Journeying and journaling on…

As those who have read me before know, I write because I love to share or, perhaps, I share simply because I love to write. However, I have been going through a bout of writer’s block. An article that I have promised my editor of www.better-lemons.com and the people I interviewed for it, remains unfinished. I grew tired of my computer screen mocking me with its blankness and decided, camera in hand, to take a walk. I am hoping this will guide me back to my keyboard and to getting things written.

Today I don’t feel like driving (unusual for me), so Baby Bright, aka: my Prius will remain parked in front of the house. Besides, I do not want to deal with having to find a parking spot. Not that I ever do, but neither do I want to take a bus  and since I am lucky enough to temporarily reside in Venice, where the best way to really get around is on foot, I head out.

I would have missed a lot of fun images this neighborhood has to offer if I were not walking, like these circus-worthy bikes parked in front of a nondescript house.

Right from the start a smile finds its way to my face as I read a few license plates.

Not only am I a vegan but I am hot!

I may not be a vegan but I’m hot too.

The first one also gives me a pang of nostalgia, reminding me of my Baby Blue, my previous Prius and a bond with it that I will never have with another. But back to Venice… This is a town of unabashed self-promotion, self-confidence and righteousness. Where most are a size 2 (or 4, at the most) which I will never be again which takes me, as I walk, on to the edge of that badland of doubtful self-esteem.

It is also a giving town,   (So polite as well, the small sign says “Hello and Good Day! Please…) inclusive of all,  artful (There are hardly any blank walls, most have murals on it, some advertising something, others just leading you to a zen place and others expressing social justice.),

    

with a real sense of humor and one that cares for its fauna.    

 I have entered the Venice Canals,   an area of Venice that I love. I am very much aware that due to my lack of sense of orientation, it is also an area that I may get lost in. I won’t mind though, for there’s a tranquility here that takes me to my quiet place. Quite an accomplishment since I tend to be a chatterbox.

Right off the bat there’s a “Yes indeed!” in my head as I read a sign.  

More than focusing on the canals themselves,

where swans become boats on steroids,  or just a canvas for reflections of palm tress,

I delight myself on the pop of color provided by the fact that it’s spring and flowers are blooming     

Even the boats are trying to match them. 

This little plant would be a perfect little Christmas tree  that would go really well with this deck that seems to have a bit of seasonal identity problem. 

I love that on the canals an open space becomes a place to advertise creatively your art. This one certainly managed to catch my attention and I did go to this artists’ sites once home.  An abandoned post on the same lot also an opportunity to display art. 

I enjoy the quirkiness of some canal facing decks. 

Here, minimalist modern architecture and make-believe old new construction still live side by side with the old bungalows though there are fewer and fewer around since it’s an area where houses for sale start at 1.5 million and where one sold last year for 5.5 million.

All display some sort of art and my eyes stop at each façade searching for it.

This bridge reminds me that I live in a city where sets are common for this one IS a facade that in true LA mode sports an inspirational/positive quote of “No regrets. No bad days.”

Two hours later I manage to leave heading towards the busier part of Venice. First a walk on the pier. I really enjoy piers.

A brief look at the sea.  How does the saying go? A couple that surfs together stays together?   Maybe not.

And then off to find a place to eat as I get more inspiration from store windows. Reminders that, yes, I’m still in LA.  

Reflections that further remind me that I am in Venice.

And then… Thailand.  

I find a place that has an outdoor patio, a cheap lunch and that makes me want to be back in Asia even after this most enjoyable morning.

  

On my way back home my eyes don’t rest and fill my brain with images I can’t disregard. I love blue.

I again smile for in this town the garbage cans/bins are not only multi-lingual but a perfect place for art.  

Where a convenience stores looks like it’s still in construction from afar until you get closer and see that’s the way it was painted.  And where a lone street sunflower reminds me that one should always look up and you will shine.

At the door… thanks for coming along.

 

 

Fog Guides Me Back to What I Love

It suddenly gets dark in my home office and as I glance out my window I see… nothing.  An afternoon fog has cloaked the beach and the pier and has made them invisible.  I’ve been yearning for a reason to stop doing what I should be doing and haven’t started doing so in a move I have not done in a long time, I reach for my camera, get my iPod and head out without a second thought.

As I walk out to the pier the fog is still thick but it doesn’t stop the fishermen from going to their usual spot.

The lifeguards wouldn’t be able to see much if they were at their post.

The Belmont Veterans Memorial Pier in Long Beach is home to homeless, to fishermen, to seagulls, pelicans (and many other, unidentified by me, species), tourists, photographers and more.

But I am interested in what happens below it so I take the path downwards.  Where the fog does not seem to interrupt daily activities.

