weird barbie

There is a vintage juice glass next to me filled with a few hydrangea flowers that I picked from my yard. Back in the day it was used for jam or jelly. Now I use it for wine, flowers, water, whatever. I have a thing for vintage glasses. We have a fair amount of hydrangea bushes but there is one in particular that is small. Tiny even. Different from the rest. It's unique and stands tall, even though she is the opposite. The other day I picked two flowers but left a couple so that they could keep each other company. The petals are varying shades of greens and pinks and so dainty that I can see the veins. Hydrangea remind me of the north oddly, and definitely of Martha's Vineyard. Even though they grow everywhere. Normally we are on MV this time of year and I miss it dearly. The juice glass with the flowers is filled with water and surrounded by candles. A common setting for me. I get closer to the makeshift vase to see the details of the hydrangea better. I touch the petals expecting silky soft to find they are dry. The flowers are perfectly preserved and incredibly beautiful but no longer thriving, living. The water in the glass has stayed the same level days after it was poured. Preserved as is. Static. Still. 

Some days are gray. Grayer than others anyway. I have been in my head all day. Maybe it's been more than a day but I feel static, like something is preventing me from seeing the sun behind the clouds that are strewn across the sky. I read the toxicity online and I feel it deeply. I feel uncomfortable in my skin. Outside myself. Alone yet surrounded by people. Loved but not necessarily understood. Some days are just like that. You may wonder why I share this. Sometimes I wonder too, lol. But I have the beautiful cloud of anonymity and a tiny blog that not many read. It is vital for me to share though. It is okay not to be okay sometimes. I hopelessly keep my heart on my sleeve because being truly alive means feeling that you can be vulnerable and strong at the same time. Especially in the age of social media where things look like sunshine and butterflies all the time, I have moments where I just feel stupid. I am different. I am Weird Barbie. Most times I am okay with that but there are times it's hard. Some days you feel more mortal than others. Some days I feel more mortal than others. 

So what do I do? I change it up. I practice random acts of kindness to people I know and to people I don't know. As anonymously quiet as I can and even if I am misunderstood in my actions. I put on music. I wear an outfit that I feel good in, myself in. I breathe deeply. I go to the movies. I dance. I go to the farm and pick flowers. I read a book. I cook a colorful meal. I work it out. I realize that it is all part of the process and that is a beautiful thing. This too shall pass. I learn once again that it is all within me to find the good. And when the sun shines, I look up at it so that all the shadows fall behind me, as the quote goes.

Put on Sprinter by Dave & Central Cee and let's get cooking. 

Sprinter - Apple Music

Sprinter - Spotify

This week I got a recipe by email from one of my favorite sites - Smitten Kitchen. The recipe was for Buffalo Chicken Cobb Salad. Couldn't have been easier. I used purple and yellow carrots, brown tomatoes, roasted red pepper - anything I could think of to add color and depth. It was delicious. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

-Amy

scratch my last post

 

Well, don't scratch it, exactly. It has stayed with me, though, this thought. This thought that I didn't dig deep enough. That I was not able to grasp or put into words how I was really feeling when I wrote it. Sometimes I read my posts again after some time has passed and they resonate. Sometimes they don't and sometimes I can't believe I published it at all. I don't really spend a lot of time editing my writing. It is more stream of consciousness. The last one, though, damn. It's like I only scratched the surface of what was going on and didn't really get to the heart of it. I even changed the title of the post several times. Something was clearly missing. 

Realizing this made me think. When I feel something, really feel it, is when I am my most authentic self. My most genuine, most creative me. Those are the posts that are the most well received too. It's like anything. When you see a performance in a movie that really strikes you. For me it isn't the performances that are over-acted. It's the ones that make you feel something because it strikes a chord as the observer/audience member. Watching dancers, musicians, same thing. When I write poetry sometimes people ask me what a particular poem is about. I always ask what they think it is about. Interpretation is up to the person experiencing just as my interpretation is how I feel when I wrote it in the first place. 

