After Thanksgiving and into the first week of December we escaped to my favorite place,
and that’s all I can say.
After Thanksgiving and into the first week of December we escaped to my favorite place,
and that’s all I can say.
November’s main event was the Heritage Holiday Faire at the Mission Mill Museum in Salem. It was a fun intro into the holiday season over the weekend of November 16th, 17th, & 18th. We, my dear friend Heather of Adi Shakti Studio and I, hand-picked this event to participate in because it blended art/craft with vintage.
The backdrop of the Mill made for a magical event but the very best part of the whole experience was working side by side with Heather. She is a beautiful and kind person who is also a very talented artist. I felt privileged to be witness to the conversations she had with patrons regarding her art. I loved watching as people would be drawn to a piece and become more and more involved as she explained to them her process, medium, and thoughts that went into creating it. It was extremely satisfying to see as they expressed genuine excitement in newly owning a piece of Heather’s original art, Adi Shakti Studio.
Writing about this experience, my recall is interesting at it fluxes from the oblivious to the emotional. I feel compelled, again to be grateful. Buying and selling vintage is in itself a simple thing but it’s the ins and outs of moments. Conversations with people, interactions in regards to life and connection wether it’s centered around a vintage piece that reminds someone of a forgotten time or a piece of art that allows them to feel a much needed tether to creativity. It’s easy to get stuck with tunnel vision, waiting for the big picture to reveal the direction to success when in truth just sitting and recalling these simple moments brings the biggest sense of fulfillment.
We, the husband/#1 partner and I left Portland on Friday in the early afternoon. With the beautiful low, fall sun following us from behind we arrived in Astoria as the same sun hovered even lower in the sky. We checked into our motel, dropped our bags, and headed over the Warrenton bridge to pick-up clam chowder at Dooger’s for dinner in our room.
We sat on our little patio over-looking the marina as we ate and listened to the big river.
After the sun went down we took a little walk around the motel, down to the dock and through the marina.
It was simply a breathtaking night.
The next morning we woke up early, grabbed coffee, and headed up a few blocks into town to set-up for the day. From that point on the day was full of great people and good vintage with beautiful Astoria as the back-drop.
I’m very grateful for this last year and all the moments I’ve felt so blessed to live in.
I’m just dreaming now of what the next months will bring about. When you don’t know who you are to be when you are young, then try to parent those that you were just lucky enough to have been a part of bringing into the world, it can be very confusing to figure out what your true purpose is. I just want to remain valid in the lives that mean so much to me while learning more everyday to be present in these moments.
I mentioned in my last post that I had recently downloaded some new music. I’ve been listening to Every Kingdom by Ben Howard non-stop for a few weeks now. Finding out he would be in Portland this week I bought tickets.
Lately, I’m a little embarrassed to admit, I’m like an old lady at concerts. Planning leading up to the show, I’m anxious about eating, parking, and the whole bathroom thing. I always hold on to the slim chance there will be seating and when there’s not I’m anxious about trying to see the stage, annoyed by the crowd, and even though we always threaten to show up late to bypass the opener I just can’t do it for fear I might miss the act I wanted to see. So, leading up to the moment he walked on stage I complained, and complained.
All my complaints went away when he walked on the stage and shifted to time flying by so fast before I knew it he was playing his encore and it was over.
I thoroughly enjoyed him and all in all it was a very nice night with the 2 Bens.
My husband turned 39 Friday and as we sat at a coffee shop in town late in the day talking about the evening to come we realized the kids were both busy for the night with activities and friends so….. we left. Usually when we’re given the opportunity to take a quick getaway we head to Astoria, but since we’re heading there next weekend for The Vintage Flea we decided to venture the opposite direction toward Hood River. We thought we would run by the house, grab a few things, batten down the hatches and hit the road. Instead, as we got back into the car to leave the coffee shop and as if with white-knuckles afraid someone could snatch away our plan if we delayed we decided to just go. Before long we were on I84, headed off on a mini road trip with my IPhone playing it’s latest download. When my one idea for a place to stay in Hood River had no vacancy for the night we decided to head a little further to the Dalles and a little Motel called the Celilo Inn.
We got checked in as the sun was getting low in the sky and a couple hours later I dangled my feet in the pool while my husband took a swim.
That moment was one where I tried really hard to be present. We were the only people in the pool, the air was warm and the sky full of stars. The pool was tucked against the hillside and I kept having that feeling like I could have been a handful of different places, places my memory was playing for me like a slide show, places we vacationed when I was a kid. The shadows danced and played and there was one tree tucked in between the hill and cement bank surrounding the pool that was lit by the poolside lamps but looked like it could have been lit from below by a fire’s glow.
