[marc chagall]

The world, Govinda, is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment; every sin already carries grace within it, all small small children are potential old men, all sucklings have death within them, all dying people--eternal life.

-Siddhartha

[photo taken in Los Naranjos, Colombia]

i am hoping to begin using this blog more regularly as a catalog for images of art work and examples of writing that i find most beautiful and intriguing and strange and wonderful.

to begin, the above painting, though not strange but certainly beautiful, by jesse wilcox smith.

i read books for many reasons. principally, i love books, everything about them, how they smell, feel, sound, not to mention the beautiful words and pictures i find inside of them. but this description pertains primarily to novels, poetry books and art books. i also use books to learn things, or to be inspired to make new things, in which case technical art books and poetry or writing manuals are of great help. i also sometimes read books to "solve" problems, but this can create a new problem as well. if one book does not solve the problem or give me immediate insight on how to do so, i read another, and another, believing that filling myself with knowledge will be a suitable substitute for the one-and-only problem solver we canNOT control: time. i know this and i do it anyways, read too much, spend too much on books. perhaps one could say it's impossible to read too much (and i attempt to cut costs by buying used), but i'd have to disagree. sometimes i get so wrapped up in reading that everything else gets put on hold. this wouldn't be a concern if i were reading only a book or two, but here is the current list of books i'm "rotating" through:

1. Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse

2. The Creation of Health, by Carolyn Myss

3. The Prophet, by  Kahlil Gibran (re-read)

4. No Death, No Fear, by Thich Nhat Han

5. The Heart of Buddha's Teaching, by Thich Nhat Han

6. The Bhagavad Gita, translated by Eknath Easwaran

7. The Heart of Yoga, Developing a Personal Practice, by TKV Desikachar

8. Yoga Mind, Body & Spirit, by Donna Fahri

9. Think on These Things, by Jiddu Krishnamurti

10. The Great Enigma; New Poems, by Tomas Transtormer

...

this IS a problem. because beyond this list are dozens of other half-read poetry anthologies and art books (though i find that slowly and in pieces are often how such books are read), another yoga book (i'm not sure i'll ever read this one), a couple more books on hinduism and buddhism, and a handful of used books (mostly novels) bought online and at garage sales or given to me that i REALLY DO want to read. i have not even mentioned the plethora of poetry anthologies, art manuals, artist books, encyclopedias on energy medicine, and novels you could find on my amazon wishlist. but what is a knowledge-hungry book-crazed girl to do? there are so many good ones out there... i will confess, though, i miss the joy and ease of fiction reading. once this phase passes, i need to at last begin the Grapes of Wrath, which sits, at the moment, below all of the religious theory books.

in addition to painting more, i've been trying to write more. when i want to write more, i read more, and sometimes i just find the most beautiful poems. some of them are too long to post in full, but i'd like to share what i can...poems in their entirety when possible, and excepts otherwise. sometimes i am not sure which is more beautiful, or if they can even be compared: a good poem, or a good painting.

(excerpts from): The Torch Bearers' Race, by Robinson Jeffers

is there anything more joyous than sharing!?

i doubt it :)

these are some things i am fortunate enough to be able to share lately/soon:

yoga with my dad

yoga & crime shows with my mom

ayurvedic cooking with my sister

running & exercise dvds with my other sister

board game nights with my sisters and friends

drawing class with my friend and her darling daughter

hand-written letters and post cards with my close friends who live at a distance

& of course, books! i am currently rotating between about 8 books. some of them will most definitely be passed on to a few close friends and family once i am done.

xox

sometimes i still have moments of shock when i walk by a window and see snow piling up outside. it's been so long since i've been a regular witness to snow that its presence is still occasionally a surprise. the cold is not so bad. two years on the west coast undoubtedly lowered my ability to tolerate it, and two years at the equator, i thought, completely demolished any of the little tolerance i'd ever had. but i was wrong. the anticipation of the cold was in all likelihood far worse than the actual cold. my house isn't insulated, and i walk outside about 40 minutes each day to and from work, and even go running in horrible slush and ice, and... i am fine. it is unpleasant at times, and there are moments when i miss deeply the the warmth of summer, but the cold has its reasons. before i was just content to complain about it, to wish it were warmer and sunnier, rather than to actually try to actually appreciate it for what it is or means or does.

