Snapshots With Words

I have not written much of anything in years, I suppose I just didn't have the heart to. I often wanted to write, and would get the computer out and open it up in order to begin, but then I just could not write. I don't really know that I would call it writer's block; I don't consider myself a writer and, in any  case, it was more like broken heart syndrome. Yesterday I watched the Netflix documentary on Shania Twain and honestly it spoke to me a great deal. I never realized who she was, really. Basically, a strong woman who speaks her mind and ended up living in Europe and divorced after having a kid and just kept having to pick up the pieces and keep going, many different times. This is not meant to be a blog about her story; rather it is a testimony to the power of stories and honesty. What it means when you hear a story about what someone went through and you can relate to that; there are no words to describe the way that that can change you forever. Here is an entr...

I am sitting here. Again, in the dim light of an afternoon, while my now two and a half year old son is sleeping in the next room. Normally I love the light. The more natural lighting, the better. But ever since my son was born, many of my most peaceful and quiet moments have taken place in darkness, so he can sleep peacefully, and as early as possible. The latter of course is for both his benefit and mine. Sleep breeds sleep, so "they" say, and it is so important for the development of busy young brains that are learning about everything in the world around them. For parents, sleeping children also offer succor and relief that is much needed. The physical need to write comes to me as I awaken to find that my landscape has changed dramatically. Places have changed, players have been added, and roles of some players have altered. Truths about myself have come to light, some good and some not so good. I don't know what I need to say, but I need to write. I need to...

In Sweden, as in many other countries in Europe, Christmas is celebrated on the 24th, or Christmas Eve. So the day of (the 25th) is rather quiet and although it is not a day of celebration, most shops and things are closed. That is perfectly fine. Now, the day AFTER Christmas (26th) is a bit rough, because on this day things are still not up and running. Of course you have everything (almost everything) that you need at the local grocery store, but it feels just a bit odd to have a sort of day after (25th) the day after (26th) kind of pause. Especially if you have chosen to stay in town for the holidays. And this particular year that is 2018, the day before the Eve, or if you prefer, the day before (23rd) the day before (24th) Christmas day (the 25th, even though it sort of is the 24th), many important shops were also closed. So we really have had a sort of 23, 24, 25, 26 type of holiday-not-holiday this year and it feels a bit odd and in this particular post, a little bit like math. B...

I love this shot I captured the other day with my "camera phone" (Brooklyn 99, Greg Holt). When we were preparing to leave Graz with our baby boy who was just a few months old, I read this article about how you should move to Sweden if you want to move to the future. (I did a quick Google search right now and did not come up with the same article). This picture basically embodies the "Dreaded" version of the future in my mind; the one where colors have ceased to exist because the soil is no longer fertile, and the concrete jungle looms over everything. And yet I find the lines and the light exquisite and not at all dreadful. The light on this particular day was what made me look up and see the birds perched by the window. I had never noticed this building before. We have now lived in Gothenburg for one year and some weeks, and I've walked by the building in that picture probably hundreds of times on my way to buy baby diapers and formula. Never stopping to...

Why do I so love winter?  The cold and desolation speak to me and without fail call me out of the house each year on a truly cold day.  I like the muffled sounds of the cold;  when only the brave venture out of doors and the birds don their plush winter layers.  Fog and chimney smoke and the white of my breath dancing all around are intoxicating,  and the air is so refreshing I take satisfying gulps.      My only companions around "Hilmteich" this morning are a couple of dogs in coats with their owners,  and one solitary student wearing shorts and leggings and walking fast in order to stay warm,  be on time for class at the university; or both. She chose a daring outfit for -6° C (21° F) at 7:30 in the morning. When I exited our building this morning to embark on my restless need to escape into nature, I walked right into the busy world of a school morning.  Children getting on and off of the tram and...

Living in a foreign country has its advantages and disadvantages.  One particularly fun aspect is hunting for foods that remind me of home.  Somehow they just taste that much sweeter for being so elusive.  Here in Graz we have bakeries everywhere, and all of the pastries offered are delicious.  Croissants, chocolate filled and whole wheat variations, Topfentasche which are filled with a fluffier version of cream cheese, and Nuss Schnecke which is the Austrian version of a cinnamon roll.  But we like what we like, and the beauty in the details of life are the scents and sounds and tastes that are linked to our favorite memories of our youth or certain places we've lived and people we have known. You might be wondering how I can write about pastries with all the unrest in the states with the upcoming elections.  I am doing my part to vote from abroad and live well one day at a time, because that is what we are all fighting for the chance to do; live our liv...