 

    

I don’t follow the path.  I go under the pier.   

First I look across,  delaying what I am sure will delight my camera and myself.  And it indeed does  

   

Am I somewhere else?  I must look back and check.   

And once I’m sure I am not lost I once again enter trancelike state.   

But my beach is being invaded…  

So I look the other way.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

To a spot of the beach where birds can play (or fight).   

Stare…    Where love is present and blind.  

Where a congregation is not unruly.

Well, maybe just a tad…

Where people come to de-stress…

Or ignore the waves and the beach altogether…

Where unfortunately, man leaves his tracks…

Where a father and son bond in daily exercise and share their path with seagulls…   

 I go back to the magnet that the pier has turned out to be for my camera.      On my way there these flowers on their last breath stop me in my tracks.  Is it an offering to Iemanjá, the Queen of the Ocean, in Brazilian culture?       So much to photograph I don’t seem to be able to still my mind or my steps.          So I go up the pier to where I started.  

 

 

Where I am reminded that I really haven’t been traveling at all.  

 

 

   

But somehow I do feel as if I have taken a short trip and as I leave the pier I feel recharged and ready to tackle what I had procrastinated in doing.    

Maybe…

 

 

 

 

The Trip That Almost Wasn’t Starts Wiith a Soak

Some trips are a sure thing and even as they are they may not be.  Isn’t that the way life is?  The journey is never a straight line from point A to point B.  Sometimes there are so many sidetracks that you almost feel your destination wasn’t meant to be.   That is the way this trip was.

Baby Blue (aka: my Prius) is all ready to go.  I and he are at our best and happiest heading out into the horizon.   Our little family unit of  Baby Blue, Daisy (the sexy GPS), and I head to the airport where we will pick up the fourth component of the family.  Tutu stayed home due to a lack of planning on my part and having forgotten to put him in the car.

We are headed to a soak in the most  mentally and physically healing waters close to Los Angeles.   Desert Hot Springs is a 2 hour drive from Los Angeles Airport (LAX), where I pick up Dean, and a world away.  Our destination is Two Bunch Palms and its hot mineral springs.   I did a program on this resort almost 13 years ago and I am curious as to how it holds up to the amazingly Zen feeling it provided me even in the midst of production and scheduling woes.

Villa #17 Entrance

I have checked in the night before, not willing to hassle through check-in early in the morning.   A full report/review can be found on my blog: Life Lived and Reviewed.

Our backyard:   

The resort is at capacity.  Not exactly what I wanted or expected but it will do.  It still gives me a good feeling to see a baby elephant (albeit in statue form) in the tranquil grounds.   And frankly a late night immersion and float in the hot mineral springs grotto releases all my tense muscles and hesitations.  This was for sure a good way to start our venture to Europe.

Breakfast (in our robes) with a beautiful view of the mountains  makes us feel a bit  more gelatinous than the solid mass of bones and muscles we actually are.   We top it off with another long soak before we head back to Los Angeles and to packing for our London, Paris, Berlin and wherever-else-our-heart-points-us-to jaunt.

And So It Starts…

2013 has started.   It’s around 12:30 am and we find out that there may not be much of a bus service to the Overlake Station where we left the Prius.  After waiting a bit we stick our hand out and a taxi materializes.  The driver is big and bubbly and has a Tom Petty CD blaring on the stereo.  Traffic leaving the city is pretty heavy and he tells us he won’t turn the meter on until we are on the freeway.  I’m liking him already.  Our cab fare will be around $40.  We are not sure of the exit and neither is he so we end up paying around $50 which he almost didn’t want to charge us ’cause he messed up.  An honest cab driver.  Guess the New Year has greeted us in a good way.  Baby Blue is alone except for another car in the parking lot at 2 am and is covered in a not so thin sheet of ice.  Yep, it’s cold.

As expected we rise late on January 1st 2013.  What is left of it will be spent on the computer and lazing around.  We decide to go out walking to dinner where there is a mall and Firenze, an italian restaurant that is open tonight.  Food was really good and service excellent.

The second day of the year was to be spent lunching with a friend  Ramon Shiloh which I haven’t seen in years since we were mentors for the Young Native American Playwrights Program.  He is a wonderful artist, illustrator, and storyteller.  He has a book published and one out soon: Listener.   Unfortunately it wasn’t meant to happen. We’ve been a bit under the weather and exhausted. Another day of lazing around it is.

The third day of the year finds us in our tourist mode.  It’s the first Thursday of the month and the Seattle Art Museum (among others) has free admission.  It’s close to where the Underground Tours are so as they say in my neck of the woods we are going to “matar dos pájaros de un tiro” (to kill two birds with one stone) Disclaimer: I am not advocating any violence against animals or anything of the like… it’s a saying that has existed for eons.