a few weeks ago i found myself in the midst of a "spiritual crisis" let's say. i think it has been building itself up for some time, and i was aware of it, i am no good at burying, i simply had no idea what to do about it. i never believed in a conventional god. i am by my very nature a curious person. i like to ask questions, and i was always hushed in my religious education classes, my superiors telling me that if i had faith, i wouldn't have questions. i was turned off by this, and throughout college battled with my conflicting feelings about ideas of death and afterlife and god and faith and why things happen and if there is a reason behind this all. many of my friends believed in nothing but randomness, generally shunning anything tied into faith or fate or mysticism. i felt some of the magic i had believed to be present in the world slipping away. in graduate school i lived with a wonderful girl who was going through something similar... together we read books on different faiths, took long walks and chatted about our endless questions, and even went to different kinds of religious services. ultimately neither of us found anything concrete in our searches that year, but i was certainly grateful to have found a new friend, and also someone who was going through some of the same things i was.

after that the irksome feelings went under the radar for a few years. they were still there and would occasionally bubble up when i had a stomach problem and began assuming i had terminal cancer. but, each "illness" proved harmless, and i could again slide my incessant, disturbing and sad thoughts about death onto the back burner. i didn't understand how all of my non-believer friends were comfortable with the idea of death. they all said of course, they didn't WANT to die, but they didn't fear it. but of course, when i thought about it, i would do it in such a way that within seconds i was in a state of controlled panic. outwardly i appeared to be feeling fine, but the inside of my mind and heart was a terrible place to be. there was no escape. i would have to die, and my feelings only became worse, what could i do? religions didn't seem to work for me, classes on spiritual meditation and yoga were too hokey-pokey voodoo-y for me, and beyond that there remained the atheists and agnostics, offering nothing even remotely soothing for my fear-rattled soul. i didn't give up trying to fix this because i was in denial, i just failed to see any possibilities for change. i figured i'd just wait for my death sentence.

but that was flawed thinking. three weeks ago i experienced a minor health scare that sent me reeling. i totally fell apart, i was certain i could not deal with it, with illness or death or healing or any of it. however, i realized in those days of terror that one very important thing: it was not just my outlook on death that had to change, but also, and perhaps more importantly, my outlook on life. for all of my life, my focus has always been on going, on what i would everntually someday do, where i would go, what i would see. i had (still have) big plans for myself, but in all that planning, i failed to really and truly be present. i noticed tiny details, the beauties of life, i witnessed such amazing things because i was and am very good and looking and seeing... but being a witness does not demand participation, all you need is a good eye. i was a careful and constant observer, i didn't miss much but my heart was often already on the next page, taking my mind and thoughts with it soon after. i had mistaken my ability to see for the ability to be present. but it is not enough to see one thing and yet be someplace else. i don't know if this makes sense to anyone other than myself, it's difficult to verbalize, but i was and am able to do both: be present visually and emotionally but with my thoughts traveling elsewhere.

anyways. i realized in my life i needed to focus more on being than on going. i realized that if i had one year of life left, under my current perspective, i would deem that year a waste, what good is it to live only one more year? what on earth can i do and see in one year? what differences can i make in one year? likely not many (and this is me being a realist, i realize in my field that the changes i want to make may not even be observable until after i'm gone, even if i live a long life!). anyway, i certainly do have lofty goals for the arts and education, but i can't define myself by only my goals, or i will never be satisfied. i realized, for me, with my crazy fears and worries, that a life chasing goals was a dangerous idea. if i could not be satisfied with right now, my fears would someday get the best of me, and i do NOT want to know what that means.

and i also realized that even becoming more present and focusing on being would not heal me completely. it is going to take a long time, such change does, but in order to do it, i DO need to take a look at my perspective on death. since this crisis, i've started reading a plethora of books on health and healing, hinduism, buddhism, yoga, general spirituality, god in nature, god in art.... everything. i am quite certain that no concrete answers lie in these books, not for me anyways, i know how my mind is wired. i am never satisfied with someone else's answers to my problems and questions, only being able to answer questions myself do i find any comfort. and death is no joke, and it is a series of endless questions and unknowable possibilities. i sometimes fear i will never find my answers. but i always fear the worst, and this is a trait i am also recognizing as possibly very limiting. i think sometimes that the things i imagine and fear are actually worse than any reality. i am very good and creating scary places, and those places are filled with traps.

thinking about this reminds me of a time earlier today, reading a book about death written by a buddhist monk. his ideas about death are so digestible and peaceful, yet i still feel myself rejecting them, and instead conjuring up my horrifying ideas of total annihilation, and i stopped myself and wondered: is this any different than me thinking that a stomach ache has to be cancer? or dizziness being multiple sclerosis? or heart palpitations an incurable degenerative disease? is this just me, once again, resorting to the worst-case-scenario? why? why do i insist on torturing myself when i don't have to? why would i spend all that energy on cancer when it was just a bad egg? why do i allow myself to wallow away inside of the worst-case-scenario possible for death when in reality i really don't know? when no one knows? is my tendency towards belief in oblivion any different in my repeated beliefs that i am terminally ill when i'm actually just fine? why do i act like i know when i don't? and why are the things i claim to "know" always the worst? and how many times have i been right?

