Audrey Mango Sees the World

New Year, Second Chance

2012-01-29T23:56:00.000-05:00

Today I went to the Lunar New Year parade; I was so excited I couldn't sleep last night. I arrived at the barricades early enough to claim a spot and visited with the others who were waiting, as the crowds shot off streams of confetti and snapped firecrackers against the sidewalk. After the parade, I went to a vegetarian restaurant for dim sum and sat and watching confetti blow past the window like snow. Then, full of yam cakes and green tea, I kicked through the streets, through the confetti-drifts.

A month ago I was meditating on the glorious extravagance of Christmas, and now I'm mulling over the wonderful, abundant graciousness of two new years in one month. Did you mess up on your New Year's resolutions already? Well, guess what?! It's a New Year AGAIN, already!

A Sort of Homecoming

2012-01-25T23:43:00.001-05:00

My trip to Shrimp Town and City Where the Water Bends was surprisingly – normal.

In my recollections, they were larger than life. (To be fair, the dragonflies and mosquitos really were.) I expected that I would be overcome with emotion as soon as I saw the airport gate where I used to wait for my trips home. I worried that I would cry as soon as my friend came to meet me at Arriving Flights. I thought my heart would drop to my stomach and fly to my throat, simultaneously.

But arriving in my sort-of home felt right, without feeling dramatic. The airport Christmas tree was draped in Carnival colors, just like I knew it would be. My friend and I fell into a rhythm of conversation on the way back from the airport as if I had been gone two weeks. And as we took a walk in the afternoon, the sidewalk buckled over the live oak roots (faded silver beads dangling from their branches) just as it always had and still does in my memory.

I saw my old and wonderful friends at the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, where we looked out into the misty evening at the lights glowing over the City Where the Water Bends. There were a few awkward pauses, but then our stories and laughter flowed easily. At the wedding, we danced and goofed off in the candlelight, and we felt the sweat gather and our hair curl in the humidity, just like any other spring or summer evening we had spent in the porch light or standing on sticky bar floors.

There was a brass band; mint juleps and hurricanes. We were so at ease.

In the morning I drove to Shrimp Town; I treated myself to the scenic route and to the roads I had always loved. I stopped to take a few pictures. I expected I'd take them with desperation or urgency, wanting to recapture the feeling of adventure, independence, and novelty I felt when I'd first driven them. But I didn't feel urgent or desperate; just peaceful.

The next morning I went to visit my coworkers. I sat in my rental car in the rain, just outside my old office, and noticed that my initials were on the license plate of the car in front of me! After catching up with my coworkers and my boss, I revisited some of my favorite spots in my sort-of hometown: the library and its garden, the grocery store with the incredible cheese samples, the roads I travelled every day between the office, the gym, and my apartment. Fortunately, the sun had come out.

There were also some frustrations. I remembered how much of a hassle driving could be, along one-lane, curving roads, when a single bridge out (or getting stuck behind a rusty pick-up towing an old motorboat) could mean a 25 minute delay or detour. My purse even slid off the front seat as I braked for an unforeseen obstacle, which reminded me about that near-daily annoyance! Also, my hair doubled in volume within a few hours of deplaning.

I had started to think of City Where the Water Bends and Shrimp Country as entirely magical places, filled with multi-colored sprinkles, butterflies, sousaphones, warm breezes, ceiling fans, oak leaves, perfectly sweet oranges, the freedom of the open road and, well, abundant water and shrimp. I remembered my job as hassle-free with angelic and unharried coworkers and supervisors. Going back to my sort-of home allowed me to remember that it's a place on earth, with its own hassles and limitations. It also reminded me that it's not a place in my imagination or fairy-land – it's a real place that I can visit and remember. My trip was rejuvenating and delightful, but now I'm happy to be back in City of Sidewalks. I feel so full of love, for my new home and for my always Sort-of Home.

Labels

2012-01-20T02:08:00.003-05:00

I'll be gone on Sunday (Shrimp Country, here I come!) so I leave you with an early post.

Things in the Wrong Places

2012-01-18T00:39:00.000-05:00

This week, I caught three incongruous, surreal scenes:
an easy chair, part of yet apart from the park benches,
the line blurred between living room and public spaces;

a hula hoop caught in a leafless tree
yellow like any other bright spot in a street scene,
but a vestige of yesterday afternoon,
and transient;

a soaked and smiling bear,
painfully oblivious to the rain and the pigeons,
carrying on, blindingly positive, unwanted.

They were all scenes that stopped me, and I would have stared even without my camera.
Out of place.

They made me think of the times I've felt out of place and incongruous. In college I realized that, once you study abroad, you'll never be in the right place again.
I threw myself into loving England,
but I didn't quite fit in there, as happy as I was. That's just the way it is.
The day that I came home, I looked at the mail that had piled on my desk,
while my mom made my first American meal.
I opened a letter from Oxfam, and the 8.5 x 11 sheet looked like a square after months of A4.
I came downstairs and desperately asked my mom if paper was always that shape,
and she didn't know what to say.
I went back to my College in Farmland but no one else had changed. I missed England.
"Don't worry; you'll get over it,"someone said,
which only made me more upset.