A couple of weeks ago I wrote boneless. It was about letting go. For me, it was about not letting fear dictate actions because of how you (I) might be perceived. It was about finding my spontaneity, the inner parts that have crawled back into myself since my father passed away. Currently, I am home alone for a stretch of time. Finding myself with extra time has in equal parts made me cherish the time alone as well as made me want to be social and out of the house. Sometimes it is hard to sit with myself without getting too inside my head. The other night I went out with friends for drinks and a light dinner. It was a beautiful evening. As I drove home I decided I wanted to swim. I have been drawn to the water this summer more so than years prior. So, I got home, stripped my clothes off and went into the water. Skinny dipping. No one could see me. It was completely private. Just me. It felt amazing.

In the past I have written about how I feel like people often treat each other in such a surface or transactional manner. Social media platforms encourage this because people feel more entitled to be passive aggressive and even aggressive in how they share their opinions of others. I read comments people write and am blown away that someone feels okay writing what they are writing without concern for how someone might feel on the receiving end. My goal is to treat everyone like a friend. If we all did a bit more of this, maybe the world would be a little bit more kind. 

Put on It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding) by Bob Dylan and let's get cooking. If you haven't read Chronicles by him, it's worth the read. It won the Nobel Prize for Literature. He is an artist in the truest sense of the word and it is amazing to get into his mind a bit. 

The recipe I am sharing with you today starts with a memory. The first time I tasted this sauce I was blown away. It had some of my favorite tastes but I also remember that dinner like it was yesterday. Sitting outside in the summer air with dear friends. Candles. A little vase of flowers. Wine. Simply perfect. They may not remember this particular evening but the honor of being invited followed by one of those evenings where we all lived in the present and enjoyed the moment, the food, the wine, the air. It has stayed and will stay with me for years and years to come. Love you, Frails. 

Chimichurri Sauce, Bon Appetit, July 2011

1/2 cup red wine vinegar

1 tsp kosher salt plus more

3-4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced or minced

1 shallot, finely chopped

1 Fresno chile or red jalapeno, finely chopped

1/2 cup minced fresh cilantro

1/4 cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley

2T finely chopped fresh oregano

3/4 cup EVOO

 

Combine vinegar, 1 tsp salt, garlic, shallot, and chile in a medium bowl and let stand for 10 minutes. Stir in cilantro, parsley, and oregano. Using a fork, whisk in oil. Remove 1/2 cup chimichurri to a small bowl, season with salt to taste, and reserve as sauce. Put meat in a glass, stainless steel, or ceramic dish. Toss with remaining marinade. Cover and chill for at least 3 hours or overnight.

It is good on anything and everything! Vegetables, meat, fish. And in the summer when everything is fresh you can just pick any herbs from your garden. It is a go to when I am having people over and it always makes me smile and remember. 

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always. 

-Amy

perspective

 

-photo by G. Oshrin

I like to look up at the sky. Day or night. It's mesmerizing to me. I think that way about the ocean too. Vast, mysterious, enticing, exciting, scary, undiscovered, complex. Worlds I can only imagine but that provide depth to viewpoints, life. It makes me feel. 

Perspective. It is like standing amongst a mountain range. I am but one. I am but me. There is so much more out there than me. I am a speck. The world continues long after I am gone and it was long before I was here. It makes me appreciative for my short conscious time on this earth and it gives me anxiety at how quickly it all can be taken away. Carpe diem. Seize the day. Be present. 

"All I can be is me - whoever that is." - Bob Dylan

The sky is limitless. It transcends time. Never ending; it affects everything. Our moods. Our energy. Limitless wonder. It is all interconnected, related, relatable even. It is something we all share on earth. It binds. Doesn't separate. It just is. 

"There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep rolling under the stars." Jack Kerouac

"Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free; Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands; With all the memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves; Let me forget about today until tomorrow." Bob Dylan

Sometimes, I like sitting and just staring at the sky or out at the ocean. It may look like I am not doing anything but it is where the mind roams free and the dreams are large. There is no limit. There is no reality but it is real. It is quiet and it is movement. 

Today, take time to go outside and look up. If you are at the ocean, sit on the sand. Feel the sand between your toes and fingers. Look out. Look up. Don't just daydream. Dare to dream. 

Now, put on I Come Apart by A$AP Rocky (featuring Florence Welch) and let's make some tacos. They are actually incredible. Truly. 

Pulled Chicken Tacos (yes, from Instagram!)

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

-Amy