Julio en Mosaico

1. more bike love., 2. In memoriam, 3. This is my treasure chest., 4. the hats, they find us., 5. Not available, 6. Not available, 7. Not available, 8. Not available, 9. Not available, 10. Not available, 11. Not available, 12. Not available, 13. Not available, 14. clares home, 15. childs play, 16. smile.

July thoughts to follow after the yoga--burst of cleaning--morning pages trifecta. Hopefully situating the cleaning in between the other two will sustain my mellow ;)

Walking Wednesdays

It never ceases to amaze me how one can walk the same route time and time again and fail to notice the most amazing colors, textures, and compositions just waiting to be encapsulated in your viewfinder.
On this walk I decided that I no longer want to let myself be intimidated by others, possibilities, the state of American democracy, or even myself. I only want to feel dwarfed by trees doing yoga with limbs contorted and outstretched, an expansive sky, rusty mesas, lush mountains, torrential storms--by the power of mother nature.

It also amazes me how simply electing to walk on the other side of the street can thrust one into an entirely new realm of sensations, impressions, and mindfulness.
I walked past that leaf and stopped dead in my tracks--turned around and gazed at it, noting its solidarity, the rich gold against the monochrome sidewalk, the drops of dew intact.
A few blocks before that beauty, I had stumbled across a pile of severed trunks and limbs stacked thickly on a parkway awaiting removal. I felt moved to take this picture of its heart meat.
A few weeks ago two trees were hacked down on my block and I can't shake the feeling of loss when I go outside. Thinking about how the elm across the street was the same one I ricocheted off just after I had my training wheels removed. Now when I step off my stoop the sun is glaring. I walk down the street and everything is changed. The lighting. Now there are these gaping holes that I cannot forget.
On my walk I remember smelling cinnamon, dryer sheets, and construction. I love the smell of construction--freshly dug up earth mixed with sawdust.

I used to feel dwarfed by "photography" in part because many of my friends are enrolled in photography programs but more due to the fact that I allow myself to be intimidated by new things. It's the perfectionist in me: if I can't start this new thing and do it perfectly from day one or after a month I quit. But now I'm prescribing to the idea that if you love something do it (at least as far as photography is concerned). I've accepted the fact that every frame I shoot is not going to be magnificent. In fact most of them are going to suck. In making a daily practice of it, however, I trust that I will slowly learn to see or rather my lens will learn to see through me.

In thinking back on the countless opportunities for exploration and growth that I've ignored simply because I let myself be intimidated by the idea of other people already knowing what they're doing and what they want, feeling worthless before I even begin, I was angry at myself. Thinking maybe I'd already be that person I'm supposed to be right now. Regardless, I want to do the things that terrify me--that Improv class, vlogging... because if I can do it I know I will be closer.

In that vein, I want to start a Walking Wednesday blog that encourages people to start walking and taking pictures of the things that inspire them to share. While I like the alliteration, the importance of Wednesday is linked to it being the middle day--"hump day," as it were and therefore a time when walking is (imho) necessary. More on this project later as it starts becoming more tangible but I'm really excited about starting something!

This means a new vintage hat may be in order :)

- ♥ -
Larushka

Clare lives in trees and borrows the chalk.

she told me her name was Clare., originally uploaded by kaliji.

I sat down with the intention to paint an ogre or giant (more about that project later) and became possessed by Clare. The drawing flowed out. Perhaps she is a tree spirit. This morning she showed me where she lives and plays.

Her eyes draw me in--coupled with the pointy ears her gaze seems impish. The full lips. The obstinate neck. One things for sure, she is a warrior.

Gesso, Charcoal, Graphite, & Acrylic.

- ♥ -

Love From Chicago.

This week we explored Chicago like a new breed of tourist--one without purpose but with a sense of direction. How silly to deprive myself of the best attractions my city has to offer because of my disdain towards those who adhere to the beaten path and its sickening commercialism.
In truth, I have found that it is also those whose goal it is to live "off the beaten path" who are deluded for they naively believe that path less traveled is not comparably commercial and restricting. Na'mean?