After college, I lived in Declining, Now Reemerging Port City in my Rolling Hills, Tidewater and Peach Blossom State. I worked with migrant workers and immigrant youth.
I threw myself into their celebrations.
I related to them because I missed England and they missed Michoacán, San Marcos, and Toluca.
I was neither mexicana nor guatemalteca nor quite the American I had been.
After those two years I moved again for grad school; living in a small city reminded me of England, and I missed tostadas and Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Then I found hurricanes and low-flying herons in Shrimp Town;
I caught throws in the City Where the Water Bends and discovered that I actually like fried oysters. I
became accustomed to tremendous storm clouds and never ending sunsets in the huge, flat sky.
The beauty took my breath away but I was different, an outsider.
I came home for a week each Christmas and a week each summer and I ate mid-Atlantic water ice or egg bagels.

Now I've been in City of Crowds and Concrete and Challah for a year and I love it.
I can go for walks every day. Every restaurant has a unique vegetarian option. I have not yet been able to go to every museum I want to see. But my breath catches in my throat when I think of herons against the storm-clouded sky.

Every place I go changes me, and for the better; every place leaves its indelible mark on me. On Friday, I'm flying to City Where the Water Bends for a wedding, and then I'll drive out to see old friends in Shrimp Country. I'm so happy, thinking of driving on the roads that I still see when I close my eyes. I imagine myself under the orange trees again, at home and out of place, as I always will be.

England

2012-01-15T22:39:00.004-05:00

There's nothing that brings my family together like a walk in the woods.

We stop and stare quietly at the fallen leaves, or chatter like blackbirds.

We point out treasure buried under the humus.

We tell each other to be careful, and not to trip.

We leave nothing but footprints.

It's nice to know that if we were ever stranded in the wilderness, we would get along quite happily.

What brings your family together?

Cozy Winter Textures

2012-01-11T23:37:00.001-05:00

During Christmas and New Year's I found so many opportunities for picture taking - cookies, always one of my favorite subjects; the colors of a knitting project in the morning sun; long walks through the woods after hearty Christmas meals. Though there were family pictures and landscapes, my eye was always drawn to the winter textures.

There was something soft and light about all the textures, despite the cold. The sun was always angled, and its golden glow caught tufts and brambles and fields lying fallow. Even in the tangles of bare branches I kept seeing softness. Summer, though it is deep green and many-leaved, is pushing outwards and upwards too urgently to be soft in the way that winter is. The winter textures invite rest and breath – centeredness.

I don't know if you're making any New Year's Resolutions. New Year's, for me, is usually a time when I get a hankering for a new adventure. My mind races ahead to begin planning projects and dreaming of accomplishments, and loops back to see if I've caught up with myself. This year I'm resolving to treat myself softly, to step back from the whirlwind of the City of Perpetual Motion and take better, more restful care of myself.

I think that the best New Year's resolutions come from a desire to treat ourselves softly. Lately I've had several conversations with a Jesuit colleague about a retreat that we're planning. I mentioned that I wanted to talk to the retreat goers about praying for freedom to make good decisions, a foundation of Ignatian discernment. My colleague answered that being free from fear, worry, pride, and so on allow us to be free to be truly ourselves. He said that authenticity - being true to ourselves and the unique way that God calls each one of us - is the path to holiness.

So resolve to treat yourself softly. (Not that you've asked for my advice!) Be true to yourself. Don't jam yourself into new habits that aren't right for you or new projects that don't suit you. Treat yourself kindly and let yourself flourish! Take a deep breath of the soft and cozy winter!

Extravagance

2012-01-08T16:34:00.005-05:00

Two weeks before Christmas, I was hurrying from a community health forum that my organization had helped to sponsor, anticipation effervescent in my breast. I had to stop at the grocery store because I was planning on making a pot of gumbo for my boss for his birthday lunch; I ran home and chopped up the Holy Trinity and set the roux gently sizzling. When the gumbo was finished, I skipped across the street in the snappy cold, under the floating airplanes that passed for stars and and the light from the bridge over Steel Grey River to my friends' Pierogy Party. We helped to roll out the dough and form the dumplings, and the host sizzled them in a pan as we munched on Bulgarian salad, sighed over whisky-soaked raspberry truffles, and sipped bison grass vodka. A friend, born in Wales, taught us how to say cheers in Welsh, and I compared the words to the Irish words I've learnt. When the night was over, I made a list of the ingredients I would need for the next day: the gumbo, the rice, the ingredients for the sweet tamales that we would have at the office Christmas party the day after next . I went over the recipe I would use the next night to make a bûche de Noël and thought about the biscotti I was planning to make for Christmas presents. The abundance of it all took my breath away: the help of the team that put together the health forum, the laughter of my friends, the twinkling street lights, the richness of world with its Polish vodka and Welsh greetings, the bounty of the food, from the vegetables to the sweets. The grace and the joy were extravagantly boundless.

the bûche de Noël

Christmas and Chanukah treats

My mom's Christmas cookies

What do you think? Is this extravagant celebrating a distraction from the meaning of Christmas? I thought, as I settled into my apartment after that night, that this extravagance was the best way to celebrate Christmas. Can you think of anything more extravagant, more excessive, than God coming into our midst, taking up our flesh, our trials but also our laughter, our fish cooked on a fire by the sea, our weddings and wine, our stargazing, our communion? Christmas isn't about getting more stuff, to be sure. But Christmas is about being totally, extravagantly present: to the goodness of creation, to one another, to the prodigal presence of God-with-us.

A camel in church - how extravagant is that?