We drive to the Overlake Station   and go on the bus to downtown.

I like how the buses are accordion-like and bend in the middle. 

As we cross the bridge it looks like we are inches from the water.

   Wait a second, are we in San Francisco?  Some roads are steep!

I’m liking the architecture of this city.  

  The Smith Center, built in 1916, is a beauty.  It has an outdoor observation deck which we did not go up to.

It’s cold.  Somehow that fact is really diminishing my enjoyment of this city.  This city is grey even on sunny days!  It has earned its reputation as the Suicide Capital of the world. The cold and the rain and the lack of sunshine is conducive to depression but as this link  states it isn’t even on the top 10. It also debunks other myths about states and cities. Fun read.

The Underground Tour is about to start.  They have us congregated in this really old bar.  Solid wood, defying time to lessen its stance.  The guide, Gail, is funny but I concentrate on the floor.  Love the tiles.

We go outside and I look up.   We are going into the bowels of the city and I concentrate on what’s on top.  Just being a bit contrarian here. But I love old buildings.

I adjust my directional rebellion by looking across the street and liking the iron bus stop pavilion.  

And down we go. 

And my attention is grabbed by this sad seat, tattered and faded holding no vibrancy in its color or plushness in its seat.    I imagine it in the lobby of a theater surrounded  by rustling skirts, colors and overall excitement.

The floors are unleveled and sinking in parts.    We are given a lot of info on the building and rebuilding of the city and on its history, all in the context of a comedy routine that is a bit too much, but she is funny and makes it entertaining. We go back up before going back down but I’m so used to looking down that I spot another set of tiles   that I like in front of what professes to be the oldest restaurant in Seattle.

Steam Baths lower level… 

We are now under a skylight.   Glass made circa 1800’s – it turned purple with age. sk

We head back up.  

And here is a skylight from above.  

My stomach is grumbling as usual and we go to a Cajun restaurant close by.  A nice hot gumbo sounds just like the best antidote to the cold.  The place, Marcela’s Creole Cookery, is a hodgepodge of decorating.   But the gumbo does warm me up and I got some colorful beads as a send-off.

Before we go to the Art Museum we decide to stop at Seattle’s Central Library.  I’m glad we did.  The building is structurally stunning and massive.       

Today, surprise of surprises, it’s a grey day but on a sunny day it must be so stunning to see it from within with all the angles this place has.  And a really stormy rainy day probably creates quite a symphony in here.

The colors inside are pretty cool.             

Just in case you are wondering (as I did for a minute) if this really is a library, here is a librarian to go with it.

The world in books at your fingertips.  

Futuristic, eh?

    

I almost want to stay.  Cocoon myself with a book and let the hours pass without notice.  But I bid my farewell by taking a few more shots of its facade.           

Seattle Art Museum  is now at our feet. And above us, some flying Fords with lights coming out of every opening in an explosion exposure.  

I like that the museum has a large quantity of Native American and Aboriginal art, something my Australian was quite happy to see.      This is not one of it, by the way.

However, in some floors, periods and mediums are mixed in and somehow I am not drawn in.   What does, is this painting of a mother and child (his wife and daughter) by William Sergeant Kendall which brings my mom to mind.  In two days it will be three years since her passing.  

A lot of modern art.     

 

 

 

 

 

Then a statue of cupid.  I photograph its bum for I have the full intention of decorating my bathroom with photos of behinds taken all over the world.

We are not far from Pike’s Market so we decide to have dinner there.  End up at Etta’s.  Food was really good though I found it expensive for what it was. But it won me over (I had serious hesitation looking at the menu).  It starts pouring which gives me an excellent excuse to order a decadent dessert while we wait for the rain to turn into a drizzle.  I am just going to become a roly poly if I keep on eating like this so Seattle has to promise not to give me any more excuses for me to keep on eating!

The End… and Hopefully, a Lucky 13!

I wake up to two lovely little kitties.  A cup of tea. Relaxing morning.  A day of no hurries and hopefully no worries.

My co-guide is hard at work at surveying the possible places to go in the vicinity.  He finds Multnomah Falls in the Colville Indian Reservation.   It is a 30-40 each way side trip but I think it is going to be worth it.  Piper surveys our bags, we give her a last hug, pet Phineas as well and off we go.

