something new from something found

this is a little meditation on life that i wrote a few weeks ago.
i'd like to share it with you.

'...to be more comfortable inside my skin:
it pushed and pulled and broke me so many times.
it demanded of me a strength i didn't know i possessed.
san francisco was five years of falling down and forcing myself back up
to face the melee.
it exhausted me and took fro me the lightness of being
i had known in san luis obispo.
it forced me into submission and forced me to make a reckoning with myself.
to live by the rules of none but myself (a realization i admittedly did not come to easily)
is to live by my dreams.
i ached and screamed and bled by san francisco to be able to be here--
in portland for my self and by my self.'

a different kind of spring

i went to sleep last night wanting to share a poem about the beauty of spring in this post today, but instead...
i awoke earlier than normal thinking that i had wrestled myself from the throes of a bad dream and rose to test out the day. as i wandered around my house sleepy-eyed and slightly grumpy, i tried to recall the source of my nocturnal torment, but found an easy and incredibly pleasant distraction
snow.
yes, it is snowing and it is beautiful.
whenever i have the opportunity to experience snow, i do so with alacrity. when i visit my parents in indiana in the winter, my mom and i establish a routine about snow. my mom watches faithfully for me and upon sighting the first flurries never fails to announce, "look binky, it's snowing!" in that way my childlike enthusiasm can be fostered well into adulthood and i can greet new days with infectious glee.
my housemate rose this morning initially dismayed by another cold day, but quickly found a new perspective after witnessing my excitement.
with a big grin, she announced that the universe sent the snow just for me.

more rain = beautiful abundance

speaking of abundance... portland never seems to be without a plethora of interesting events, one of which i was delighted to be a part of last night. i had the opportunity to see a wonderful shadow puppet show at valentine's, called ice cream truck face. if they're in your neighborhood, flag them down and check out their hijinks.

and later...

i had the opportunity last night to be a part of small and sweet closing party at the together gallery. i got to meet the artists/owners as well as a few friends, one of whom is installing for the next show today. they were wonderfully kind, open, inspired, talented(!) and unguarded group of people i have experienced in a gallery setting in a long time.
a great weight feels like it is lifting as i settle into my life here in portland and close the chapter of san francisco. i feel the opportunity for growth within a positive community is truly possible here.

... and it smells nice, too.

if you want to check out the last show at together (mark's teepee!) or want to see what's coming up, it's worth the extra few minutes.

sunny days are here

saturday was the blissful (despite my love of rain) freedom from precipitation. the cold and crisp early spring morning promised birdsong and families out en masse shopping for seed. at the co-op, eager children grabbed at seed packets, drawn by the beautiful colors and plump vegetables while moms followed them patiently and explained which seeds would sprout best and which they had to wait for. the springs excitement was palpable. people gathered to converse and share stories of winter hardships and spring growth. saturday was a day for garage sales, lawn mowers, bicycles and the re-emergence of winter projects half-forgotten. for me it was an opportunity to free my lenses from their caps and share some inspiration.
...happy equinox... belated...



the first photo was from the train yard near my house. i've been eyeing those cars, and after my housemate told stories about freight hopping friends, well...
the second is early spring in my backyard.

life is nice.

day one

this is a photo taken at portland state.  each white flag represents approximately five iraqi lives lost.  the red flags indicate every american life lost.  it seems so easy for an installation like this to become cliche, but i found it to be moving in its simplicity. the juxtaposition of the flags against the stark winter landscape evokes a feeling of profound melancholy and compassion for those living amidst the stark reality of war. although there is so much i fail to comprehend about war, statements like this never cease to pull me from my consumer-driven haze and into a state of pensive (and in this case inspired) reflection.

new(s) days

i just moved to portland after much time and talk about it. in an endeavor to connect those i love most with my very first days here, i have decided to make this little blog with a photo a day for the first month i'm here.
i hope you enjoy the photos and can walk next to me for a little minute while i explore this beautiful new place.

i love you all so much.

james