Cookies

I don't really understand why, but I cannot stop thinking of one of my favorite (store-bought) cookies today: Leibniz Cookies. These cookies are a crisp, buttery shortbread topped with a slab of delicious dark, bittersweet chocolate. They are not overly sweet and are immensely satisfying. I also love the fact that the cookies bear the name of the great philosopher and founder of Calculus.

Banished

I love my children. I love the people they are right now. Yes, they fight. They also play delightfully together. It's all good. It seems like daily the kids say something that causes me to stop in my tracks. Lauren, age 3, announced that she was going to "banish Graham to the highest tower." It was well timed and perfectly delivered. Okay then, Ms. Lauren.

Monthly?

Oh my. It's almost as if I've forgotten I have a blog. I look at the recent posts and see they're MONTHLY. Not good blog commitment. Geesh.

Taking the writing class meant I was writing on paper, not the web. I also hit a rather intense patch of business travel. And, hey, life gets busy with a husband, two careers, two kids, two dogs, etc.

I realize I've been in the mode of taking in, versus reflecting out. I've been reading books and magazines voraciously, listening to audio books, reading blogs by the dozen. All those words and images going in, filling me up, seemingly endlessly. Now it seems time to reverse that trend.

I have been thinking about what this blog should be. I don't have a single theme but neither does my life. I do want to be posting images online. Of course, that requires picking up the camera--a good thing. It also challenges me to draw, something I've been reading about and want to put into action.

I struggle with getting these pages to do what I want, to look the way I want. I'd like to be posting more reviews of what I'm reading, have read, and have queued up. Getting the Amazon links is still a bit of a procedure. I struggle with how to get in-line links (and haven't won that battle yet). I sometimes look lustily at blogs from Typepad--they're more visual and seem to show links effortlessly.

Ah well, here's to re-engaging. Let's see where this road leads.

Sweet Sorrow

I just finished my last class in a series on food writing at Stanford University; it is a bittersweet day indeed. The title of the course is "Soup to Nuts," the professor is Jeanette Ferrary. For the last five weeks, I have thought hard, done research, and written essays. It has been terrific, a bit like stretching heretofore undiscovered muscles. Alas, all good things must end and today marked the end of the class. We celebrated with food and shared words (what else, for a class of food writers). I appreciate the feedback and inspiration from my colleagues. I have the utmost respect for the experience and insight of our instructor, Jeanette. Want a great read? Check out Jeanette Ferrary's Out of the Kitchen: Adventures of a Food Writer (her memoir) and M.F.K. Fisher and Me (her perspective on a special relationship with the legendary M.F.K. Fisher). For me, I expect more time at the keyboard. Trust me, that's a good thing.

Did I Miss Something?

I have been surfing around this morning exploring blogs linked from favorite sites. I came to the activity happy. I was surprised at the number of blogs I have found that are closing, ending, ceasing to be. Right now. This very day (or so). is there an anti-blog movement? Are people just tired? Are they out of words? I enjoy the glimpses into others' worlds: their thinking, their images, their expressions. I hope this connected space does not fade.

Checking In, Albeit Lightly

I'm feeling the need to comment on progress--both forward and not--with The Artist's Way.

What's working for me is reading the book and tackling at least two to three exercises each week. As I've said before, Cameron's tone often makes me feel like I should be coming from a wounded or at least denied place. I simply don't feel that. If I've been less than I could be creatively, it's more a case of benign neglect than anything else. I enjoy the exercises . . . especially imagined lives. I really am making progress taking steps to bring those imagined and desired lives into the present, step by step. I've taken the haiku workshop at Stanford. I'm registered for a class in food writing beginning April 4. Yes, it's out of my comfort zone. No, on the surface of it, I don't have the time. However, I need to do this. My wonderful husband is supportive. Hey, I have nothing to lose.

The Artist's Dates are a big win for me. Despite work, family, and a harried schedule, I have no trouble carving out time for the Artist's Dates. I love them. They give me real joy and a sense of space that carry me through the week. Planning those little escapes is pure magic.

