Tag Archives: traveling

Toast! to Inspiration!

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted about what I’ve Toasted, so sitting down to share with you, Inspiration is the what I’ve been thinking about and here’s why.

This spring as Peter and I have been gearing up for our first Through the Wilderness, LLC production- a short action film about a Native American cop who is forced to deal with her feelings around miscarriage, motherhood, and justice when a dying hooker leaves her baby in her garage (btw, I LOVE this story but that’s a different posting) – I find myself attempting to develop a business mind while watching for the obstacle to my creative work that I fear this business mind will create.

I get that might not happen and perhaps this is just the work of my critic taking advantage of the change in my life to whisper more shit in my ear. I get that.  Yet, the reality is, the time I spend researching to understand…franchise taxes, accounting practices and deal memos and marketing strategies, is all time that I’m not writing.  And let’s be clear, before all this other business in my life, getting to the page to just write was hard enough to begin with. Sometimes.

But before I can go to the page, I need to be inspired, so what is that and where is it?

I’m at my messy desk, in my robe, blanket wrapped around my feet- yes, this is the glamourous life, and I ask myself where is that inspiration.  I look to books next to me. The Quran, Jon Kabat-Zinn Full Catastrophe Living, Ceremony by Leslie Marmon Silko, my bills to be paid, my bowl of nail polishes, crayons and greeting cards, The Ten Indian Commandments on my wall, my empty bowl that held oatmeal and berries, my now cold cup of green tea. Then I hear the birds outside. The hummingbird that flutters to my window and peeks in at me in the mornings has arrived. Outside my window beyond the bush, I see the new bistro size patio table and chairs, the big bright yellow and white umbrella, the expansion of my office. Then my mind travels outside our gate and down the street. The sky soft blue (yes, under the LA smoggy haze but stay with me here…smog is an inspiration, too, different post, different story), the palm trees create a landscape so different than home in MN, which I now see in my mind, the big oaks, the flat farmland alongside the highway to my mom’s, the tall cedars along the North Shore,  all so different than…awww…there it is- the places I’ve traveled this year, the people I’ve seen, the voices and languages, songs and food. O yes, the food. But there’s more that inspires me.

The last couple months have been filled with great joys and opportunities. Celebrations, one after another rolled through my life.  In May my daughter, Bird, graduated from college in San Francisco. Family met us in Santa Cruz for beach time, for little girl laughter and salt water taffy on the boardwalk. And in San Francisco, a beautiful city filled with rolling hills and tall skinny houses hugging at the shoulders, I had early morning moments on bagel runs for the family packed into the hotel suites. And in those mornings, with the sun on my face, feeling grateful for love and support, I felt inspiration, too. I did.

I listened to speakers at SFAI send the graduates out into the world with advice. Some was good. Most was daunting, but I saw fresh and slightly frightened young faces eager to run out and show us their world. And at the gallery, I saw my amazing Bird beaming in front of her painting, revealing to us, her family, what she learned about herself at school. And I was inspired by the depth of her creativity, by the young woman she’s become.

For her graduation gift, we took her to Tokyo. Yes- we are able to travel like that. A blessing beyond our wildest dreams.  While there, oh, the sounds and smells. I was often overwhelmed but yet, I had moments of sheer joy, moments of  being deeply awe-struck by beauty, like in Kamakura, the tiny beach village where the huge statute of Buddha lives.

While there, we walked to the shore. And standing on the “other side of the Pacific” while Peter waded into the water, I looked to my daughter and nearly fell over with love and admiration. The three of us inspires me. Our family in MN and across the country inspires me. Our journey that got us from the the tiny, poor little places we lived in while Bird was a baby, to that moment on the Japanese beach, inspires me. Yes. the memories will keep inspiring me, will keep my creativity alive.

So, the Toast! is to Inspiration whether it’s from the photos on the desk, a song on Spotify, the wee bird at the window, or a breeze that invokes a memory, inspiration is all around me.  And my wish for you is to be inspired by what’s in your life, what’s in your heart, what’s in your memories.

Peace.

 

Toast! to Calming Forces, like my Hus-b

Tuesday we made our way to Mexico.  Up at 3 am to get to the airport by 5:30, fly out at 7:30. We landed in Cancun and our adventure began. 

Our first destination is Chichen Itza- a place where I’m so open for transformation, I feel giddy and alive. I’m already shaking with vibrations!  I’ve been on this journey, this amazing, incredible hard-ass journey for awhile now. Years, really.  As an artist, I can feel how all that I’m healing and learning is shifting my writing. I’m thrilled. 

But to get here yesterday- we had to take a bus to downtown Cancun.  (guidebooks can be full o shit- there was no direct bus to here)  In downtown Cancun we bought a bag of gorditos, two Mexican Cokes and got a bus to Piste. FOUR AND A HALF HOURS.  yup.

But…as we stopped in every tiny little town, every roadside check point to pick up folks getting off work, people selling panuchos and candy, teenagers who made out in the backseat, old women with children, men who were finally relaxing, I saw a part of Mexico, this Yucatan area that I would not have seen if we hit that fast first class and just whizzed on over here.

The need for calming forces came just as we were heading into Piste, though.  We drove past the hotel which pricked at some panic. I was thinking the driver already knew we needed to stop there, but we had failed to tell him the hotel. We said Chichen Itza, so he drove 7 km farther to the town of Piste. And it was raining. Pouring. Sheets of rain.  Panic grew. I complained to Peter that would never get a cab. How the hell would we get back to our hotel. He’s gonna drop us off in the middle of that tinyass town and then what? I wasn’t walking 7 km in the freakin rain dragging my suitcase. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Peter calmly told me baby don’t worry. It will be alright.

We got dropped off. In the middle of a tinyass town. In the pouring rain.  As Peter got our luggage out from luggage compartment on the side of bus, the bus driver stood on the steps to avoid getting wet and waved to me…like, what are you standing there looking at me for? Go now. I tried to ask him for a taxi. Did I mention I don’t speak Spanish??  But my loving, now drenched husband does. I ran to the entry of a market with my suitcase. I dug out my raincoat,my umbrella, and continued cussing. The bus drove away. And across the street, next to a bus going in the opposite direction, was Peter, talking fast to the driver. He hollers to me Baby it’s okay!

He runs to me, grabs his suitcase and backpack. I grab my bag, camera case and suitcase and follow him across the street.

I didn’t stop to look for traffic. I realized that much later that I just ran out into the street and didn’t even look. Obviously I was okay. I was just wet. Big deal. I may think I’m sweet at times but I sure as hell don’t melt!  lol!

But once we got dropped off at our hotel, looking like a couple of drowned alley cats, we made our way to our bungalow.  

Then, though, we found out we missed the restaurant by about 5 minutes. Kitchen closed.  We had KIND bars from traveling. And water. And gum. And breath mints.  If that was my dinner I was going to cry.  But Peter, again, my calming hero, went to the kitchen and asked them for anything.  

Bliss came bout 10 minutes later when we sat on the beautiful patio, eating hot ham and cheese sandwiches on bread that tastes like my grandmas, and sipping ice cold Sol beer.  

So, the Toast for Tuesday goes to Calming Forces, like Peter, my hus-b. 

Happy Anniversary, Baby. 

 

Peace

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