Baby Blue is hesitant.  No more snow or ice, right? I hope not. And so we go. It is cold but not brutally so. The mountains and the falls are waiting.  I think I would have liked to have explored more of Portland but am looking forward to being in one place for a while.  As we get close to Multnomah there is a spot that many are parking.  It’s Wahkeena Falls   and if they are smaller than Multnomah Falls I really am looking forward to those!   We decide to hike up to see them close up.    Nature provides us with such beautiful intricate forms.  The sound from the falls is thunderous.   

Though it doesn’t need to scream for its power to be understood, it does so anyway.  We have zigzagged up quite high.  Dean stops for a photo, I continue on to a little side road that leads to nowhere but provides me with a sense of quietude which almost overpowers the coldness that has creeped inside my bones.

  Nature provides us with ice sculptures.

    

We could continue around but another 3 miles in unisom with the cold is a symphony I do not wish to play so back from where we came from it is.    There is a bench up ahead where I sit and think of sliding back down…   briefly… until I think of what a block of ice I would become.  I am most thankful that my heavy breathing (panting, really) is muffled by the sounds of gallons of water streaming down.      

We get to the car, put the heat on full blast and go the few minutes to Multnomah Falls.    The visitor center is really quite quaint and the falls are impressive indeed.

  Magnificently upright, 611 feet up. According to Native American lore, Multnomah Falls was created to win the heart of a young princes who wanted a hidden place to bathe.  Loving the bridge in the middle.  We walk up to it, cross it, get a bit wet, and head down once again.  Seattle -5 hours and 40 minutes away- is next.

We arrive in Seattle well into the night, tired but happy to be where we will set camp for 11 days.  We are technically not in Seattle.  We are in Bellevue, WA about 40 min. away by car.  A friend has so graciously and generously lent us her home while they are away.

I awake to Dec. 30 a day away from the end of the year and I can’t believe that a year has passed so fast. It has undoubtedly been one of the best I have had.  An assessment will follow.  Too much to ponder and be thankful for.  Enough for another blog in itself.   Today we go to an outlet mall.  We do some shopping but most stores are closed.  It’s Sunday and they have closed early.  I manage to be more flustered at the wheel than ever and miss more exits than I thought humanly possible.  We have dinner at Outback Steakhouse (definitely an Aussie theme these days) and go home and chill (though the chill is outside).

On the 31st there is no doubt that we are going to spend it around the Space Needle observing the fireworks.  We dress in layers.  Thermals, long sleeves, sweater and coats.  Oh, and gloves, scarves, beanies, and a small backpack to store layers that we put on and off. I know that I don’t want to drive so we go to Redmond -where the bus stop is and only 3 minutes away from us- smack in the middle of Microsoft “campus” as someone said. The 454 takes us to Pike and 5th St. and where it drops us is exactly where the monorail s that takes us to the Space Needle. We get there and go into the Armory at Seattle Center were I delight in a miniature train village set up in the middle of it all. Don’t think that there is a kid in us that is not fascinated by trains.  

Horses and Trains

Always Wanted a Tree House!

We then go into the lobby of the EMP Museum (Experience Music Project).   What caught my attention was the Frank Gehry building it is housed in.  Just incredibly unique and beautiful.        Today is a bit grey but in the sunshine this building must glisten.  The photos don’t really do it justice. It reflect the Space Needle, competes with it and distorts it.    

  It’s still relatively early and there are no crowds and since we are hungry we walk to Pikes Market.  On our way we pass Top Pot Doughnuts, an institution in Seattle.    We make a beeline towards it only to find that they have sold out on the doughnuts.

  We arrive at Pikes Market.  I love markets anywhere in the world.  This one is not so huge but bustling.  It’s a mix of arts/craft fair, fish market, vegetable, flower market waterside.     

There is lots to look at aside from the horizon.

Can you spot the real bird?  

Rings nature creates on wood. Carvings that man creates on wood.  

Bird surveying his territory.

The sun is setting and it is beautiful.          

We go inside and have our last meal of the year (or what we thought was going to be our last meal) at a cafe at waterside.  A salmon bisque, a clam chowder, crab cakes and a chocolate bundt cake.

  

Back on the monorail and the Seattle Center.  We first stop at the Skating Rink.   The Armory is filled.  The outside not so much.  It is cold, very cold.  Two Californians sitting next to us are saying how unused to this weather they are.  So am I.  But then the fireworks start and all is forgotten.  Here is a link to the video.  Here’s a link to the second part (with the finale) which is sideways, not because I laid down but because I had the brilliant idea of changing the camera angle thinking that I could fix it later… I couldn’t.

Happy New Year everyone!!!!!  Thank you for being an important part of mine!

May 2013 be the best yet!