First stop: a water taxi to Navy Pier. The driver was fond of our Chucks (furry leopard print and classic black, respectively) and we were fond of his very important dreadlocks.The Museum of Modern Art is free on Tuesdays. This was in the shop--where I agonized for a good hour about which books I couldn't live without. I decided on The 1000 Journals Project, The Guerrilla Art Kit, and This Book Will Change Your Life (in a facetious sort of way).
We had the pleasure of seeing Cindy Sherman's work.MOMO also has free jazz concerts Tuesday nights --a swanky cashbar on the patio and couples picnicking on the lawn below.We fell in love with this place and its amazing gelato. It took a lot of staring and a few taste tests but we opted for Chocolate/Spumoni and Pistachio/White Chocolate.She wanted to show me the sunset over the city.
I pretended to be foreign.
So many beautiful accents and people.We had sat at this beach earlier.The fountain in front of L'Appetito at night.
We both have a thing for falling water--from both natural and human-made structures.
We seek out secret fountains and waterfalls. The only caveat was that we spent an unholy wad of cash on coffee at Starbucks and Ghiradelli and it was mere water dressed in brown. This is my disappointed face.Luckily dashing out of one's car and dancing randomly in subdivision parking lots and at railroad crossings can cure the bad coffee (and most) blues.
...
I've been thinking a lot about decision making this week--and in just looking over this post it is evident that I have serious probs when it comes to making them. When you stare at an ice cream freezer in Jewel for forty minutes before deciding which two flavors to purchase, you need help. If I freak out about the most inconsequential of decisions--how can I decide which college to transfer to? How will I make the right decision about the the things that are important? Simple: stop agonizing about making the right decision in the first place, pooface.

- ♥ -

I can hear you smile 30 miles away.

smile., originally uploaded by kaliji.

Putzing around with a drawing kit (eep!) that has been gathering dust --a quick sketchy sketch.
I have been flirting with the idea of taking an art class or two before I transfer knowing that once I transfer I will be too discouraged to pursue courses outside my major. My yet to be defined major that is--ideally an amalgamation of three of the following: Communications/Film, Women's Studies, Anthropology, Sociology, English/Comparative Literature, Spanish. With a major in English and a minor in Spanish I can pursue certification to teach English abroad during summers which is the most appealing with the quickest gratification right now....hmmm.
As life tends to plant, however discretely, opportunities to fulfill your desires along the path-- I might be able to take a drawing class for free, compliments my favorite pervy barista. He keeps asking me to model for his drawing class (incentive being that the class would then be free). He asked Agent Pineapple as well and I would think that if it was nude he wouldn't approach it so nonchalantly, although a class where there are models to be drawn in charcoal with clothes on seems to be a rarity. I will have to look into this further. If it checks out, the soul-crushing factor implicit in formal art instruction could be sidestepped and for free!

Today's wisdom courtesy of Yogi Tea: "Your greatness is not what you have, it's what you give."

Agent Pineapple and I are each looking for volunteer opportunities in our area, I have felt a disconnect for the past couple of years that I have been relatively uninvolved save for the occasional march/protest. I spoke with a woman from the YWCA and am considering rape victim advocacy--I just wish I knew if I have the strength before pursuing the intensive training. Another hmmm.

- ♥ -

PS: Question for my blogger users: Do you know how to make uploaded pictures larger without losing quality? I always upload using the "large" setting but it's just not large enough for my liking.

Weekend happy.

Selling at the flea market is hard work (the 4am -ness alone) but it is certainly an adventure.
Hats are like cats--they find you and we love it when they do!
Agent Pineapple is sporting a bright pink sun hat with contrasting embroidered flowers on the side while I am modeling a metallic paisley pillbox.

not as many vintage bikes as i had hoped. next time i hope to fall in love and bring one home.This majestic couch was left behind by a seller.
Decidedly, we fell in love with it's tackyness (see the barrel sides) and redness.
We wanted to bring it home and restore it.
But we had not the room to haul it.
It's for the best though--the possibility of roach eggs, heroine needles, or blood money taking refuge in the folds of sticky vinyl were too great.So we had a photosession, much to the amusement of the remaining sellers and loitering customers.This picture will mark my last day smoking.50 cents worth of joy that I can't wait to fill with my dreams and found treasures.

- ♥ -

My muse.

- ♥ -