I'm still struggling with morning pages. I've come to realize that journaling and free writing are immensely valuable. I need to keep at this. I'm not sure whether I'm resisting because there's a barrier there I don't want to deal with or whether I really just am crazed from a time perspective. I realize there is value in this daily writing and will find a way to do it.

At the moment, I can say the Artist's Way has truly propelled me to experiencing new things and new thoughts, staking out more time for myself, stretching my thinking about who I am and what I want to be, seeing the value in regular personal expression, and accumulating a variety of Moleskine journals.

Not bad. I'll call this a win. I'll also be looking to revisit parts of the the Artist's Way to deepen the experience and looking to the community for other worthwhile explorations.

The big next goal is to start drawing. More on that soon.

Sadly, Another One Bites the Dust

I just learned that one of my favorite book sellers, A Common Reader, is no more. They did business through their catalog and website. I could not have wished for a more articulate and interesting partner in finding new and interesting books. From "thumping good reads" to staff recommendations to challenging new work, A Common Reader was always smart, reliable, and right on target. They leave a void that I cannot imagine how I will fill.

It was only late last year that Keplers, a Menlo Park bookselling institution, declared bankruptcy. The good news for Keplers is that they were able to put together a group of angel investors and stage a comeback. I try to support them with my purchases at every turn. Understandably, their stock is more limited than before but still a good experience.

I hate that original, independent booksellers are increasingly being put out of business. Their idiosyncratic voices are valuable ones. I am truly saddened by the growing lack of these sages in the world of books.

Mama Says Om Theme: 20 Things

At Mama says Om this week, the theme is to list 20 things about yourself. I can do that. So here we are.

Note that the capitalization is meant to complement a staggered layout on the page that didn't quite translate to the Blogger environment. C'est la vie.

20 Things (in no particular order) . . .

I love BOOKS

I collect FOUNTAIN PENS, which I use, and JOURNALS, which I too often don’t

I enjoy the ritual of using INK FROM A BOTTLE

I love PHOTOGRAPHY—both MAKING pictures and LOOKING at others’ work

I am trying to learn to DRAW

I could not survive without AUDIO BOOKS, PODCASTS, and NPR

I FLIRT with technology

I adore my husband MARK and my two children, GRAHAM and LAUREN

I desperately want to RENOVATE MY HOUSE

I am INSPIRED by WORDS and want to write

I have LIVED in Decatur, IL, Chicago, IL, Brooklyn, NY, Seattle, WA,
Tokyo, Japan, Rochester, NY, and Palo Alto, CA.

I consider WINE a food group

I love to COOK and confess to being a foodie

I love things JAPANESE

I am promiscuous with TOOTHPASTE brands

I dislike being BAREFOOT

I enjoy my two big, lumbering LABS, Hamish and Isla

I think God intended BAGELS to be savory and MARTINIS to be made only with gin or vodka and vermouth, an olive or a twist of lemon

I love getting up EARLY in the morning and seeing the SUN rise

I sincerely try to do GOOD THINGS in this world

Checking In--The Artist's Way, Weeks Four and Five

I'm running behind in the AW. I'm okay with it. I have to be. I'll catch up and this is the week.

First, the good news. My Week Four Artist's Date was nothing short of terrific. Stanford offered a haiku workshop for an afternoon and I jumped at it. I found our instructor, Gary Gach, had a quiet but strong presence. He provided a good foundation for the mechanics and the beauty of haiku. Importantly, he was clear about not being bound by the form (e.g., 5-7-5 syllables) if something worked better--even if that something were a single line. Then we walked and wrote. We walked all of 100 feet into a grove of trees. I walked 100 feet or less and had a whole universe open up to me. I wrote a number of poems. We returned to class and Gary read our chosen poems, aloud. This was a first for me. This was stepping outside my comfort zone in a big way. I admit that it felt great.

The two poems I shared with the class are as follows:

Vinca majora
Five purple petals
Signal spring ahead

and, with Gary's advice and counsel,

Reaching across chasm
Of twinned redwood trees
The spider's web

I sincerely hope we have the chance to do another workshop. The afternoon was a pleasure. Whenever I feel the notebook in my pocket, my spirit soars. I will keep seeing and writing.

