Some Summer Writings

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Escape

Sometimes I feel like I am involved in far too many situations that involve narrowly escaping calamity. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a survivor. However, I am not content with survival. I must thrive. Sure, I reinvent myself a little here and there along the way, but I thrive.

There was a mosquito flying around this morning inside my car. Both my son and I were swatting at it, and trying to slam it against the windshield, or clap it between two hands, or slap it on a leg, or even smash it on the other's face. However, despite the fact that we actually caught the little bugger a couple of times, we did not kill it. Not that we weren't trying!

However, as the little pest continued to sidestep our every attempt at it's demise, I secretly began to identify with the bug. I was even sort of rooting for it.

Life throws all kinds of things at you. Recognizing the threat is an important step. Taking action to avoid the doom is next, and then breathing a sigh, moving on, and flying headlong back into life is how to stay on track. I am learning this. It is not something that you learn in school. It is instinctive survival and determination that gets me through so much. Humans are resilient but you have to want it, and you have to be proactive.

The frightened (my projection here) little bug continued to dart around the hot interior of my car, with unexpected and unexplained obstacles. By the end of the 10 minute trip, my son and I were both laughing, and the mosquito was still alive.

As my son opened the door to head out to his summer camp, the little bug, determined to survive, and to thrive, though evidently in a new place all together from where he started his journey, flew out into the bright morning sunshine and into the air.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Lazy, or To Be

It feels like the Dog Days in August, and yet, we haven't even reached the Summer Solstice. Looking out the window, it is easy to pretend, from the conditioned air comfort, that it is a beautiful spring day. There is not a trace of a cloud in the sky. Everything is in bloom, with shades of green and vibrant colorful flowers. The sun shines bright and clear. Everything looks crisp.

Then, you walk out side, and it is like you have stepped into another dimension. It feels a bit like the few times I tried Bikram Hot Yoga, forced movement with determination to accomplish a goal. When you step outside now, you are blasted with the heat and humidity, and it takes your breath away. The squirrels hide, and the birds fly as if they mean business, and then are engulfed again into the trees. Even the mosquitoes become invisible during the day. Everything moves at a different pace.

I have tried to slow the pace a bit, too. It is really difficult for me, because it seems sometimes that my life dictates constant action. Perhaps the lazy days of summer are supposed to be exactly that. Time for relaxing, socializing, and moving a little slow. It is a good time to enjoy a New Orleans style Snowball at MAM's in the Heights. Sometimes a cool destination, both in temperature, and in style, is just what is needed to face the Houston summer heat.

Even in the evening, the air is so still, you can almost touch it. Then, later, the breeze begins. Seated on my patio, I can hear the sounds of the city. It comes back to life when the sun goes down. Traffic, sirens, people, breeze, the hum of life, and the music from Miller Outdoor Theatre.

Enjoying the lazy part of the lazy days of summer, slowing the pace, is something I hope to be able to make myself do a little more. Take more time to be.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Trees and Art

Yesterday, as on many Saturdays, my day began with enjoying the friends and food at Monica Pope's Green Plum Cooking School. Today's recipes included sushi components, which Monica referred to as a sort of Scattered Sushi, and also a bean ragout. The food was delicious. The sights, sounds, and delicious smells of the farmer's market, and of breakfast at T'afia get my weekend started on a high note.

I rushed from there to The MFAH Sculpture Garden, where The Art Guys married a Plant. As we entered the garden, there was classical music from a string quartet, seated in the morning sun, as it filtered through the leaves of the massive oaks that grow all around the garden. There was a very formal wedding set-up, and a gathering of somewhere around 300 people. The quartet played, I visited with friends. Then, a hush fell on the crowd, and The Art Guys, dressed in tuxedos, wheeled in a young, beautiful live oak tree on a wagon. They went up to the podium, decorated with tulle and flowers, and the wedding ceremony took place (complete with placing a ring on the tree.)

When you marry, a person or a tree, you promise to care for your partner for life. I was standing there thinking about how a marriage is a partnership. I looked at the spindly little plant that was being married, and thought about how it would grow into a huge plant, and it would care for not only it's new partners, The Art Guys, but for many. It would protect us from the hot June sun, and yesterday was definitely a hot and sultry Houston day. It would give us cleaner air, and all the other things that plants do for us.

Mostly, though, the tree would give us beauty. I have lived in Houston most of my life, and I am still struck by the beauty of the trees in this city. I remember when Fannin was lined with towering palms, and I enjoy the beauty of the live oaks in my neighborhood on a daily basis. I still marvel at the canopy that covers the streets. My children say we travel in tree tunnels.

As the wedding concluded, we crossed the street to the Contemporary Arts Museum, for the reception. Mimosas, wedding cake, speeches, and dancing....

This life cycle event, involving a tree, made me think back to Hurricane Ike, and the massive trees that fell as a result of the storm. One in particular still is a daily memory for me. It was an old oak, in a park near my home. It was covered with vines, and was so green. I remember walking around after the storm, and being in shock when I saw this tree on the ground. It stretched almost half the width of the little park. It was still so quiet, as the area was still without electiricty. I went up to the tree, and thought about all the things that the tree had witnessed in its lifetime. My children and I had a sort of memorial for the tree. A funeral. Much as we think of relatives and friends who have died, I also think of the tree.

So, after celebrating at the tree wedding, and congratulating The Art Guys, and looking at the awesome folk art that local artists have at the museum now, I walked home.

Later in the evening, I got to go to another art thing. It was an opening for local artists, and was a real mixture of media and styles. I met one of the artists. She had a couple of pieces that I admired. They both involved doors. What lies on the other side?