It's been too cold and gloomy for our taste. Hot soup, good tunes and a blazing fire have been sustaining us.
A little escapism has been our ticket, here's a glimpse of what's been feeding our souls:
1. Winter Jams
A straight up page turner. Part thriller, part family saga, there are so many intricate layers in this "who done it" set at an Adirondacks' summer camp.
3. Playground
This might be our favorite book by Powers, which is saying something - we are huge fans. Playground is astonishing in its tender exploration of our oceans and our humanity.
Shoutout to our friends at Hashimoto for utilizing the power of art to raise funds in support of their LA community. Over thirty incredible artists donated pieces for a raffle - all proceeds went to nonprofit organizations directly helping Angelinos in need. The raffle is over, but there's still plenty to do. If you want to continue to help, check out these organizations out: Mutual Aid LA Network, Pasadena Humane Society, World Central Kitchen.
We unexpectedly lost one of the truly good ones in January, a renown poet and deeply loved family member. Enjoying a cup of coffee in the morning with Uncle Michael was always a gift - a reminder of the power of human connection and good conversation. We're so grateful for the time we had with him and the poetry he left behind.
A Blessing for Friends
Blessed is breakfast
with friends --
mornings that begin
with honest chatter,
eggs and coffee
and talk that matters
as we affirm this space,
these connections,
the grace we make
of this time, this place.
The Presence of Trees
Slowly, I am rememering
the language of awe,
how to take in, say,
the living complexity of a tree
its gnarled trunk,
its ragged bark,
the way its leafy canopy
filters sunlight
down to the brown
carpeted ground,
the way the wind bends my heart
to the exquisite presence of trees
the forest that calls to me as deeply
as I breathe,
as though the woods were
marrow of my bone as though
I myself were tree, breathing, reaching
arc of the larger canopy
beside a brook bubbling to foam
like the one
deep in these woods,
that calls
that whispers home.
Comments