Week Five was simply lost to me. My father-in-law passed away. My focus has been on my husband, where it needs to be. I hug my children a bit more tightly and whisper "I love you" a bit more frequently. This is a new part of life's journey for us. This is a source of much reflection for me.

No Complaints

Today'sWeather.JPG
Originally uploaded by sharon_delman.

For the second day in a row, my flight from San Francisco to New York City has been cancelled. Completely cancelled. No chance to get out and get to work. I can enjoy this (see photo) or keep struggling to get to NYC and the 22+ inches of snow in Central Park (not that I wouldn't like to see that). Go ahead, twist my arm. I'm staying put. I'm getting to like this California thing.

Checking In--The Artist's Way--Week Three, Recovering a Sense of Power

This has been a fairly consistent week with regard to the ATW. I still struggle with morning pages. My artist's date was great. I visited Miki's Paper in Berkeley; this is a store I must have passed a hundred times but it was closed, I was in a hurry, etc. The store sells beautiful paper, in notebooks, in sheets, in picture frames, in paperweights. It is as good as a trip to Japan.

Suprisingly, I didn't buy anything. I didn't need to. This is a first for me. I looked, I enjoyed, I reminsiced about my time in Japan. However, I'm well-stocked on notebooks, photo albums, paper, etc. It was just wonderful to enjoy a visual feast and think about my favorite places in the world.

I was hoping for synchronicity this week. It didn't appear in any expected form. Danny Gregory is doing a new sketch crawl in NYC; alas, I'm scheduled for travel there exactly one week late. I did a fantastic Artist's Date on Saturday (technically, Week Four), taking a haiku class at Stanford. I was simply amazed by the degree to which our instructor (Gary Gach, an established poet and teacher) saw the same things I did (or vice versa), albeit expressed a bit differently. Maybe that's sufficient.

More about the Artist's Date (Week Four) to come, including poetry to share. Here's to discovering a "Sense of integrity." And here's to a significant breakthrough: I'm comfortable writing and sharing poetry. Who knew?

The Artist's Way, Week Three: Discovering a Sense of Power

As I work through Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, I find myself responding less to the negative aspects of blocked creativity and more to the positive or potential aspects of unleashing creativity. I'm trying to select a quote for each week to guide my thoughts. This week, my quote is from Loius Pasteur who said "Did you ever observe to whom the accidents happen? Chance favors only the prepared mind."

Checking In--The Artist's Way, Week Two

The theme for "The Artist's Way" this week is Recovering a Sense of Identity. This week, I learned more about myself. I guess that's "mision accomplished."

First up, morning pages are a struggle. I already get up at 5:00 a.m. (ish) to get a jump on the commute and get into the office early. Trying to layer morning pages onto that is tough. When I get home, it's time to be Mom. That puts a damper on what could be "evening pages." I do have a Moleskine daily journal and that is space where I can be a bit more present . . . but it's not three pages worth. Nevertheless, morning pages are a worthy goal and I'll keep trying. Part of what may help is not just writing whatever is on my mind but working through Cameron's exercises at those times. I hope that's not at cross purposes for the morning page process.

I am beginning to embrace the affirmations Cameron suggests. At first, I was skeptical . . . period. As I read and reflect on her words, I do feel a shift in my attitudes. This feels very New-Agey to me but I'm open to it. I especially like the taking care of quantity and surrendering the quality. This speaks to being present and trying. Everything else flows from that effort.

I realize I need to be rather fierce about my time. With work, kids, husband and general life stuff, it's easy to do everything and accomplish nothing. Living with more intent is a key goal for me. Carving out space for myself is critical. I'm aware enough of my priorities to know where I have flexibility and where I have less. The answer is not in trading off family time; my family is an inspiration to me. In fact, one of my wished-for lives is to be a child again. My kids have such a wonderful exuberance and headlong enthusiasm. Good stuff to learn from. I have a long commute, about an hour each way. I listen regularly to audio books on the drive. I just need to make sure those choices are feeding my creativity and addressing those "impoverished areas" of life wherever possible.

My artist date this week was a cooking date . . . making Portugese Caldo Verde, a simple soup with potatoes, kale, and chorizo. Despite the simple approach, I tried to focus on each step, to notice the extraordinary green of the kale, the flecks of red papper in the chorizo, and the green glisten of the olive oil. The soup was magnificent and I felt wonderful cooking it.