Whining, and Playing Catch-up, and Starting the New Year

2012-01-04T23:21:00.000-05:00

On September 18th, my camera came to an ignominious end. I was attempting to take a picture of myself when my Gorilla Pod came crashing forward onto my hardwood floor. My camera's lens was jammed, or broken; in any case, immobile, and the camera refused to turn on or off. It only told me, "Err. Spirozz." I had changed the menu language to Italian for kicks, which meant that, in its time of need, I was unable to determine the precise cause of my camera's angst. I immediately logged into Blogger and typed a furious, tearful, impassioned good bye to the blog, bemoaning my general failure as a blogger and spewing passive-aggression. Then I took it down, because passive-aggression is not a good way to get people to read your blog.

It's hard to believe it's been four years since, brand-new camera in hand, I started my first Photo 365 project. My blog and I have had some ups and downs since then: I've struggled to make time for it, I've wondered where to take it next, I've felt uninspired and unconnected. But I've also posted shots and photo essays I was proud of, started conversations with family and friends, and made connections with fellow bloggers living in my hometown and across the world. I even unknowingly took a picture of one blogging friend's former street!

I still want to make a commitment to my blog. I have a new camera and have been enjoying to get to know it - its strengths and its quirks. I think that posting a photo every day is unrealistic and that I often end up posting blurry, exhausted, thoughtless posts. I think that posting "when I feel like it" is unrealistic, too, as I end up with long gaps between my posts, even if the individual posts are more thoughtful and better put together. I've decided that in the coming year I'm going to post twice a week, on Sunday and Wednesday, and try to incorporate more writing and poetry into my posts. In the mean time, I'll work on posting my backlog of photos from my most recent post in August to the unfortunate day that my last camera bit the dust. I'm looking forward to this new year's photos and adventures, and I hope you'll be around for the journey!

Happy days, happy trails, happy new year!

Getting Out (221/365)

2011-08-08T21:22:00.012-04:00

Really, there's nothing like getting out of the office when the sun is still shining. You're thinking about all the potential of the evening, all of the photos to be taken, meals still left to be eaten, time to be wasted with viral videos, and potentially even some yoga or running to be done. Yes, that feels like freedom.

Sundays (220/365)

2011-08-07T21:21:00.024-04:00

My mom was always a huge fan of calm Sunday evenings. She never liked us to go anywhere or do anything too exciting after dinner on Sundays; we were supposed to be settling down and planning for the week ahead. It was sometimes frustrating, but I think she was right in that you can undo all the good of the weekend with being too hurried or unsettled on Sunday night. Sunday night's not my favorite time of the week, because thinking about work feels like work, but I try to take my mom's advice and stay centered and peaceful.

Filth (219/365)

2011-08-06T21:21:00.006-04:00

Ironically, I became covered in all of this dirt at a yoga festival, in the midst of all of that deep breathing, and all of those pro-biotic vegan smoothie samples. I tried to be healthy, but I just got filthy.

Some Things are Better in Theory (218/365)

2011-08-05T21:20:00.014-04:00

My coworker and I walked past this carousel today. We got quite a fright when we saw the animals. As we stared, gape-mouthed, we realized that the figures are meant to be 3-D transformations of children's drawings of animals. Above each distorted figure was the original drawing; they were quite faithfully rendered. It was a charming idea, but I almost had a heart attack when I saw the deformed rabbit, wild grin and smashed, nostrilly nose. It bore a disconcerting resemblance to Frank.

Disembodiment (217/365)

2011-08-04T20:16:00.000-04:00

I could see my shadow walking along at the bottom of the subway, except not my feet attached to it. That was weird. I'd never thought about the fact that I've never seen my shadow disembodied.

Vines (216/365)

2011-08-03T20:15:00.004-04:00

Evening Light (214/265)

2011-08-01T20:08:00.012-04:00

I left the office late today, but it was absolutely worth it. By the time I left, it was the golden hour. I love that tangerine, apricot glow that appears like flourishes in unexpected places, as unexpected highlights.

It was a "blessing in da skies."

Sqares of Light (213/365)

2011-07-31T20:08:00.003-04:00

Kind of still playing with the whole composition thing, but this time with colors. Obviously, this is a sign, but it's also little squares of color. Can you see it as an abstraction?

Composition Study 2 (212/365)

2011-07-29T19:56:00.014-04:00

My super and his crew (assistants? helpers? henchmen? none of these words seem quite right. They're very nice, so henchmen shouldn't be right, but it somehow seems to fit) changed the light bulbs today and fiddled with the fixtures. I couldn't make out why but it seemed like they just weren't satisfied with the way things were fitting together, or lighting. It seemed like they were working on the project all day. When I got back from dinner with friends, a bulb was in but the shade was down. The hallway was bright but stark and I enjoyed and pondered the new lighting. It seemed like a good opportunity to keep working on the composition study I started on Friday, considering dark space and light space and the feelings evoked thereof.

Composition Studies (211/365)

2011-07-29T19:51:00.006-04:00

The Place to Myself (210/365)

2011-07-28T19:51:00.002-04:00

Yikes! (209/365)

2011-07-27T19:50:00.025-04:00

For the most part I try not to complain about the trains. In general it's my belief that it's akin to complaining about the weather: futile and annoying to those around you. But I've finally had it UP. TO. HERE. Every weekend and now many weeknights there's a service disruption, trains rerouted or skipping stops to accomodate construction projects that may or may not be making progress. I've learned (I thought) to check the service alerts ahead of time and be prepared. And I've learned, I thought, to allow plenty of time if I want to get somewhere or get to bed at a reasonable hour. But tonight's trip home was a saga of epic proportions; of signs posted had nothing to do what the trains actually did and trains that just didn't come. "Why bother to post service alerts if you then just run the trains helter skelter?" I asked myself. "I try to make healthy, responsible choices and head home at a reasonable hour, but you make a 35-min trip take an hour and a half," I grumbled.