not once.

i am quite certain there is no kingdom in the clouds, but my mother, who is a nurse practitioner and has witnessed death on at least a weekly basis her entire working life, insists "there is peace". i am working on finding my peace now, while i am still alive in this world i love so dearly, so that death does not have to be so traumatic. there is no way out of this, and finding "god" will not solve any problems. maybe i will find god, i don't know, but first i need to find peace, and i need to stop assuming the worst, and i need to remember that my fears are not real. they are fears. oh! but this is all so much easier said than done. progress is slow.

i hope i've not frightened anyone with this lengthly analysis of my psyche. it's been a life-long concern for me, and i've only recently realized that it's not going to go away by itself. i have a lot of work to do... but so far it's mostly interesting and fun. learning is good, even if it does not take me to  a mountaintop iced in answers, i will feel better, just knowing a little bit more about the world i live in and all the possibilities outside of the worst-case-scenario that exist. 

xox

as promised, some evidence of recent productivity. and three new paintings to be started as soon as i finish today's job applications! :)

currently, i am working mostly to retain skills lost due to four years of non-productivity in the realms of drawing and painting, and to build upon those skills i lost. therefore, paintings are generally technical in nature, focusing on studies of proportions, light and shadow, and color. once i am satisfied with my progress, i'll begin more "conceptual" work, or whatever you want to call it. the only series i'm working on at the moment are images from ecuador, and flowers.

santorini greece, commission for a very sweet christmas gift :) acrylic on wood.

rotten fruit study, acrylic on canvas.

pigpen studio!

figure studies. conte, charcoal, china marker and pencil.

drawing is a superpower//gino, oil on wood. first oil painting in SEVEN years. oh, dear...

detail of gino's cara lindisima!! xox

that's all for now. hopefully i'm back soonish with more images :) until then, i will be writing about fantasies and other things...

PS: my dear friend greta interviewed me on her blog, which you can find here if you want to read it!

i've never felt so inspired...! here's what's helping me:

hatha (iyengar) yoga

running

the prophet, by kahlil gibran

collected poems of robinson jeffers

siddhartha, by herman hesse

the fluidity of oil paint

ecuador

my friend greta

my first cousin once-removed (or something like that), kyle

gino's cute face

richard diebenkorn

manatees

new painting #1 will be shared soon! including shots from my slovenly "studio" :)

<3

it has taken a while, but finally, slowly, joyously, all the little parts of my life are beginning to merge together. 4 years ago i turned down a superb job offer to explore the west coast of the united states. that decision might have horrified a few people, but i always knew it felt right. i wanted to teach, but some part of me knew that i was simply not ready. my west coast life was tumultuous and beautiful and dotted with periods of doubt and depression. what WAS i doing? and WHY? unable to answer the question, i decided the only thing i could do was to continue doing what felt "right". now, that may appear to be a rather vague distinction, but if your gut has ever told you something, you know it isn't a vague feeling at all, especially if you don't listen to it.

my life in ecuador was even more challenging, filled with higher highs and lower lows, and it was, at times, incredibly lonely, but incredibly exhilarating. this was when the real doubt settled in, being far away and alone, i managed to forget even further who i was. the forgetting began in seattle, but it was fuzzy, there was no real absence of self. i could write about this endlessly, citing examples and details and describing what it feels like to lose yourself, but i won't. mostly because i don't have the time, but also because i've written about it a million times before.

only very recently have i noticed things coming back. things that are almost like photographs that i misplaced but found while looking for something else. there were so many things that i forgot, so many things that i loved that i left behind. but i think that is what it takes sometimes. you can't "find" yourself until you've lost yourself. for so long i had this blurry vision of what i was supposed to do while here on earth, but it was blurry enough that i couldn't quite figure out exactly what it was, i could only feel its edges. then one day it was gone, and it wasn't until i found it much later that my sight had begun to sharpen. i knew where to begin, i knew where to go. details, of course, are unclear, methods aren't exactly known, but i know what "it" is. and as everything around me and ahead of me sharpens further, more and more things, both new and old, reveal themselves.