I look forward to exploring more goals and the immediate actions that can lead to achieving them. I am enjoying the idea of imaginary lives. I very much respond to the "tiny change" philosophy. I did respond actually, submitting a photograph of a pink aster for this week's Photo Friday challenge.

On to Week Three and Recovering a Sense of Power.

Checking In--The Artist's Way, Week One

Week One of The Artist's Way has concluded. This is going to be a fast, twelve-week trip if Week One is any indication. It's going to be a challenge to not be carried along by sheer momentum but rather to engage with each moment, each day, each week.

So how did I "do" during Week One? I'd say okay, not great.

Morning pages . . . clearly not 100%. The week started strong but two sick children, followed by a sick husband, and an increasingly intense week at work left me falling short. At one level, I wanted perfection. However, I'm willing to live with less than perfection. At least I'm putting words on a page and I've never really done that before. I'll call that progress.

My Artist's Date came to me, with a large box from Photo-Eye books arriving on the doorstep. A glass of wine, silence and a host of new photography books can engage me like nothing else. What can I say but "ah . . . ." The challenge is to be inspired to go take more photographs myself; that is a worthy goal.

My five "other" lives came easily: a monk, for simplicity, focus, and being in community; a writer, for the sheer joy of expression; a professor, for the joy of disseminating knowledge and asking good questions; an artist--any medium--for the passion to pursue a vision; a chef, for the passion to experiment, create and nurture through food.

My actions following the "other lives" exercise include: challenging my business teams to confront tougher questions, challenging them to find the big idea in their work, writing wherever and whenever I can, and, of course, cooking to nurture my family and myself.

All in all, this was not a bad week, by any means. Cameron writes of "A Return to Safety." I'm not sure that this theme resonated as much with me as this coming week's theme "A Sense of Identity" will. My path has been less about what is denied and more about what is embraced. I'm looking forward to the stronger sense of identity as a creative person.

A Little Spooky

Friday the 13th. A hauntingly beautiful full moon. Weird energy. I couldn't help commenting on the strangeness in the air today.

Blogging the Artist's Way

I can't quite believe I'm actually doing this but I am. I read the intro Chapters to The Artist's Way last week and am digging into Week 1 right now. What a great way to begin the New Year.

One of the cornerstones of the program is Morning Pages, three longhand pages each and every day. So far, I'm on track. I thought "hey, three pages can't be too hard." I realize now "three pages is a long journey, with some very big silences." The good news is that I am finding my voice. Writing longhand is a different experience than writing at the keyboard. It seems to have a greater connection to my head and heart. I'll be shifting over a fountain pen tomorrow; I don't know why I started using a rollerball. As a fairly enthusiastic fountain pen collector, I have about seventy pens to choose from. There's no excuse for not having a great pen at hand.

The Morning Pages seem to be singular exercise. I'm not sure whether we go back and mine them for information or insight. Cameron recommends sticking the pages in an envelope. I have a standard notebook for the purpose.

I am excited about the Moleskine journals I have for the new year. I have the daily calendar (large size) so that I can make notes, musings and observations on the day. This will help with my goal of being more present every day. I also have a blank Moleskine (large size) for drawings, projects, lengthier thoughts and reflections. I keep reading comments from the Moleskine obsessed that these little notebooks work magic all their own. I'm looking forward to falling under their spell.

That's all for now. Dinner awaits.

Welcome, Welcome 2006!

How else to begin other than with a hearty "Happy New Year!" Of course, "Akemashite Omedeto Gozaimasu" (Happy New Year in Japanese) works just as well. The Japan connection is worthy of a different post entirely. The New Year always takes me to Japan where the holiday is revered and celebrated with singular symbolism and zest.

I've spent a wonderful week with my two children, enjoying them and seeing the world through their eyes. It really is the simple things that give great delight . . . running in the park, climbing the monkey bars, swinging high, reading books, singing, jumping everywhere, having exactly what you want for breakfast, drawing page after page of "mysterious creatures" (Thanks, Graham and Lauren).