Anyway, to make a long story short, when I got home I really needed that Nutella on toast.

A Break (208/365)

2011-07-26T19:50:00.008-04:00

I loved the the way the clouds looked against the silver and aqua buildings. They echo the colors but not the shapes; a softer, free-er accompaniment to the towers. And that little break in the clouds: there's hope! It won't always rain. You don't always have to be in your office.

Sweet Relief (207/365)

2011-07-25T22:04:00.000-04:00

It was TWENTY degrees cooler today. Twenty! So refreshing that I'm currently wearing a cardigan!

No. 28 (206/365)

2011-07-24T21:34:00.000-04:00

This bridge is named, very romantically, "Bridge Number 28."

Shadows and Sunshine (205/365)

2011-07-23T21:33:00.014-04:00

I've taken so many pictures of surf, and waves, and beach umbrellas, and the pictures all look the same after a while, even if each beach looks unique to the naked eye. I figured that this would be a little different.

Bread (204/365)

2011-07-22T21:33:00.002-04:00

I accidentally bought $24 worth of artisan bread coupons, which were due to expire, so I used 'em all and got six loaves. My mouth is watering! I'm thinking of all the things I can spread on them! Nutella, olive oil, blackcurrant jam!

Lazy (203/365)

2011-07-21T23:47:00.001-04:00

Holy crow, it's hot. No, but I mean really. It is so hot (how hot is it?) that my street is actually quiet, no one lingering to talk outside, my clothes are stuck to me, my boss let us out early, I drank two liters of seltzer water and then some, I'm shining, even the thought of the beach is not refreshing (the sun!) and I could fry an egg on the sidewalk. It's hot, and I'm lazy.

Inspiration (202/365)

2011-07-20T23:32:00.000-04:00

There are just some things that are so compelling, so captivating, so enthralling, so can't take your eyes away, because they cause the human spirit to be stirred and the heart to ask, "What ... the heck ... IS it? And why? And ... and just, WHY?" That was my reaction to these toadstool structures at the shore of the otherwise beautiful lake.

City Rainbow (201/365)

2011-07-19T23:35:00.000-04:00

Dad (my firefighter dad), I know what you're thinking, and I'm thinking it too: "It's not safe - the pressure's depleted! When there IS a fire, the hydrants'll be no good! And, ahh, two open hydrants on one block? Oh, they'd better hope no sparks from a passing cigarette land in an open garbage can to smolder!"

I was thinking that as I walked through the spray, but boy did that spray feel good.

Powerless (200/365)

2011-07-18T23:17:00.000-04:00

I'm powerless against you, Nutella, utterly powerless.

Skywriting (199/365)

2011-07-17T23:16:00.000-04:00

I had a heckuva time figuring out what that said!

Tar Paper and Toes (198/365)

2011-07-16T23:15:00.000-04:00

Oh my word! (197/365)

2011-07-15T22:48:00.002-04:00

It's a curtain in a doorway. Oh, I'm so uninspired today!

Tides (196/365)

2011-07-14T23:15:00.001-04:00

When I came to City of Ever-Available Food and Endless Desserts, I got to reconnect with one of my closest friends from grad school - the first one I made there, actually. She was living with her husband just a hop, skip, and jump away as she finished her PhD. Our reunion was exuberant and joy-filled. We had tea the first weekend we saw each other, and the next, too. We celebrated Mardi Gras together and encouraged each other through Lent. She applied for jobs and confessed she didn't see herself staying in City of Desserts but Also Hassles. Then the word came that she had been offered a job - a good job - in the City Where the Water Bends. And she and her husband are off to the place I just left! I'm both sad and joy-full.

Tonight was the night before they moved. The storage folks came during the day to collect their things and ship them south, and then a bunch of friends gathered for one last good bye dinner, outside our City of Desserts and Also Hassles, right on Steel Grey River, which was peachy-blue and turquoise. Even though I didn't know everyone there we were at ease with each other right away. As it turned out, my friend and her husband aren't the only ones moving: one friend is going to Alaska, a newly-minted MSW. Another has graduated and is headed overseas. The only other friend who's staying here has started a new job on the other end of the city, and I'm still new here. It was a beautiful dinner: good scenery, good food, yes; but more than that good hearts, compassionate for one another, taking joy in one another, excited at what was to come and so grateful for what had been.

I'm thinking now of the professor my friend and I had together; he had a few catchphrases he'd say over and over in his Irish lilt (made subtle by years in America). I'm thinking about my favorite one:

There's an ebb to every tide but the tide of God's grace.

193, 194, 195

2011-07-13T23:13:00.000-04:00

I forgot.

I forgot.

And I forgot again. Terrible.

I thought I could make it the whole year this time.

Cables (192/193)

2011-07-10T22:47:00.000-04:00

A famous spot looking not-so-famous.