i have never felt more "myself". in good ways and bad ways (we are all composed of both light and dark, which is something i'm finally beginning to accept and overcome without kicking myself in the ass for every mistake or moment of weakness). anyway. i want to do a million things at once, all the new things i love and all the old things i'd forgotten i loved. but the days has only 24 hours (i'd wish for 48, and only 8 hours of sleep!) so i should pace myself and enjoy them all slowly and in good time, no madness or rushing!

i don't know what the method of all of my paintings will be, that will change with each work, each series. but i know why i am doing all this. the message must be whole and intact, i mustn't interfere, i mustn't insert my feelings or opinions. and they might be different for every recipient, but they come from all things and people and moments tiny or forgotten or misplaced or simply overlooked. i have no political agenda, i have no emotions worth spilling onto a canvas (at least not at the moment, but that could change). but i know thousands of things and people that deserve a chance, and those are things and people i will paint. i've been fortunate enough to be born with a terrific set of eyes, and all i want to do is share. and in that sharing, i want to bring people together, not separate or stratify them. 

and as a teacher, i seek to do the same. i want to help each student find their way through a painting, or a sculpture, or maybe a written or historical piece. i want to help each student find passion in something. there is magic in paint, in clay, in the simple act of making something with your hands, going from nothing to a finished piece of work. everyone can benefit from that process, no matter what one's level of skill, background, interests or socioeconomic status is. 

i wasn't so great at sharing as a kindergartner, being very possessive of my dolls and plastic kitchen tools. luckily, i've gotten over that. i am so thankful to all the people and things that have helped me get here....

and now! i have a to-do list of 60 or so paintings and a couple dozen teaching applications and essays...so no more wistful dawdling! and i'll be sharing paintings here... and all the jazzy and fun process stuff :)

xox

last year i went batty and made a mile-long list of all the things i thought i needed to change. this year i'm keeping things simple:

send out REAL birthday cards. in the mail. no more email or facebook b-day wishes! i got some lovely diebenkorn & thiebaud cards to send out starting january 14th! there is nothing like getting cards in the mail on your birthday, the anticipation as you listen to the paper tear upon opening... but sadly it's a dying trend...so i'll do my part to revive it!

no more NEW books. i have a real problem when it comes to books. previously i bought about 30% used, 70% new, but i've decided if i'm ever going to live above the poverty line, i'd better stop buying new. plus it'll save a few trees maybe. anyways, i'll make exceptions for new editions of old books, but the rest MUST BE USED!

that's it! now, i'm off to NYC and DC for a long weekend...and to see the EXPERIENCE exhibit at the New Museum before it comes down. can't wait!!!

is everywhere. well, except in running. there i am still regressing due to a knee injury, and it's taking its dandy old time to start healing the way i want it to. anyway.

i didn't want to write about writing tonight, at least, it's not what i wanted to focus on. since coming home from ecuador at the end of may, i've gone through numerous changes. some changes were planned, i wanted to make them, but, most of the changes were surprises, or were half-planned but happened in unexpected ways. my main priority (as it has been for years) was to start painting again. i have made dozens of attempts at re-igniting this old love of mine, but each was a failure. i'd do one painting for myself or for a commission, and the process tired or frustrated me and upon finishing something i'd be in the mood to give it up again. what i've boiled it down to is that i simply was not ready. i had nothing to paint. and while i wish i'd at least maintained my technical skills, i know that i needed to pass through a period of time where i wasn't creating anything. over the last four years, i've been gathering, mostly. experiences, ideas, memories, strange places, oceans, lessons learned, loves found, loves lost, language, even. 5 years ago i thought i'd be living in a cabin in vermont right now. i didn't think i'd be fluent in spanish and on food stamps!

but, ohh, like always i've lost myself on a tangent. what i wanted to say is that i've started painting again. and this time it feels different. this time it feels permanent. it does not feel fleeting. i'm struggling of course, my hand is terribly rusty, but mostly, i feel good about it. i'm working on a commission but i have a gessoed piece of wood sitting next to me waiting patiently for its first layer f paint. i know what i'm going to do next, and i know what i want it to do, to say. i know why i'm going to paint that image. i did not arrive at this place of progress by accident. i know that many things and people have contributed:

first, finally i have gathered enough, at least to start. second, spending most of my time alone, i've had a lot of time to think, to read, to look at paintings that inspire me. third, i started running; i forced myself through a lot of ugly, painful runs and i completed my goal of running a half marathon, i experienced my first measurable personal success. fourth, i work in an art gallery where i am constantly exposed to art and ideas and loads of books full of concepts and images that i needed to see and process and appreciate and love (i'm still reading and researching like a fiend, usually 3-5 books at a time!). fifth, i started regularly practicing yoga, which forced me to confront my limitations on a daily basis, but more importantly it allows me to see that with time, those limitations can be pushed further, or obliterated entirely. it also helps me quiet my crazy mind! sixth, i started going to figure drawing classes with a friend, i made some ugly drawings. and i got over it, i poked a hole in my ego and i've decided not to re-inflate it. not that i ever had a tremendous ego about my art, but i was protective of the possibility that maybe i'm not as good as i want to me. i realized i can no longer make such efforts to protect fears. seventh, i've experienced tons of rejection regarding employment. before this summer, i never didn't get a job i interviewed for. i've now been denied 3 such jobs (two of which i was definitely more than qualified for), and have not even made it to the interview stage of dozens more. i at first took it personally, of course, but then i realized that it was wrong to do so, and that it did not make me any less of a rad teacher. the right job is out there, i will find it when the time is right. eighth, i'm surrounded in people i love, maintain in contact with the people i knew in ecuador and friends afar, and i've met some incredibly wonderful people since coming home. many people in my life serve as constant inspiration and help me maintain motivation when i feel like i flabby excuse of a person/artist. ninth, i had to get over some not-so-fun painful losses, by myself, and in the process i had to recognize my place within humanity, and that what i was going through was really not so unique, despite how alone i felt. in getting over my personal difficulties (well, we always are, aren't we?), i was able to spend more time looking, really looking, not only inward, but also outward, outside of myself and my life, and realize what it was that i wanted to do with my hands, with paint, with yoga, running, with teaching. with my existence, really, my reason for being. for the longest time, i could sense it, but i could not access it. finally! the flow has begun...

i know that i have made some really corny statements while writing this, but i only half apologize for them, because they are all true, and let's face it, sometimes life demands a little cornballishness. one time my uncle wrote me an email that began "dear cornball,". it is silly to pretend i'm not something that i am. i've also become addicted to yoga. i've read hundreds of pages on the philosophy of yoga and the physical and mental benefits of all the poses... in just the last week! what i love so much about it is that every time you do it, something changes, every time you do it, you learn something new, about yourself, your body, your breath, the room you're in, or just about yoga. it really is a beautiful and ever-evolving process. i look forward to practicing tomorrow, and because it will be after a run, it will be dramatically different from today's practice. anyhoo, i don't want to get carried away.

i think it is time for another cup of darjeeling tea, and then back to painting!

love xoxox

(above, scenes from my messy studio! those yogurt containers contain precious shells that i want to work into a wire sculpture once i find a dremel to borrow and buy a diamond bit!!)

i apologize in advance if some of what is to be written is simply too much information, but i need to clear my head if i'm going to get anything done tonight and i'm not in the mood to write by hand in my crummy little journal.

first. i have to say how much of a difference i think hormones make when it comes to one's outlook/demeanor. nearly all of last week i was miss gloom-and-doom about everything, easily irritated and walking around thinking plentiful bad thoughts. i guess the overdraft fee and parking ticket on the same day did nothing good for my mood, but i have to say i think it was more than just those occurrences. this week i've felt great everyday, and almost all day long, and i've caught myself laughing or smiling to myself as i go about doing whatever it is that i need to do. sometimes while i walking i catch myself in the midst of some odd detail of an incredibly unrealistic and futuristic fantasy, and i often say "katie!" out loud, and then begin to laugh. if i don't laugh at myself, i'll criticize myself, and i have to say i think laughter is far more pleasant and productive. i won't ever be perfect, and i'll very likely always be a weirdo, so i may as well embrace it.

i had a "katie!" moment tonight while walking home from a cafe where i'd downed a delicious mocha. and when i heard myself say my name, a friend's face popped into mind, as did something she'd sad to me yesterday about my  "katie!" moments. i realized how much it pained me to imagine leaving these wonderful people i'm just getting to know next year to find work. since coming home i've been icredibly fortunate to meet a handful of wonderful people, i also have a couple dear friends not too far away in rochester, and of course, my darling sisters and parents here. i've become increasingly closer with and more appreciative of my sisters, and more importantly, more appreciative of the relationship the three of us maintain. i don't want to walk away from that just yet. i want more time, i want more than a year. i know i can't always get what i want, but i am going to start trying harder. truthfully, i've given up on finding work in the western new york region, but maybe i gave up too soon. maybe there will be something out there for me and i won't have to move down to north carolina or some place all alone. i've done the moving somewhere alone thing a few times already. and it was great! but if i can help it, i think i'd like to try and stay. i might not get my dream teaching job right away, but i can build towards my dream, which is not even a school-based job anyway. the future is maleable, anything is possible, i think.

