... don't care?... blurring through life?... Thank goodness I let the little voices in my head whisper to me, "Did you hear that? She said she fell. Yeah, it's freaky that it's reminiscent to what happened the night of August 19, 2010 at The Swell Season Concert, but that was THAT night. This is TODAY. SNAP OUT OF IT. She said she fell. (Now all of you get a snippet of what my mind does, literally). So, I dialed *69, in hopes that I could get back to her. And I DID! I introduced myself over the phone and told her I just received a call from her... the wrong number person and was calling back to make sure she was not hurt. She replied that she was alright and appreciated the call. We exchanged a few more nice words. I find out she's 97 and lives at a nearby senior housing center. We said our good byes. "Click."

Back to work. Normalcy. Time check... Ack! Gotta get to the print shop to drop off a job and get a quote. Head out and do exactly that. All the while, I still am thinking of Mabel. Mabel. Mabel.

Get back to the studio: 2pm. Mabel. 2:13pm. Amazingly no calls since Mabel. I've decided. I want to meet her. I *69 her again. She answers. I re-introduce myself and tell her that I would love to meet her, and ask if she would be comfortable with this and if 4pm would work. She says yes. (I'm feeling it: I "CHOOSE" LOIS!)

3:30pm. Get Liam (child), stop at Lucky's to pick up a pretty potted fuscia plant (Liam picks it out) and we drive to meet Mabel. (Truth be told. I was freaked out! What if I get there, and they say there is no Mabel, or worse, she's dead. No joke, that probably would have given me every reason to "check myself in".) We arrive, walk into the center, find her door with her name plate on it, all lovingly decorated with family photos, cards, flowers, and patriotic ribbons. She is loved. We knock. Liam and I are holding hands and the potted fuscia plant. She opens the door. As corny as this may sound, she was a beam of love, warmth and light. We hugged immediately. Kindred spirits. She lets us in.

In our little half hour, we shared our backgrounds. Liam was well-behaved and Mabel approved. I couldn't get over at how youthful she was. Here's a woman who is almost a centurion, but was vivacious, open-minded, sharp as a tack, with positive disposition, and welcoming a stranger into her home. I asked her how it was she dialed my number and she showed me a listing of numbers of other residents there, one of which was her friend Alice. Alice's number was exactly matching my office line, with the exception of the last number, so that made sense in how she called me by chance today. But it didn't make sense in how she had been calling me for the last 3 years on my home phone. A completely different number. I told her this, and she seemed baffled as well. I told her that I had recently experienced something which had and still is affecting me deeply—to open up and do what my mind and heart says. And that was why I was there. She was very moved by that.

I don't know where this will go, as it JUST HAPPENED! But, I do know I've met someone special who I am going to get to know. Sunday, I plan on bringing her some pastries, and share more time with her. I'm really looking forward to it. I find it curious that the names "Lois" and Mabel" come from that same era of WWI generation, strong, simple but memorable women names.

As I end this entry. I will leave you with a few photos of Mabel and I (that Liam took).... and two more "universe/God/Buddha/pick-your-passion-theology" moments that grabbed my attention today. The first was at the gym. As a newbie at hitting the gym lately at 6am, let's just say that I am not altogether really awake, just rev'ing up. While on the treadmill.... my eyes kept wandering... tired at reading the captions on the TVs, but not really interested in lip reading the news reporters. Today, my eyes kept falling on part of a signage for the emergency defibrillator box directly in front of me on the wall, but settling only on 3 particular words: "Door is open!" And lastly... if you look really close (click on image) at Mabel's earrings... they are a luminous glow of glassine blue baubles.... perhaps not Paddington Bear blue, but moonlit-glow blue. 

I found my "Lois" in Mabel.

I choose Lois. What about you?

Life has a funny way of giving you a wake up call. It can happen in the most subtle and split-second manner, where most people would probably not "catch the moment". Or it can happen as loud as a bomb, rattling the very core of your world. Lucky for me (or unlucky, depending on how one might look at this), I'm one of those individuals who can for whatever reason, recognize the most miniscule to the most explosive moments where the universe/God/Buddha/pick-your-passion-theology perspective, says... "Ok Julia, lookie here, this is intended for you to learn from... so what are you gonna do with this experience?"

Last Thursday, August 19, 2010 my friends Julie, Rachelle, and I drove down to Saratoga, California to attend a very long-awaited concert at the Mountain Winery to see The Swell Season. Now, anyone who has a decent playlist on their iPhones/iPads/MP3 player would know who these amazing artists are, but another well known fact is the lead singers: Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová were in Once, a 2006 Irish musical (low budget/indie) film, that received a 2008 Academy Award for Best Original Song for the song "Falling Slowly". Yes, we are big fans and drove 1.5 hours to get there on a Thursday afternoon, taking the afternoon off from work to get dinner and an early start to the concert.