Looking Through (191/365)

2011-07-09T22:46:00.000-04:00

Today my boyfriend and I went to a sculpture park that was featuring an installation about sight - the idea that the way you look at something impacts what you see. Most of the sculptures invited you to look at the work from a certain vantage point, or to look at the landscape through a viewing hole. One of them was made of camera lenses nestled between sandbags. It was accompanied by a depiction of a hand holding an iPhone to the camera lens and taking a picture through it. We complied - me with my camera, not my phone. The shot looks more like an iris than anything else.

After a walk and dinner and another walk (it was a big dinner), we stood on the elevated train platform and I noticed the bright color of watermelons and flowers through the slats.

Bad Luck (190/365)

2011-07-08T22:29:00.001-04:00

1. It's broken.
2. It looked really pretty sitting there, reflecting trees in its facets, so I decided to be brave for once and stop and take a picture of something interesting. So I messed around with my settings getting ready to take a shot when the garbage truck game. Of course. I tried to take it as quickly as possible but the garbage man was looking at his watch. I didn't get the shot I wanted. But this turned out well.

Haircut (189/365)

2011-07-07T23:49:00.000-04:00

I did take a picture today, but it's of myself. I cut my hair into an asymmetrical long-bob with layers (it was nerve-wracking!) and took a picture of the result.

Finally (188/365)

2011-07-06T22:46:00.001-04:00

We used to have these really annoying shower curtain rings that popped open at the bottom, so the shower curtain was always falling off. There were three holes in particular that refused to stay attached, and before each shower I used to thread the hooks back through the holes in the curtain and pop them closed, which usually lasted at least as long as the shower. I recently treated myself to new hooks and I hung them today; then I admired my handiwork and I sincerely thought to myself, "Wow, I now live in one of those swanky apartments with a shower curtain that does not dangle!"

Why is this necessary? (187/365)

2011-07-05T23:02:00.000-04:00

These posters are all over the subway system and the buses. CGI Smurfs. Or 3-D. Or whatever. I just ... I just don't know.

Wildflowers (186/365)

2011-07-04T22:23:00.000-04:00

Farm Stand (185/365)

2011-07-03T22:21:00.001-04:00

Knee high by the Fourth of July,
In my tummy all the summ ... y.

That was weak, but well-intentioned.

Trick! (184/365)

2011-07-02T22:05:00.000-04:00

I'm at my mom's house. She directed me to sniff her beautiful flowers and then chuckled because they are FAKE and they have an incense stick stuck in them to make them smell nice! WHAT? How could she trick her only daughter that way??

Good night (183/365)

2011-07-01T22:04:00.000-04:00

Baby's Here! (182/365)

2011-06-30T22:04:00.001-04:00

My best friend asked me to a paint a picture for her baby's room. It took me a while to get started - I had to choose a subject that matched what she wanted but that was still "me." When I thought I had a good idea, I worked on sketches and took photographs of a reference point. It was slow going, but I reserved a day to start the painting that I thought would give me enough time to complete it before the baby arrived. The day that I had slated to finally begin the painting - the Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend - my friend went into labor. So a month later, I'm finally finished and I'm coming home this weekend to present it. Hope they like it!

Thanksgiving (181/365)

2011-06-29T18:03:00.001-04:00

Today's just about the last day of the fiscal year. Some of our funding was lost. (It wasn't cut so much as a held up in a perpetual waiting game.) So it was the last day for our housing counselor, who's losing his job as the new fiscal year begins.

My coworker, the bookkeeper, rounded us all up for a goodbye lunch and recruited us for the preparations. She had already brought spaghetti and rice and beans from home; what else could we contribute? I cut up some apples and oranges; someone got some roast chicken; I went to the bakery across the street and got five pieces of different cakes, so that everyone would have something that they liked.

I looked at the table and thought of Thanksgiving. With all of the little things we brought it was a feast, and it was a Thanksgiving in a way. Just since I've been here the counselor has helped so many people, and his clients have so much confidence in him. I could hear it in their voices when they called on his off-days, eager to talk to him and disappointed that he wasn't in. He spent a lot of time with each one of them, and it didn't matter how often they had to come back to have their case resolved; he would work until the end. So I'm very thankful for that, and I know his clients are too. It was a bittersweet Thanksgiving.

Walking Home (180/365)

2011-06-28T17:48:00.002-04:00

Almost there.

Self-Portrait 3, In Friend's Room (179/365)

2011-06-27T17:47:00.002-04:00

My friend came to stay with me for a little while, after one of my roommates was accepted to a grad program on the opposite coast. It was nice to have her here, in the room I started to think of as hers. Then her sojourn took her back to her family's house, where she is cozy and happy with her parents and sisters, amid a forest of green trees outside and steam from tea inside. A week after she left I stood in her doorway with the light from the hall behind me and felt a little forlorn.

Souvenir (178/365)

2011-06-26T17:47:00.000-04:00

Cool Beauty (177/365)

2011-06-25T17:46:00.000-04:00

Iceland Art (176/365)

2011-06-24T17:46:00.005-04:00

My last full day in Iceland! I'm glad to be staying in Reykjavík for the day.

I still get the sense that Reykjavík is a fishing village-turned-artists' colony. I really, really wonder what it's like to grow up here. I get the sense that in Reykjavík, everyone believes they can create and be whatever they want and that artistry is very much prized.

I went to Kjarvalsstadir, the branch of the Reykjavík Museum of Art that's dedicated to Johannes Kjarval and his legacy. He's something of a national treasure, and I could see why. His paintings of the Icelandic landscape captured the energy and motion of the landscape. They were enchanting and warm and inviting, even when they depicted snow and darkness.

