Updates: Biking, Apps, ADHD and Agitation

I hate it when bloggers are away for a while and they spend post upon post informing readers of why they have been absent. So I'll try not to do that.

I've missed reading your goings on and plan to get back to it soon.

I've been feeling stressed lately--that unpinpointable tinge of anxious space in the brain that causes tension and general discomfort. I have an idea what could be causing it but I need to step back into Gropius space. The agitation is most likely stemming from disturbances related to situations encompassing prolonged uncertainty. Is that sufficiently vague?

We all occupy a place in which little is certain but we have varying degrees of feeling in control. When that tilts to feeling out of control, anxiety can rear up like Beaucephalus. I realize it's all a continuum. And it's all a matter of perception. The truth is, we're largely at the mercy of circumstance and grace all of the time.

Aside from that, D-Man has endured an extended period of being grounded due to continued inappropriate antics. Therefore, he is physically and emotionally clinging to every bit of personal space we have at home. We enjoy bonding time, but constant ADHD in every crevice of one's life can inflame traces of unrest and take my level of (already) diminishing calm to new drought levels.

In brighter more materialistic news, I finally caved in and purchased an iPhone. I love it and am trying to explore all elements of its functionality before becoming addicted to it. Naturally, my favorite aspect is the Audubon of Florida birding application, allowing me to peruse color photos, vocalizations, ranges and descriptions of Florida birds while on the go. It even allows me to photograph and catalog my own pictures of each species, right where they belong.

We did bikes for Christmas this year. My new two wheeled explorations of the always lovely Robinson Preserve have been fantastic. And while I've been thrilled to see so many people there, I'm longing to reclaim quiet mornings there where I can enjoy it without having to run into what seems like hundreds of others---with dogs, kids, strollers and on bikes, roller blades, etc.

I continue to be overwhelmed with gratitude in the midst of so much suffering in the local and world wide spectrum. To have a meaningful job, to have a family, good health, sweet Flanders in senior stride, dependable friends....all of these things are incredible blessings. And they make my stress seem silly.

I'm hoping your year is off to a good start and I'm looking forward to catching up on your posts.

Mr. Charleston Called It: The Arboretum is Magic

Driving an hour or so outside of Phoenix, up near the little community of Superior, you will come upon a place full of color, texture and magic.

The Boyce Thompson Arboretum is a peaceful 300+ acre garden with native Sonoran Desert species, cactus varieties from Australia and South America, and unexpected forested pathways leading around orange boulders and toward dead-ends you're happy to discover.  

There are lots of well planned gardens and places of beauty, but some of them call to you in a way other places do not. It's the kind of connection you can't really explain. Here's a bit of what I enjoyed at the Arboretum:

I Thought Florida Had the Trademark on Sunsets

I'm out in Arizona for a few days, visiting with my long lost friend the Coaching Goddess who left me back in the spring for a new land. It's so good to see her. The little town of Carefree, just up the road from Scottsdale (just up the road from Phoenix) is lovely.

The big sky surrounded by a silhouette of mountains lends itself well to sunsets.

Colors

This sphere of blue and green we all share is endless in colors, textures, shapes, inspiration. You may have seen a couple of these photos in previous blog posts, but here is an assemblage of colors I've photographed here in Florida:



The Chalk on Burns Square

Sunday we ventured down to the Chalk Festival in Sarasota.

The streets in Burns Square were blocked off and plots were mapped in duct tape for artists from all over the country to pour their creative sweat into temporary images that will wash away on tires and wind in a short time.

At most of the outdoor art events, I wander about thinking how some pieces are better than others and how it's a nice kind of thing to do, but there's nothing about it that really blows me out of the water.

Not so with the Chalk Festival. I was amazed at the artists' ability to transfer a small piece of art (usually a 8 1/2 X 11" piece of their own, tucked safely in a plastic sleeve) to a huge chalk masterpiece. So impressive. They were all so different--the art and the artists--yet none were inferior.

It was Halloween after all, so some pieces were "friendly" holiday themed:

Others were more classic:

Others were a little creepy, but beautiful still:

Every creator was an artist in every sense of the word--truly masterful in his own right.

It was hardly an easy task, working in the sun on hot asphalt with their pastels spread about the pavement.  Some wore naked hands and knees--decorated with multi-colored bruises from the chalk. Others wore knee pads and gloves as part of their craft and comfort. The mess was a testament to the concentration and hours of plotting and shading.

Seeing so many different kinds of people walking on the sidewalks, looking down at these bold images and their creators in awe, I am reminded of what art does best--it brings people together for a common experience, even if it washes away by tomorrow.

Once in a Lifetime

Ah, the first birthday of the most gorgeous little girl in the world.

How fitting--a dainty pink cake.

"Um...I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do with this.
It's...staring at me."

"Oh. Oh I see. This tastes kind of...mmmmm....So THIS is Publix buttercreme.
Seems like I just grasp it with my hands and..."

"...smear it all over. And then sit back in a sugar coma."

"So what happens now?"

Here's the final damage. She did a good job, eh?

I love my little niece. Birthday cake: she totally gets it now.

Window Boxes, Rocking Chairs and Skies

I can usually count on these three unrelated images to reinstitute a feeling of peace.

Flowers and soil attached to the window bring a bit of wildness close to the house, blending manmade structure with a small dose of nature-made inhibition.

There were some good ones last week during our travels.

Windows in the historic district of Charleston

Maybe it's the old subconscious memory of being rocked as a baby that keeps me loving the image of a rocking chair--even when the chair itself might not have been so comfortable.

 

Rocking chairs on the dock in Charleston outside of the Marriott, a one night's stop on our way north to NC

D-Man and Husband chillin' out in rocking chairs on the porch of the beach cottage in NC

I love it that, like life, skies are constant only in their everchanging cloud formations and colors. Somehow, it just works from the vantage point of the human spirit. I find a sort of comfort in that.  Summer in the Southeast is responsible for some pretty dramatic skies--there's a lot of power in those clouds, and they always complete the landscape.

If only the land or ocean could say to the sky,"You complete me." They totally had the patent on that before that creepy Cruise ever said it in that rediculous Jerry Maguire scene. (Sorry, fans of Jerry Maguire and Tom Cruise...can you ever forgive me?)
 

Cotton candy cumulous clouds over the Atlantic Ocean

Subtle sunset over Atlantic Beach

  Not so subtle sunset over Charleston

Summer sky over Fort Sumter, off the Charleston coast, where the Civil War began

Unplugged and Sandy

I opted for the 100% unplugged option over the last 8 days. I even forbid Husband from using the GPS on his phone. The trip to the North Carolina shore was everything I hoped it would be, and I didn't regret being without my laptop. But thirty minutes after arriving home from 13 hours in the car traversing your garden variety of interstates, plus three beautiful hours riding through tobacco and corn fields in eastern NC, here I am blogging.

I thought about you and missed reading your blogs...

Mitzi, I have a great John Irving book for you. I was finally able to finish devouring it while rocking on the porch. Marvin, saw some cool old guns from the Civil War and of course thought of you. Cynthia, I'm soooo excited about the seahorses and thought about you during our trip to the NC Aquarium where we checked out some live ones. Pine Lakes Redhead, there was a beautiful quilt on display in the Core Sound Museum; each square featured a historical piece of one of the tiny communities that dot the far eastern edges of North Carolina. Photo coming soon.

So many of you popped into my head! Nurse Myra--is your vacation from a few weeks ago still sticking with you, or are you back into life as you know it? I always hate to see how quickly traveling days slip away.

Here are a few of my favorite images of Atlantic Beach, North Carolina--my "grandmother's beach," from last week's post.