The lead up to the event couldn't have been more perfect. Beautiful warm day in Saratoga, California, early arrival to our destination at The Basin, our selected place to get drinks and dinner. We had 15 minutes until the restaurant would open when we heard someone yell... "Go across the street for some free wine and nibbles and say you are there for blah-dee-blah-dah...!"  And, yes, we did just that, crash a little wine tasting party. After tasting a lovely rosé, and posing as if we were truly guests, we scanned the tables for what nibbles could be grabbed. And I saw... pickels! Yum! Perfect! So we grabbed a few before saying our thank yous and headed to The Basin.

Last minute bar seating was scored as it was a full house due to the 2 concerts happening in the area, one of which we were attending. Cucumber martinis for Julie and Rachelle, and a Stella Artois for me, launched us into the perfect setup for "letting our hair down" and getting excited for the show. Dinner and then a surprise run-in with friends of Julie made for an even more pleasant experience at our eatery. (thought in my head... What a perfect night!)

Arriving at the winery was a site to be seen. Can we say GINORMOUS? The grounds to the estate were breathtaking and seemed to go on and on. Again, a perfect build up to the anticipated show. Car parked, bathroom break, more beer, seats found....we were ready. Balmy evening was cooling off quickly for a crisp summer night sky. Moon aglow, eerily bright, even for a half lunar phase. I made a curious mental check on how luminous it did look. Opening band done and at last... The Swell Season on stage! WAHOO!

A few sets into the show, Markéta disappeared and came back in a warmer attire. She went up to the mic and admitted, "This is my first EVER wardrobe change. I wanted to look cute for you but got so cold. I will remember this night forever!"  About two-thirds into the show Colm Mac Con Iomaire, Swell Season's violinist performed a hauntingly beautiful solo of a 300 year old folk song from his home town on the Western shores of Ireland. It seemed like not a soul took a breath while watching this lovely moment.  Please listen if you have the time.

 

The band returned to stage after, about to launch into their next song when someone from the audience yelled "Tell us about Lois!"... Well, we all were like, "Who's Lois?" Curiosity got the cat!

Glen Hansard, in his most endearing Irish accent and style of speech launched into a story. (note: I am going to do my best to recite what was stated/recounted, but because it's all from memory, an exact replay of how things were said might be off. I do think the gist of the way I will tell the story will remain truthful. I know repeating the story to myself, Julie and Rachelle, and close friends has helped to maintain consistency and integrity of what happened.) Glen continues to the audience on how 6-7 months ago he was in Chicago (a big "Wahoo!" escaped my lips as it is my hometown!) and just checked into a hotel and was heading out, riding the elevator down to go out into the cold Spring air. He noticed an older woman standing in front of him in the elevator who was wearing a very impressive, intensely blue, Paddington Bear style coat, covered from head to calf, with only the feathered gray strands of her hair escaping around her face and the tip of her nose showing. He said, "Well, that's a mighty fine coat you have on and it looks lovely on you." She turned around and looked at him and said, sternly, "Thank you. What's your name and what do you do?" He replied, I'm Glen Hansard, and I'm in a rock band called The Swell Season and we're performing in Chicago... just had a show in New York." She said, "I'm Lois. Never heard of you." He continues, "I was also in a movie called Once and in another Irish rock band called "The Frames". Lois, "Never heard of it or the movie." At this point, Glen admits that unless you are Bono or Jesus, no one will give a shit who you are. Everyone laughs.  Lois says, "This is my first time leaving my apartment in 2 years. I'm visiting my daughter who lives here in Chicago. I saw this coat in the window, and decided to buy it. I've never done anything like that before, so I just bought it."... she continues... "You know, I told my son not to go to that building." (Glen realizes and tells the audience she was referring to 9/11). "I had a funny feeling. He worked all weekend long and I called to tell him to stay home, that I had a funny feeling. Well, he didn't listen, and now he's dead." At this point Glen makes a statement at how remarkable a one-off chance of running into a stranger on an elevator can impress upon him an intensely deep and inspiring felt emotion that it was the source of inspiration for his next song. They exit the elevator and hotel, and as she grabs a cab, stops before closing the door and says to Glen, "That was a very nice thing you did back there. Telling me I looked good in this coat. You didn't have to do that but you did. Don't ever NOT say what's on your mind and heart. Live your life, LIVE YOUR LIFE", as she proceeded to close the cab's door and speed away. Glen faces us, the audience and says how often does something like that happen in a person's life? And he launches into "When Your Mind's Made Up", a gorgeous, impassioned song so powerful, and of course my favorite song. I've embedded it here, please watch.

The crowd was alive! Feeling the setup of Lois and the beauty of this song. Glen starts bantering about another humorous story, and then it happened. A body, landing 3 feet from him coming out of the sky. Is this a joke? Was it a technician who fell while clapping? Is he ok? What the F*CK is going on!?!? And then I heard a woman a few seats to my left saying how she saw this man jump onto the rooftop of the building behind the stage and took a running leap off, landing right on stage, between Glen and Colm. A hard, weighted, graphic fall. If I had left my iPhone's video on, I would surely have caught the impact.