I went to the gallery of the Icelandic Printmakers' Association and met the artist responsible for the current exhibition. Her work was fascinating: graphic representations of statistics like financial data from Iceland's economic collapse, mean temperatures in Reykjavík since the 1970s, and results of the happiest countries survey. It was so much fun to get to speak with her, too.

After that gallery I saw the second branch of the Reykjavík Museum of Art. It featured a spacious and curious installation on the intersection of philosophy and art. It explored the idea that works of art were not static displays but the accumulation of effects over time, and that the passing of time was part of the work itself. Etc., etc. It was thought-provoking.

Of course there's art all over the city in the form of murals - one of robots wrestling in space, one fashioned from hot pink chinks of metal in the shape of a giant drop of paint rolling down the side of the building.

And then there's fashion. I saw one lady step out of her car in front of my hostel, dressed in skinny metallic pants, high heels, and a thick, voluminous, abstract-patterned kimono-like jacket, her hair piled in an elegant ballerina bun. She went into the hardware store and emerged with a single paintbrush.

And amidst all the art and energy and boundless creativity the gulls spin and the cool sea air blows in, down the alleys and the streets of Reykjavík.

Look Around You (175/365)

2011-06-23T17:45:00.000-04:00

I took a ferry from the mainland to Vestmannaeyjar, a small chain of volcanic islands off of Iceland's south coast. The route was dotted green and black islands, cliffs black with rich soil and hills green with turf. As we came into the harbor at Heimay, the largest island, I was enthralled by the lava fields on the east side of the island. Some lupines and moss sprouted from or clung to the red rocks, but otherwise it looked like Mars. So that was what I thought Heimay was: red rocks, rough peaks.

When we entered the harbor I turned and faced the other side of the ferry. The bright blue sky sparkled against crisp, golden limestone; the green pastureland where sheep could graze rung the tops of the cliffs. It was so utterly different from the other side of the harbor, so utterly beautiful.

So I learned an important lesson, for life and for Photo 365: Observe all 360° of your surroundings.

Ice and Water (173/365)

2011-06-22T22:41:00.003-04:00

I had an absolutely fabulous day on Sólheimajökull, the glacier pictured at top.

If you want to see "my" beautiful glacier in motion or learn more about how climate change is affecting glaciers worldwide, please visit Extreme Ice Survey.

Riding (172/365)

2011-06-21T18:11:00.002-04:00

June 21st, the longest day of the year, and I'm in Iceland! (I wrote in my travel journal as sunlight poured in the window of the hostel at 11:00 pm.) There's this push and pull: the yellow, blue and red wooden houses and pine trees against the harbor and the piercing, thin sky; the fish stew and hand-knits, mix with the avant-garde: the billowy, asymmetrical jackets of the young women; riotous colors and murals, a forward-looking optimism. Iceland is in motion.

Sweden (Moving and Quiet) (171/365)

2011-06-20T23:37:00.000-04:00

Malmö, Sweden is only a half-hour's train ride from the Copenhagen airport. It was surreal to be in another county as soon as we were in Sweden, and despite the fact that it was only 30 minutes away from Denmark, it felt, looked, and soundly like a wholly different place.

Malmö had its own inner contrasts, too. Outside of the train station, I looked to the left and saw rooflines of old buildings, and to the right and saw cranes and towers. As I walked through the town I enjoyed Malmö's early morning bustle, an.amalgamation of busy-ness and silence. Postal carriers were delivering the mail in bicycles. Delivery trucks were bringing supplies to the restaurants. It was active but quiet, and enthralling.

I got lost so many times in Malmö. I never knew where I was going or even where the sidewalk ended and the street began. I only found the old square and the King's Garden by accident. I remember a tiny old lady walking along Lilla Torg (the little square). She clutched a metal cane with a green dot on the handle, and her legs were tiny, all bone and sinew. She took short steps with a look of absolute determination on her face.

The Haven (169/365)

2011-06-18T23:15:00.011-04:00

When I landed in Copenhagen I went to the ticket kiosk to buy a metro ticket. I could understand the Danish but not why my debit card wasn't accepted, so I tried to get cash. I didn't see an ATM but I did see a vending machine that accepted cards, so I tested mine. I somehow ended up with a 20-kroner coin, chocolate milk, and a candy bar, so my card worked, and then some. I found an ATM after easing through customs and withdrew a 500 kroner note, but the ticket vending machine only accepted coins. I bought postcards, but received more notes in return. The shop assistant pointed out a window where I could buy a ticket from a real person, so I did, and my first impression of Denmark was, "This place is a production."

My second impression of Denmark was the sea air that came in through the sliding glass doors of the metro train, and the coral-colored peaked roofs of the houses along the tracks. My third impression was of the city itself, scalloped peaks at the ends of brick buildings; brick lanes; bicycles upon bicycles. I dropped off my bag at the hostel and went back out in the misting rain; slipping around the canals, watching the red and white flags snapping in the breeze, feeling cozy with cups of tea and good spelt bread.

Keflavik, 1 AM (168/365)

2011-06-17T23:10:00.000-04:00

I never thought of the night as something geographic before, but I watched our plane's path on the video screen map, and it was clear that we would never cross into darkness. The sun was low when we flew out of Keflavik and few east into the dawn, always north or east of night.