I always feel a bit of hesitation at the beginning of the New Year. There is a little bit of anxiety for me at this time, driven by things both done and undone. However, this year I have a new attitude. It's all about being present, of experiencing the moment. The great news is that I'm finally DOING something about it--not just thinking about it.

I have registered with an internet group to blog the Artist's Way (Julia Cameron)--thanks to KatsPaws. I truly cannot wait to experience the creative energy from this undertaking and am incredibly excited; I also admit to being a little intimidated by the fact that people will actually see this blog . . . and a lot more of me. I'll post links and logos for the experience as soon as I figure out how to make my blog pages bend to my will.

I've committed to a more creative, more engaged year. Over the holiday, I read Danny Gregory's The Creative License and found his advice and encouragement incredible. I will journal and I will draw this year. You cannot read his book and not want to crack open a sketchbook and try.

I've also found a terrific website called 43Things.com. (I'll link as soon as I figure out how . . . ). The idea is very simple . . . you chronicle what you want to do. At the same time, thousands of other people are doing the same and you can see where there is linkage and where there is not. More than numbers, I've found the process of saying "I want to do this" or "I want to go here" incredibly affirming and motivating. I drop into this space and update my list with surprising regularity. Some goals are short term, others are long term but at least they're in front of me and ready for action.

I cannot tell what the year ahead will hold. I can tell you that I will live it with greater intention. Here's to new beginnings!

Happy!

Today is the first day since 1929 that Christmas and the first night of Chanukah have been on the same day. That works just fine for my little interfaith family. We'll take the opportunity to celebrate--twice.

This is very much a "back to basics" holiday season. Graham (4 1/2) and Lauren (2 3/4) are still young enough to want simple things. Graham asked for more books and more art supplies. Lauren didn't even ask . . . if it's Dora or Hello Kitty, she's overjoyed. We delivered for the little ones in spades, going above and beyond with musical offerings--keyboard, guitar, and small lap harp. Graham won't put the guitar down and that is a very, very good sign. Grandma MaryAnn and Grandpa Ralph delighted Lauren with a Dora blanket . . . the best gift of her day. She's been happily wrapped in pink and purple all day.

On this day of family, of love, of hope, I offer the wish of Peace, of Shalom.

Things Japanese

I just finished reading a trio of (loosely) Japan related books.

First up was David Mas Masumoto's Four Seasons in Five Senses. Masumoto is an organic farmer in California's Central Valley and a terrific writer. The book is a series of essays that chronicle farming as much as living. He celebrates his history, his family, and the hard labor that produces his peaches and raisins. Reading the book is like taking a long walk with an articulate and philosophical friend. He writes lyrically of his Suncrest peaches and I'll be searching for them during peach season.

Ever the mystery fan, I read Sujata Massey's The Typhoon Lover. This is the latest in the Rei Shimura series. The books are fast paced. I enjoy mysteries with female heroines and Shimura is a nice balance of guts, anxiety, determination, and style. I've followed the series from the first book so picking up the sixth was a natural.

Finally, I read Karin Muller's Japanland: A Year in Search of Wa. This is a quick and easy read covering Muller's year off to find herself and a sense of balance and harmony in Japan. It is not a quick and easy process for her. She moves through a series of funny and touching experiences that ultimately give her good insight into the magic of place and a better sense of what she values.

My husband and I spent time studying in Japan as part of our grad school experiences. I still can't get enough of things Japanese.

I am grateful . . .

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, a true feast day. Cousins visiting. Intense cooking. Hubby handled the deep fried turkey and grilled salmon. I provided roasted root vegetables, Delicata squash with cranberries, Mom's (and Grandma's) oyster stuffing (with variations), pears poached in port. We also enjoyed an organic French Camembert, Cypress Grove Chevre Pyramid, French Agour, and Spanish Manchego. And Califonia wine . . . red Zin and a Chardonnay. Mmmmmm.

Today has been a leisure day of snuggling with the kids, reading and general laziness. A person needs that now and then.

I also have been reflecting today on what I am grateful for . . . my family--husband, children, and hounds, a sense of curiousity and wonder, my health, challenging work. Simply put, life is good. I am richly blessed.