ok! i have some paintings to get back to. i am falling in love with art (and especially painting) more deeply than i ever have before, and am quite certain it can only lead to good things. a small sculpture is in the works, too! as soon as i can get my little hands on a dremel! 

xoxo, kt

my self-published book of photographs and journals from my twenty-one months in ecuador is officially and indefinitely for sale through the publisher's website, which i have linked on the left side of the page. there is a twenty-nine page preview available, as well. have a look!

xoxo 

kt

when i was in colombia, on my last morning, i stumbled upon a little revelation while munching on buttery pastries and downing a few cups of delicious cafe colombiano. i came up with all these solutions to my problems, my worries, my anxieties, the losses i faced. i imagined upon returning home i'd immediately implement each and every one of these strategies to make my life, and myself, better. it is sort of funny, almost admirable, how humans think themselves capable of so much simultaneously. and while we ARE capable of innumerable things, we often have to allow them to come naturally, or build them up one by one or perhaps even two by two. it wasn't that my master plan failed, it just took a lot longer than i expected, and a different route.

you see, i am discovering that my problem is that i often try to predict or imagine the future. but there are so many unimaginable factors. the last six months actually probably went better than i imagined they would. today does mark the exact 6 month anniversary of my arrival back in the united states. my outlook was grim upon landing. while i was excited to see my best friend, my family, i had very little, i had a lot of questions, a huge loss, and an intangible revelation swirling amongst the back of my thoughts as i reassembled my life here.

i had thought, while eating those delicious little pastries, that to solve my problems i needed inner peace and self-acceptance. i thought i could achieve this by finding some sort of faith, and by learning to love myself for who i am. so when i got back to ecuador i went on amazon.com and ordered a few self-help books that i thought would explain this all to me. i ordered a yoga book that i thought could define GOD for me, or some semblance of him/her. i thought it would be so easy, read a book, do the practice, live breezily. HAHAHA. 

one of the self-help books freaked me out more than it helped me. it did make some crucial points, but the man sounded like a maniac, and i found myself panicking while i read it, thinking his point might also prove that i had in fact been a terrible girlfriend and person and had fucked up everything irreversibly forever. the yoga book was loopy scoopy hippy dippy and the author/model had the creepiest head of frizzy hair i'd ever seen. he did tree pose one day and found god. you know i wish my brain worked like that, but it doesn't. i think too much, wonder too much, worry too much, dream too much, and worst of all (for this yogi) i ask too many questions. most of them unanswerable. i had to scrap my plan. self-help books written by indian cult leaders and yoga for the spirit would not be the path to inner peace and self acceptance for me. you'd think with all the experiences i've had over the past few years i would have known better, but i guess i was looking for the easy way out, to be saved by something other than myself. a common and very human mistake. 

but what i'm realizing is that maybe i was wrong to think i had to ditch the entire plan immediately. i always forget that time is a factor, and often plays a large role. sometimes we just need to relax into things, especially changes, instead of trying to force them. while i doubt i'll ever find god in yoga, since i started home-practice a month ago i have found that i am enjoying it more than i ever used to. that i have found a rhythm within it, that i look forward to it, and especially the ten minute "meditation" afterwards. i left meditation in quotation marks because i am, at this point in my life, incapable of emptying my skull cavity of thoughts. so i put on tibetan gong music or indian flute and just let my thoughts flow loosely. a previous version of myself might have laughed at such music, but it really is beautiful, and if you let it, it does help to slow things down a bit. but allowing things in can be difficult, and requires time, not force.

running has also proven to be an important change agent. this of course, was a total surprise, considering that 6 months ago i hated running and planned on avoiding it for the rest of my life. but i fell into it sort of by accident and have since come to love how it loosens me like oil might loosen a door on rusty hinges. i want to open and close freely, i want to move whenever and however i want. running helps me do this. it also burns away excess bad energy, gives me a dose of happy and healthy endorphins and makes my whole body just feel better. i cannot really explain why. however, too much running lead to a knee injury, which lead to me having to slow down, which lead me back into yoga. things do work out strangely. now i do both, and things are getting better.

creatively speaking, i'm still getting there. i have been writing a lot and entering poems into contests and submitting them to journals and reviews. the painting and drawing is coming more slowly but the concepts have started to seep in and that is what i need to motivate me. now i just need to get my ass in gear and start practicing.