Ready to Roll (167/365)

2011-06-17T03:09:00.000-04:00

Preparations (166/365)

2011-06-15T03:06:00.000-04:00

Yum (165/364)

2011-06-14T03:04:00.000-04:00

Sunset (164/365)

2011-06-13T03:00:00.000-04:00

Unity (163/365)

2011-06-12T23:01:00.062-04:00

Pentecost Sunday

Brothers and sisters:

There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit;
there are different forms of service but the same Lord;
there are different workings but the same God
who produces all of them in everyone.
To each individual the manifestation of the Spirit
is given for some benefit.

As a body is one though it has many parts,
and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body,
so also Christ.
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body,
whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons,
and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.

There were swarms of people at the first Christian Pentecost. If ancient Jerusalem was anything like my modern-day City of Cacophonous Sounds, those swarms of people probably cut off one another's carts and donkeys in traffic, stepped (literally) on each other's toes, tripped over each other's small children as they careered unexpectedly around corners, pushed each other in line at the olive oil stand, and generally gave each other exasperated, annoyed looks. The union of all of those people didn't necessarily lead to unity. Hearing the Apostles speaking in each of their native languages, we are told, brought them together in amazement, stopped them in their tracks as they looked at each other in wonder. The first Christian Pentecost delivered a message that they could all share.

Our homily today, this Pentecost, was about peace and unity. Just as the events of Pentecost ended the division of the Tower of Babel, our faith has the power to unify, heal, and end division. I was moved by the homily, and especially by the beauty of the second reading: we are all given life by the same Spirit; the same God moves within each of us.

There are so many people moving in the City of Cacophonous Noises. With all of the pushing and rushing and toe-stepping and tripping over small dogs, it's hard to remember our unity, our family. Every now and then we share a moment of unity: something funny happens on the subway, someone drops his keys (or spews the contents of her backpack across the sidewalk, cough cough, I wonder who did that) and bystanders stop to help pick up; somebody asks you for directions and you're actually able to help, and proud. With all these people crowding past you and around you, the opportunities for connection are greater, if you remember to be aware of them, and try not to be too grumpy.

The ironic thing is that, right after I took this picture, the train came, and out of nowhere five or six teenage girls shouted and giggled their way towards the door I was trying to enter. "Oh no," I thought to myself, "I'm not getting in that car." I scolded myself to think back on this reflection and the warm fuzzy feelings I got in church this morning.

Clean Sheets (163/365)

2011-06-12T02:54:00.000-04:00

Yarn Scene (162/365)

2011-06-11T10:03:00.001-04:00

We were bombed! Yarn bombed, that is. My best friend and I walked into my subway station yesterday to discover a little rainbow surprise: each turnstile swathed in crochet. I'd heard of guerrilla crocheting before, and my friend and I had even found a crocheted bicycle chained to a sign post earlier this spring, but I felt to honored that our little, humble station graced with yarn.

Today was International Yarn Bombing Day! Did you see any guerrilla knits or crochets near you?

Meh (161/365)

2011-06-10T00:20:00.000-04:00

Just not excited about either of my pictures today.

The title I thought would describe this photo doesn't match, on reflection (160/365)

2011-06-09T00:12:00.000-04:00

I guess I was sleepy.

Vertigo (159/365)

2011-06-08T23:07:00.001-04:00

This park is so much bigger than the Mostest Favoritest of All Time Sports Team's home. It was strange yet beautiful to see them here, as I miss them.

Blue Moon (158/365)

2011-06-07T00:15:00.001-04:00

Why do I do this to myself? (157/365)

2011-06-06T23:46:00.002-04:00

Wait until 11:00 to take a picture, that is.

Skyscrapers and Spiky Plants and the Color Yellow (156/365)

2011-06-05T23:35:00.000-04:00

Beaded (155/365)

2011-06-04T23:21:00.000-04:00

There were lots of beads in this flea market. There were heaps of Chinese beads shaped like coral, disarticulated, in between turtles carved in jade and translucent China cups. There was a set of matching beaded armchairs, in a bright black and white and green geometric pattern. And there were strands and strands of beads from Africa, heavy and dusty in my hands. Was that dust from Africa?

The Breath of Possibility (154/365)

2011-06-03T23:58:00.000-04:00

What I love best about spring is walking home from work in the light, feeling hope for the evening and the weekend.

Banana Ice Cream (15/365)

2011-06-02T21:18:00.000-04:00

Did you know you make ice cream without any technology (well, no technology other than a freezer) by mashing a frozen banana? Yep, it really works! It's delicious, and you could switch to this for all your ice cream needs, if you were satisfied with only banana-flavored ice cream.

Help me, sweet aloe! (152/365)

2011-06-01T21:16:00.001-04:00

Let the light in (151/365)

2011-05-31T20:17:00.000-04:00

Sunny Colors (150/365)

2011-05-30T09:14:00.000-04:00

Rooftop Sentinel (149/365)

2011-05-29T00:09:00.000-04:00

Summer Saturday (148/365)

2011-05-28T23:24:00.000-04:00

Lucky Shot (147/365)

2011-05-27T08:03:00.000-04:00

Whoa! My hermit crab was too distracted by her strawberry to notice that I was taking her picture. I never knew that she even liked strawberries so much! She rolled the entire berry out of the seashell food dish and was pulling off bite-size pieces with her claw. Pretty adorable, huh?