On The Road Again…

We head out today.  Once again on the road.  Am excited.  I almost feel like I’m relocating.  The car is packed and I compartmentalized everything knowing full well that along the way the interior will turn into a chaotic mess where I will not be able to find the most essential necessities.  But I’m okay with that.

It’s early in the morning and we have about 8 hours, 545 miles to reach Redding where we are staying on our way to Seattle.   Never been past San Francisco so I am all revved up to go and explore.  As usual, I only know what Daisy, my GPS, chooses to share with me.  Though I have sort of mapped out through http://www.roadtrippers.com our route, I basically am ignorant of what terrain we are crossing -something that later on in the trip I will learn to regret.

So far, the 5 North has proven itself to be exactly what I thought it would be.  Lots of traffic and with stretches which are absolutely, hypnotically boring. But I like driving and it doesn’t phase me.  There is good music on the stereo and I can go on forever. When I was in OZ and NZ my guy did all the driving.  I was not to keen (an Aussie expression) on driving on the wrong side of the road or, as in New Zealand, having the stick shift on the left.  Too much to concentrate on!  So while he was in the West Coast I was intent on doing all the driving.  Good intentions.  Not so good on the execution of it.

About 4 hours in more or less, we pass Gustine, CA.  Actually, we don’t pass it since I see a big sign that says Andersen’s Pea Soup Company  and Baby Blue (aka: my Prius) perks up and suggests that my Aussie passenger should experience a bit of Americana. Now in its 75th year of existence it is more an experience than excellent dining. Baby Blue goes in.  I have pea soup and chicken salad.  Aussie has steak and eggs. Both on the mediocre side but heck, we are experiencing part of American history!

And the trip continues with not much more excitement.   We use airbnb often when we travel.  Staying in a local person’s home who guide you as to where to go and what to do is so much more welcoming and holds more warmth than staying at a hotel and usually paying more.  It also comes with some perks.  Our hosts in Redding, where we arrive 4 hours after our coma-inducing ingestion of food, have a Miniature Australian Shepherd puppy (Is there an Aussie theme here?) of about 3 months that is so fun to play with!  She is the size of a chihuahua for now and will grow to only about 10 pounds.   Jamma (which I am sure is spelled wrong) was such a happy little girl that she would not stay still for a photo.

Morning wakes us up to a dreary rainy, cold day (34º F).  But off we go!  On our way to Portland, where we have decided to head straight for.   The drizzle is constant but I am unconcerned.  But less than an hour in we are heading up and it’s starting to get colder and now the raindrops have turned into snowflakes and they are swirling on my windshield. We are about 3,000 ft up the mountain. I’m not liking that this is combined with mountains and curves.  Oh my!  Then the windshield wipers aren’t wiping as well and I’m noticing Baby Blue’s windshield is icing up.  My legs start trembling.  Remembering my friend Dani Kehm who has a blog about panic attacks. (I’ve linked her name to her blog.) Haven’t had one in eons but my heart is beating way too fast… Dean asks me if I’ve driven in snow before.  The answer is no.  Do you want me to drive? Yes. Yes. Yes. Please! I am surprised as to how scared I am. Feeling like a wus but that doesn’t stop my legs from shaking.  So I pulled into Dunsmuir.  A lovely town.  If I weren’t so nervous I’d notice how the area is so incredibly beautiful under snow.  The exit ramp is icy and snowed in.

It looks so peaceful… though still shaking I take out my camera and take this photo.

Dean is guiding me as to what to do.  We pull at a gas station and I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for not being alone.  We still have 5 hours to Portland.   He drives for a few hours while it’s still snowing and icy and yucky.  Eventually we go down the mountain and it stops snowing.

We arrive in Portland mercifully after rush hour.  It’s about 8:30.  The city surprises me as to how huge it is.  It’s a maze of intersecting freeways.  I’m at the wheel now, tired, cranky, and missing most of my turns and exits (which is not that unusual with me).   We once again have booked through airbnb.  This time I had communication with the host on the road.  We arrive at a charming craftsman-style house.  It’s chilly and it’s still drizzling but as soon as we come in we are greeted by the most welcoming human host and two of the sweetest and cutest cats ever.

These photos were taken in the morning.

Piper, a gray beauty that I knicknamed “burpee” ’cause she loves to be held and patted like when you burp a newborn.

Ready for a petting session.

   

Her tags match the season. 🙂

Phineas, her brother, a shiny black cat that wears a bow tie with grace and pride.  The house is warm, our room is perfect and I am extremely content to be here.

He’s totally owning that couch!

A side “bow tie” view.

A front bow tie view.

Our bed is super comfy and it doesn’t take long to be in the arms of Morpheus.  I dream of flat terrain and no snow and a day when I can transport myself with no other means of transportation than my mind.