reading over this i see that this post is incredibly self-centered. but i guess that is my point. we all need periods in our lives when we are able to focus inward, when we are allowed to examine ourselves and learn to understand and love ourselves. that doesn't mean i haven't been thinking about anyone else these past 6 months, i probably do think of others more than i think of myself, but i've been making it a priority to take care of me. this is something i've neglected to do most of my adult life, and it was starting to show. yes, i want to make a positive difference in this world as an artist, writer and educator, but i am no good to anyone if i'm a mess inside. this year of inward focus after 4 years of outward exploration is exactly what i needed. i will go back out and continue to explore, i will do it all over again, my heart aches and longs terribly for those things. but what keeps me here is my knowledge that this is essential, too, that nothing can be built if if you go and go and go without stopping, never taking breaks to reflect, to examine, to see what went wrong, what went right, how to perhaps proceed. i have met some wonderful people since coming home, which has reinvigorated my heart and my hope in others. i have learned/am learning some very important things about family, which i needed. i love surprises, i love the unknown, but stillness, too, has its purpose, its place. i am learning that i do in fact need a little bit of both. i am not pausing to make prediction, rather, to allow for an opening of things i have never allowed for before. i am excited for what is to come.

now...off to watch a movie at my sister's apartment! a joy i could not partake in when i was 3,100 miles away.

love,

kd

i was greeted by my dearest friend in the whole wide world in new york city on may 18, 2011!

celebrated my cousin mitchell's graduation from portsmouth state university.

hiked in the beautiful woods of new hampshire with family after mitchell's graduation.

celebrated ellie's 23rd birthday with hannah and kelly (and mom and brendan and ellen obviously!)

scaled some pretty tricky rock walls when emily visited in july.

biked to work almost every single morning.

gorgeousss misty morning walk with aunt trisha and sadie.

took my first winery tour with kelly in ellicotville :)

moved into the smallest bedroom in buffalo!

went on a bizarre photo adventure around buffalo with dylan, and after he treated me to a foodstamp-paid sub dinner at wegmans! :)

took this very cute photo of my sister the day i got my new camera

ran my first half-marathon! in 1:59:48!!

photographed the beautiful wedding of my life-long friend ellen.

this is more for me than anyone else. i am obsessed with recording and documenting everything i've been through that means something to me. some things are just for me and stay in my personal paper journal, but many things include images and i like to create silly visual organizations of things that are important to me, once in a while.

(and of course there are countless more memories for which there are no photos...)

it's been almost 6 months (just four days under) since i flew home. and it's taken a while, but i've finally got back on my feet. not that i was ever really ever on my ass or anything, but there was a lot of tumult and confusion and hours spent in front of the TV because i couldn't bear to think about things. and i won't lie, there are still some memories that make me feel sad or awful, but i am one prone to feeling bad or guilty if the opportunity is there.

the summer was not that productive personally or artistically (though i DID fill out dozens of job applications and write an equal numbers of cover letters and essays), but the summer was incredibly important. i was able to spend almost every morning on my bike, pedaling by thickets of indian paint brush and queen anne's lace and cattails. this may seem fairly trivial, but i needed that beauty every day, it was relaxing and thought-provoking and it made me feel alive in a way i'd forgotten i could. i met some great kids, worked out doors everyday and was provided with free entertainment via the unbelievable oddballs i worked with. i met some wonderful people. i laughed a lot. i got a tan. i learned how to love running. i read a few good books and wrote a few good poems. 

i needed a summer like that in order to be productive this fall. i needed time, and i needed to relax, i needed to remember who i was and i needed to preserve the memory of my time in ecuador. i've started drawing and painting again, i made a book, i ran a half-marathon, i've gotten to know a few wonderful people better than i did before. but things did not work out this fall like i'd planned. i did not get a teaching job, nor any substituting, however i am seeing that this is very important. i would not have the time i have to rediscover my place in art if i were working full time. by the time i get a job next year, i'll have some paintings under my belt and will be able to work more fluidly outside of teaching. everything happens for a reason, or rather, we make the reasons for the things that happen, if we want to. i do have moments of frustration, but most of the time i feel very glad for where i am and excited about where i'll be a year from now. where? i have no idea, not geographically anyway.

i want to soon share some things from my time in ecuador. even though i felt a need to design a new website as a means of creating a new start for my artistic life, i mustn't fail to acknowledge how important that last four years, and especially the last two, have been to my development as an artist, teacher and member of humanity. i may even go further back and explore some particuarly defining moments in oregon or washington or my travels during that time.

soon, i will post the link to where my book about my time in ecuador can be bought, and will also share some additional images and memories from my time there.

<3

Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean security is out of the question. The words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.