Some might call this evening in the mountains boring, quiet or slow.  For me the opposite is true.  Each sound is so loud it almost hurts my ears: The river rushing relentlessly past, with no break in the momentum; small creatures of the night declaring their existence, and the occasional far off motorized vehicle making its way home or to the gas station for a pack of cigarettes.  From our 8th floor balcony I can hear the occasional family as they walk, bike or drive back to the hotel from town. Summer evenings are enchanted.  The world is at rest, happy and content, with no deadlines or places to be for several hours at least. The river is a paradox of racing, rushing fervor and soothing sounds that have the ability to lull one to sleep.  An organized frenzy of activity that, when observed from a distance creates a sense of peace and clarity.  We can suddenly see the big picture; we know the direction of the current.  And it will continue on t...

I sit in the candlelight on a mild summer evening, the sounds of neighbours mingling with the farther off noise of  sporadic traffic on the nighttime streets. The German conversation drifts in amidst laughter while the neighbor below is watching some type of African television show from his home. A slug near my elbow startled me, and I watched him crawl around the candle lantern and slowly and painstakingly off of the table. To think this all began because the cat Misty and I spotted a moth inside the apartment and this was my master plan to lure him back outside where he belongs.

A new way to blog. This is something I wrote last year in my journal. I decided to take pictures and share it this way. In summary, these things make up who we are, and we can remember and cherish and put into perspective both the good, the great, and the "bad."

Dreams can be so vivid.  Sometimes mine are dramatized like a movie, complete with the subtleties of emotionally charged acting and a soundtrack tailored to fit the story and add to feelings of intensity and moments of suspense.  Last night's went something like this... Two companions on a journey through vine filled jungles, along the banks of large bodies of water and up steep mountainous climbs.  The first woman is our point of view and has offered to guide the second woman on this journey to safety.  Risk is uppermost in this story, as the antagonist serves a dark cause and is uncertain whether her guide will lead her back to her people's ship on a far away sea.  But the danger is too great in this unknown part of the world and so the antagonist chooses to trust.  She is an attractive adventurer, with chestnut dreadlocks falling over her shoulders and she is clad in loose fitting clothing of neutral browns and beige. We only see through the eyes of th...

The melting snow drips on my balcony in an unsteady rhythm, and sounds of Bach's cello suite in C minor arranged for theorbo fill my dining room. The theorbo is an old lute-like instrument developed in Florence Italy in the 1580's, according to lutenist Lynda Sayce. This particular recording was played by theorbist Pascal Monteilheit. It makes me think of the old instruments my husband and I saw in Venice during our trip just before Christmas of last year. My parents and Christopher and I had separated for the afternoon to do our exploring in pairs, and after meeting up at the end of the day discovered happily that the four of us all stumbled on the Museo della Musica , a museum of old stringed instruments. Some of the instruments dated as far back as the 16th century, and among the instruments we saw an Amati crafted double bass. As a violist I particularly enjoyed seeing the viola d'amores, viola da gambas, and finally the modern viola. Before finding the museum we ...

Ah... controversy, such a friendly topic. Healthy controversy is welcome. I just have a few thoughts on the subject. Speak freely and don't pretend, but remember that each individual person and situation has its unique problems, strengths, goals, etc. One very unhealthy train of thought that I am only now identifying as being very silly, is the tendency towards thinking that because one thing is healthy or "right" for one person or one group of people, that it should be healthy or "right" for me. That is a very unhealthy personal philosophy to have. God made us all individual. That's not an excuse to be lazy, sloppy, wasteful or rude, but it is a good reason to do what we understand to be right for us. Group thinking is pretty much always a bit dangerous if taken too far, and I think that extends to religious views as well. If one thing is made very clear in the Gospels written by the Apostles of Jesus, I think it is that our heart motivation is the most imp...

Meandering down a wooded path on my husband's arm, absorbing the beauty of this wintry, fresh snowed paradise, finds me in the only place I want to be in this moment. As we walk along slowly I can feel the roughness of his wool coat brush my cheek as I turn to look up at him and tell him how beautiful this day is to me. We walk to a familiar park, but on an unfamiliar path. The discovery makes life new again. Around each bend treasures wait, and every time it surprises me to find the beauty of nature in a city. I grew up in the countryside, miles away from even a small town, so finding a breathtaking path by a stream or through the trees seems miraculous. The wooden fence along this particular stream has almost two inches of snow balancing on its ledge. The stream is a dark shadowy color in late afternoon with only an hour or so before darkness envelops it, and the snow white trees on its bank create a breathtaking contrast. My husband waits excitedly for me to catch up wit...