Rooftop (146/365)

2011-05-26T23:55:00.001-04:00

This is who I am (145/365)

2011-05-25T23:33:00.000-04:00

Well, that sounds like a terribly smarmy ad for athletic shoes, doesn't it? But as I was looking at my shoes just now I felt that way.

I wish I could have taken pictures on my run this evening. It was gorgeous and perfect, and it came at just the right time. While I walked home from work I was talking to my mom, and she could hear the noises from the busses and honking cars. She asked me if I was loving the bustling city life (which I got hooked on after my first field trip here in sixth grade). "Um, no." I said. "Not the noises. I tolerate them, but I don't like them. I like City of Constant Noises, but it's stressful living here." And I snuffled. And Mom listened. And then I told her I needed to go running before it got dark out.

There are so many things I love about my gorgeous hometown in my Peach Blossoms and Tidewater State, but the best thing is probably our parks. I could spend an entire summer running with my dark-haired friend and hardly have to repeat trails. The earth is soft and the green branches hang over each path and the sunlight is dappled over us. It's thrilling yet familiar, and I miss those trails. But Peach Blossoms and Tidewater State does not have the other amenities that City of Bustling Noise does, like round-the-clock access to public transportation and vegetarian restaurants, so I'm here.

So I laced up my shoes and I struck out to our Steel Grey River, my soles padding softly against the sidewalk, across the pedestrian crossing to the riverfront park. I was surprised at the beauty. The trees were bursting with leaves, and the Steel Grey River looked deep, sea blue. I broke off from the asphalt, and heard its waves against the rocks. I found an earthen path between the ball fields and the water, and I smelled the clover and the honeysuckle. It was the kind of experience I couldn't get most of the time in Shrimp Town, and I felt relieved. It was joyous.

My high school cross-country coach used to tell us that he felt most successful when he bumped into one of his students years later and she said she was still running. I left off running for a little while but this fall a new friend I made encouraged me to run with her, and it stuck. It felt like a homecoming. Running became part of me, and running now makes me feel like me. I'm a person who runs. And as I looked at the little bit of mud caked on the back of my Asics, I thought, "This is who I am."

Just for fun (144/365)

2011-05-24T01:11:00.003-04:00

Lonely Leche (143/365)

2011-05-23T23:21:00.000-04:00

Well, it's happened: my love affair with Lärabars is over. I usually go to Whole Foods after Irish class and stock up for the week. I also occasionally treat myself to dumplings from the salad bar and two Lärabars. I was excited because the Whole Foods in the edgy, really hip area of City of Keeping of Appearances sells them for a dollar, so I assumed that the Whole Foods by my class did, too. And I don't check my receipts. But today I only needed to buy milk, so I definitely noticed when my total was much higher than it should have been. $1.79 for smashed dates, yes, smashed dates with an alluring Key Lime Pie flavor, but none the less smashed dates?!? No, I'm not paying that. (I will, however, spend $4 on a dish of frozen yogurt later this week.) So my milk is lonely tonight.

Also, there are a lot of opportunities for other people to think I'm looney. First, I stand on the platform taking pictures of a bottle of milk inside a paper bag, over and over until I'm satisfied with the lighting. Then I get on the train and take out my Irish homework. It's impossible to study without moving my mouth. There I sit, mouthing "Beidh mé ag dul go dtí Baile Átha Cliath amárach ar a trí a chlog," until I think I can say all the words. What must people think of me?

Urban Forest (142/365)

2011-05-22T23:30:00.003-04:00

Street Haze (141/365)

2011-05-21T23:22:00.001-04:00

Startling (140/365)

2011-05-20T22:56:00.000-04:00

Remember the farm share? Well, I used my portion of the giant sweet potatoes, and there was a potato left, which I left in the milk crate underneath the kitchen table. It was one of those situations, I think, where each roommate thought the potato belonged to someone else. (I know for a fact, though, that it wasn't my potato!) So it went on living in the milk crate.

My roommate took some of the crates back today, and the potato emerged.

AAAGHGGHGH!!!! It's ALIVE!!!!

For Sale (139/365)

2011-05-19T22:44:00.000-04:00

A Protest (138/365)

2011-05-18T00:53:00.000-04:00

Peace (137/365)

2011-05-17T00:56:00.000-04:00

I feel at peace today.

Busy (136/365)

2011-05-16T22:59:00.000-04:00

Leftovers (135/365)

2011-05-15T00:08:00.000-04:00

New Roommate (134/365)

2011-05-14T00:05:00.001-04:00

Moonlight (133/365)

2011-05-13T23:14:00.000-04:00

Sunlight (132/365)

2011-05-12T22:49:00.000-04:00

Ack, ANOTHER Picture? Really, seriously, I have to take another one? (131/365)

2011-05-12T00:22:00.000-04:00

Scooter (130/365)

2011-05-10T00:21:00.001-04:00

Great Night (129/365)

2011-05-09T00:36:00.003-04:00

What a great night! First was Irish class; then Whole Foods had whoopie pies,* and I got a new tin of strawberry-chocolate red bush tea on sale. Then I had a movie waiting for me when I got home. Brilliant.

*Love ya, Maine, but I'm siding with Pennsylvania on this one.

Vignettes (128/365)

2011-05-08T23:55:00.000-04:00

Rooftops, Mid-day and Dusk (127/365)

2011-05-07T23:42:00.000-04:00

Friday night craft project! (126/365)

2011-05-06T11:04:00.000-04:00