-a love letter from Bernard Mickey Wrangle, in Still Life With Woodpecker, by Tom Robbins

and maybe the 5:30 sunset isn't the worst thing in the world. it makes the night time seem longer, it makes me feel as if i've stayed up later, as if i'm being a little bit badder. eleven-thirty bed times seem like outlaw bed times. and this book about outlaws? gives me the best bad ideas i've had in ages.

xox

i finally had a nice day off to walk around and explore with my camera a bit. it's been a few years since i've experienced a change of seasons, so this was a particularly exciting day for me. i did not realize how precious the change of seasons were until they stopped changing. of course, there is another kind of beauty in constancy, and more subtle changes to take note of. but, this is what i have known my whole life, so this is what i've missed. 

i'm not sure i recall missing the sun setting at five-thirty, though. 

the above photos were taken in and around delaware park in buffalo, new york. i have not lived here in nine years, there is much left to be explored. although lately, i've been entertaining fantasies about escaping to places like wyoming or missouri. i haven't been in one place this long in... years. i have not left the 716 area code since may 22. very un-katie like, but very necessary due to financial limitations, and at times... very, very difficult.

xoxo

i have been thinking about this since last wednesday. i was heading into the studio where i volunteer, just for an hour, and i had my sister's car that day. i could NOT find a parking spot, and i when i did, it was an illegal zone, twice! then i tried to turn around, but realized it was a one-way, as was the next street, and suddenly i was experiencing my first instance of road rage. but i wasn't angry at any drivers, i was angry at my circumstances. the thoughts bounding through my head were screaming "goddamnit! i'm not even getting paid for this! i'm doing all this maniacal parking-spot-searching just for an hour of unpaid work! i'm either unpaid, or underpaid! does anyone value me? do i value me?" i was on the verge of a total meltdown, but i stopped myself. reminding myself that YES, i do value me, that i viewed my time spent at the studio as very valuable, perhaps just personally, if nothing else. of course, the madness melted away while i helped one of the artists write his first poem, a love poem for his girlfriend.

but that moment of madness stayed in the back of my mind, and i continued to consider it. how DO we measure our self-worth? by the size of our paycheck? by the things we own? by how we feel at the end of the day? i suppose it's different for everyone. and while i'm not usually dollar-oriented, it does become an almost constant concern when i don't have enough of it. and i don't have enough. i'm barely getting by and instead of getting another job, i volunteer my time on my days off. last wednesday was an example of a moment when i wondered why the hell i was doing so. the love poem reminded me, however, i still can't help but to feel as though i am under-valued at this current point in my life. my knowledge and experience are of little-to-no importance at my current place of employment, and likely masked entirely by the role i fill and judgments typically made of shopgirls. i made a book, which i am over-the-moon-excited about, but i'm making only about $5 profit per sale, and i won't make many sales. of course, i have to remind myself i didn't make this book to make money, i made it to share an experience. (this is my goal in all of my art, to make it accessible to members of any socioeconomic level so it may be shared with as many people as possible, in the future i won't be so poor so it will be easy. personally, i believe art should be for anyone, which means taking a hit financially myself, but i am ok with this).

so anyway. i suppose i measure my sense of self worth by how much time i spend doing things that make me feel good and alive, things that make me feel like i'm doing something meaningful, things that help others. i don't really get to do that much of that right now, and then of course, i'm barely scraping by. it takes constant reminders, sometimes, to get through a day, telling myself this is my year to get back into my art, to prepare myself to be an even better teacher, person, and artist by the beginning of the next school year. that this is a year for learning, for progress, and that the price i'm paying for having this opportunity to think/practice/learn is that i have no money, is that i'm not doing something i love for work and when i am doing something i love, i'm not getting paid. that it doesn't matter what all those people think of me. i can't lie, though; because our society measures so much by the dollar bill, that when you're not getting many dollar bills, you have moments when you feel pretty worthless. numerically, i am living below the poverty line, and it's made me wonder what happens to someone who is this poor for years, for perhaps their whole lives. how do they do it without going mad? how does one stay content when they are so limited? when they have so little? i trust that in time i will learn the answers, or at least partial answers, to these questions.

i have always, ALWAYS, said that i wanted to experience everything. this, these crappy moments, are a part of everything. and if nothing else is gained, i'm at least learning to find beauty in even stranger things. the way a young man lifted his brand new infant out of a dirty stroller on the subway this afternoon. his cluelessness was obvious as her tiny little head fell back, and while he never did anything to support her neck, he was smiling so deeply, he was so gentle in every other way, giving her kisses as he passed her to the mother.  all the used baby stuff in their stroller broke my heart, how they looked at her, how visible their love was. it turned around my whole day, and they will never know, they will never know they changed anyone, but they did. that makes them valuable, doesn't it? shouldn't it?