Here is a glimpse into my mental musings of late. To my left on the coffee table sits the sheet music for "Four Hymns for Tenor and Viola" written by Ralph Vaughn Willams. My husband and I are working on the last two hymns for an upcoming concert. Outside the window to my right I can hear the intermittent sounds of a tram or a car passing by. At this hour on a Sunday evening most people are at home relaxing and preparing for the week ahead. The bells at the Graz Herz Jesu Church ring every weekday evening at 7:00, signaling the end of the workday. On Sunday mornings the bells toll at 9:15, just in time to remind you to start making your way to church. Sundays in Graz are quiet; with all of the businesses closed save cafes, restaurants, and one Spar supermarket at the Hauptbahnhof. Klimpt, my faithful viola, reclines on the love seat to my right, and sounds of my husband cooking drift down the hallway from the kitchen to my left. The mood in here is warm and peaceful, now that...

Having just passed our one year anniversary of living in Austria, my perspective has been tilting along with the earth's axis, albeit in its own unique rhythm. I'd say we're just coming out of winter and into a warm, lovely spring, as far as my mood is concerned. One thing I have always valued in life is honesty. Nothing gets my goat more than when parents leave out the challenging portions of their youth through the retelling of stories to their children. If human kind suffers from feelings of inadequacy, then only telling people about the sunny days will make them wonder if the world as they know it is coming to an end every time a bit of a storm gathers overhead. I am speaking metaphorically, though my thoughts are drawn to the first images of hurricane Sandy's devastation in the Eastern portion of my country. They should be waking up in a few hours to see what kind of damage occurred during the night. The leaves are gathering in the courtyard behind our apartmen...

While traveling by train from Stuttgart, Germany, to Graz, Austria, my husband and I who have been living in Austria for nearly eight months had the privilege of overhearing a fellow American. We were sitting across the isle from a lovely couple who looked like newlyweds. The pair spoke to one another in German as well as a middle-eastern sounding language, and they used English to order coffee and to politely ask if we could take their picture. Here in Europe one has the privilege of intermingling with people who have learned to dedicate time becoming familiar with other cultures and languages. Stuttgart Marktplatz While we enjoyed a beautiful view out of our picture window of the German and Austrian landscapes, our serenity was interrupted momentarily when we heard a man's voice utter in a southern American accent the words, "dumb ass." It was not long before we had confirmation that he was a traveler with little interest in learning about new cultures, when he c...

I must clarify one thing before I begin:  The country listed in the title of this post is Austria. A horrifyingly popular belief among American citizens is that this is the land where kangaroos live. Oh wait, I said Austria, not Australia. This country with a rich history including Roman occupation, Napoleon's failed conquest of Graz, the birth of the Viennese coffee tradition, and the truth about Croissants is located in Europe. Austria neighbors Germany, Hungary, Switzerland, Slovenia, Slovakia, Italy and the Czech Republic. Popular belief has named the French as being the inventors of this deliciously delightful pastry filled with tender, melt in your mouth, buttery goodness, but the truth as far as we know it gives "croissant genius" credit to the Austrians. The legend of the croissant is one shrouded in mystery, with references to the Turks as possible originators, and Budapest is also included on the list. It is even said that monks around 1000 AD began makin...

I am sitting inside of our old fashioned Graz apartment, with high ceilings and windows that overlook the street where the Stra β enbahns, or street cars, pass by every few minutes.  If I am feeling poetic enough they sound like waves crashing on the sea shore.  I can imagine seagulls flying overhead and a soft blue heaven with delicate clouds accentuating the scenery composed of sand, rocks, and gentle bluffs that embrace the foaming sea.   Our Austrian apartment is on what Americans would call the second floor, but what to a German speaking European is the “Erste Stock,” or first floor.  My favorite room is the living room, where I am sitting now, with its high ceiling, tall windows, and an old wooden floor that is perfect for reflecting the softened light from the sun as it sneaks past the tops of the many storied buildings and comes in through our windows.  The structures are all built together so that they look like one and the same building, or gi...

Winter Musings | Authspot  Follow this link to read my short story.

When I lived in Saraland, Alabama where I attended college at the University of Mobile, I moved off campus the second semester so that I could afford my living expenses. Thankfully, my tuition was covered with scholarships and grants, but I still needed to come up with my basic living expenses. I lived in a three bedroom apartment with two roommates, and with the high humidity levels and less than impressive building methods, the floors creaked and the outdoor wooden stairs leading to our second story apartment, as well as the wooden railing on our balcony were considerably weathered. I remember my early twenties as being the time in life that I was the most inspired to change things. Everything was new, and my optimism was at its highest. Next door to us lived a woman with her husband and young daughter, and I often stopped to chat with her on my way in or out of my apartment. I desperately wanted to spend time with her, as she was a lovely woman, probably not much older than ...