MD's from the audience ran on stage, Glen's reaction is what still haunts me. He immediately put down his guitar and went up to the body, and then put his hands over his mouth and the whites of his eyes illuminated, like the glow of the moon. And panic. The band was quickly wisked off stage... and the audience... tears, cries, people hugging and making their way out of their seats. Julie, Rachelle and I were caught in the intensity of our eyes glued to it all. We couldn't have had the most perfect seats to see everything. And then I felt anger... deep anger at how selfish this person's choice in ending his life became my own and everyone else's reality. The staff asked us not to leave our seats so that paramedics could have access to the stage. After 20 minutes of CPR, I knew he was gone. The three of us eventually left our seats to walk around the perimeter of the grounds, with the rest of the audience.... some zombie like, some rattled to the core in tears, some nonchalant, and some, like me feeling anger. And then it hit me... my own connection to suicide and my brother's attempt when we were 19. I won't go into the details here, but he survived. He shouldn't have. He did... but the heart-ache and stress our family was put through over the reason he did it... is what triggered my anger.

No one was allowed out for 2 hours. Obviously the show ended. We found Julie's friends (from The Basin) and headed back to their car where their dog was happily waiting for them, Zaya, a French bull dog. Zaya's owner, Ben worked his magic of tasteful but raunchy humor that definitely helped to take the edge off the night. Of course, Zaya caught the eye of a woman parked near us who became embarrassingly silly, telling her boyfriend/husband how much she wanted a dog exactly like Zaya, but would call it "Pickels" (insert here: remember pickels from the winery party we crashed? Interesting connection, I thought).... Well, if you clicked on the link above to "it happened", the media soon found out that the jumper was named Michael Edward Pickels. A man who was facing charges of assault with a firearm, domestic violence and false imprisonment, recently released from jail on a $150,000 bail.

Was this a random act of violence and stupidity with the off chance that a certain number of people were there to witness something so horrific? Perhaps. Questions swirling in my head... What's the meaning between all these connections?, "Pickels", the moon, Markéta's comment about it being a night she will forever remember, Chicago (at least for me), Lois' message to speak your mind and LIVE your life, and MY song to be the chosen one?

Still processing, but what this experience has opened for me, at every core of my being is: I choose "Lois". What about you?

Personas | Metropath(ologies) | An Installation by Aaron Zinman

Ok, so is it because I'm a woman, and I'm complicated? Jeez! Husband and son look fairly well-balanced, though don't think I didn't notice that "illegal" section on Liam. Oh no it didn't say that!
(Thank you WWW for making look like I am either a genius or sociopath! Click to enlarge.)

Personas is a component of the Metropath(ologies) exhibit, recently on display at the MIT Museum by the Sociable Media Group from the MIT Media Lab. It uses sophisticated natural language processing and the Internet to create a data portrait of one's aggregated online identity. In short, Personas shows you how the Internet sees you.

(via my friend Rebecca Targ)

If you have, are, can . . .

A little reminder to myself in how lucky I and most people I know are.
I think I need to get branded to remember this.

(via freshness factor five thousand)

bye bye April... welcome May

Wow, I can actually see some empty spots on my desk (maybe because I had to clear for a make-shift ready area for an impromptu client meeting overlooking proofs yesterday (though I fear clutter will soon accumulate). Just finished my lunch of late, a cup of peach flavored kefir (at least I'm eating healthy.) --Note to self: CLEAN YOUR STUDIO!

Looking forward to those May sunny skies and opportunities to quiz my ability to read the markings of hawks by color and wing shape.

Thank you April for growing my own wings in so many ways....

TEDxTalks - Cameron Herold - 3/13/10

So, you know I'm already pumping up (my 4 year old) Liam's heart and mind to dream BIG: to put passion into the things he loves and make a difference in the world, whatever and however he needs to do it. I would LOVE it if he became an entrepreneur!

(though, this Mama doesn't want him to *cheat*!)

 

see the video here

Muffin Monsters and the Glamorous Life (if you only knew)

While in the midst of waiting for the perfect lighting situation at dusk to capture a view of St. Helena Hospital from Mount Septique (where we were literally on top of the hospital's concrete septic tank — the only possible place to take in a photo of the entire hospital from afar), my colleague Megan noticed a peculiar choice of words blazoned on a nearby iron pipework.

Muffin Monster

Really? REALLY? I found myself trying to rationalize the name sake: perhaps the inventor of such a contraption had Muffin as a surname, but needed to "toughen" it up? And that's when Megan and Rachelle just shook their heads. Is it just me, but my mind couldn't help but go to the gutter! How can one come up with a name like that, which clearly had it's place in the workings of removing human waste. My designer mind was going into warp speed! How? Why? When? Who? Seriously?

So, here's where the iPhone comes in really handy. I googled it. Turns out, the name does have an origin of meaning. See here, a beautiful rendition by Andrew N.

I learn something new everyday. Muffin, more commonly known as an individual cup-shaped quick bread; is also known as a turd. I won't even go into it's other much more sexual and degrading connotation!

Happy moments, while clocking in some photoshoots for annual report season. I even get to hold my photographer by the belt straps so that she doesn't get muffin-fied over the steep edge!