We woke up slowly the next morning and crept our way back toward home.
Just a brief time away but already stored in the bank. On another day when I need to escape but can’t physically go I’ll pull these moments from my memory.
Come again another day and STAY.
You don’t have to agree with me on this or even understand it, but I love the rain. My relationship with rain is not without strain, but as in any relationship we have our beautiful up moments that in turn help us “weather” the downs.
I was born and raised here so I know the rain. This is probably why I feel so endeared to it. It comes with being an Oregonian. A healthy respect for what makes this beautiful place, my home so uniquely beautiful.
I need seasons, I need the change. I look for the little subtleties that tell me when that change is coming. Not to mention, I don’t need 100 degree days and truthfully I don’t even need 90 degree days.
My family is maybe a little ridiculous. I come from farmers and even though I don’t actually farm myself, it’s sort of in me. I hear my family talk, we compare our stories of how we hear and feel those little subtleties that nature offers as her cues. I’m not taking license in saying that, I have family members that actually feel it, an aching in their bones when the rain is on it’s way. I guess there is a scientific explanation for that, something to do with pressure in the atmosphere. For me it doesn’t need an explanation just that it is, a connection.
For the past week or so I have found myself checking for changes in the weather on my phone and computer more than email. I’m just ready for the rain, for that peaceful breath of air that comes in and everything smells better and comes back to life.
This morning, I stood at the counter below my kitchen window. I spend my morning moments there daily attending to my rituals of left over dishes and brewing morning coffee. I often gaze out of my window watching for what the day is going to offer.
There, there is where I saw it. Not much but just that slight whisp of rain. It was lovely. I may not have even noticed it except for the bit of accumulation on our parked cars in the driveway. It lasted a bit and then was done and now I am left with an increased anticipation for more to come.
I’ve brewed a second pot of coffee this afternoon hoping it will act as some sort of interpretive rain dance, a special calling to beckon her back.
So, now I wait….impatiently, waiting.
Once a month since May I have been a vendor at the Portland Flea.
Participating as a vendor at this event has been a completely positive experience for me. I have enjoyed every aspect from being surrounded by a community of creative and amazing vendors, to interacting with the kindest and most enthusiastic shoppers. All of that and, each month we all make our home for the day in the most perfectly suited venue Union/Pine.
Here’s a few pictures of each of my booths from the past few months at Portland Flea.
As of August the event has almost doubled in size with vendors participating outside also. Next scheduled Portland Flea is set for October 21st, and it is certain to be a wonderful day!
It’s stacking up to be an exciting weekend! I was asked several weeks ago by Bridget Murray, owner of LundynBridge Events to participate in her companies launch party. It’s been sheer delight anticipating this event with Bridget and I am really looking forward to seeing everything come together for this fun-filled Saturday night.
So…..it also seemed the perfect time to debut my Mother’s Day project with my collaborative partner Heather Anderson of Adi Shakti Studio. Heather and I are very excited to be collaborating again, and just like our Valentine project we have merged both our efforts to bring to you a floral arrangement just perfect to give to your mom this Mother’s Day.
Everyone is welcome Saturday night, I hope you’ll come out and have some fun and while you’re at it we can help you get Mother’s Day wrapped up too!
It could just be that I am over analysing, I’ve been known to do just that on occasion but I’m not sure I had anticipated feeling so connected to the even-flo of life through work. More simply, I’ve been given the opportunity to arrange flowers for people in preparation for their most joyous events but for a few it’s been at a time of grieving and deep sadness. Most deeply felt personally with my own grandmother’s passing last year. Even more poignant for me was the connection I never knew I had to her through flower arranging, but that’s a whole other story….
It’s sort of interesting how it all builds, not only because of each occasion but because of the time I have to reflect on that specific moment in time while working on each project.
Last week I was asked by one of my closest friends to arrange flowers for the passing of one of her oldest clients, Bonnie. The flowers were to be delivered to the same church that just last summer I had delivered and set-up for a wedding. I never personally had the pleasure of meeting Bonnie but after delivering the flowers to the church I stopped in to visit my friend at her salon where Bonnie had come for years. Many of the other girls at the salon had also known Bonnie and it was truly uplifting to hear all of them speak to her spunkiness and zest for life.
I feel really blessed by these momments, not only in times of sadness but also when I get to hand a happy-faced bride her bouquet. It all reminds me of what life is, and what it’s truly about.