Taking Time

I have the place to myself for awhile. I am reunited with this feeling of having an immense amount of time to spend and when I realise this, I have to push down the accompanying guilt I feel; the guilt that has been ingrained so long in a life that has been far too busy. Something keeps whispering, "But there must be something needing to be done!" When I hear that, I have learned that it is something that is not myself.

It is now past ten in the evening and I have just come in from the hammock on the porch. I don't know if I have ever done that - lain out in the dark on a hammock - but in that time that I did, I have caught a glimpse of the girl I used to be. I miss her intensely and I understand that at the core of her, she understood what it was to be loved by God and that that was all she ever needed. I'm trying to remember what that feels like now. It's going to take time.

But fortunately, time is what I now have.

Date Ideas #1: Old-School Games

Chad going for the kick in Paper Football.

Since the start of our marriage, Chad and I have always worked together in some capacity. After the first few years of having too many work conversations over dinner, we decided that something needed to change. So we implemented the weekly Sacred Date Night.

In reality, we just call it "date night", but we've come to regard it with such respect that it is pretty much sacred to us. No phone calls, no rainchecks, no multi-tasking. This is our time alone.

After talking to other couples, I realised that this idea was a popular (and much sought-after) one, but whether due to time or lack of inspiration, many couples don't implement this. So as we've been doing this now for over five years, I thought I'd help eliminate one of those reasons and start a new list of date ideas. Some of them may seem silly but as the point of date night isn't to be majorly productive, we didn't see this is as a problem...

#1: Old School Games
Remember games as a kid? Ones that didn't involve a power supply? Go down memory lane and share your favourite childhood games together. Here are some ideas to get you started:

• Knucklebones/5 Stones
  This was what I played when exams were over and you were simply sitting in the classroom filling time.
• Paper Football (see photo)
  The less-painful version for the dining room table. See here for instructions. Or click here for a pretty entertaining video tutorial.
• Board Games (e.g. Twister, Candy Lane, The Game of Life)
• Marbles
• Fold paper airplanes
  For added mileage, borrow an origami book from the library and learn how to fold different kinds of planes. Then set up a target area and try to send your planes into it.
• Basketball
  Set up mugs around the room. Using crumpled-up pieces of paper as balls, try to get them into the mugs from a designated position.
• Pac-Man
  Ok, this one is kind of cheating. But I think most people will agree that Pacman is a classic. If you have an iPod touch, iPhone or iPad, download "Pac-Man Lite" for free and take turns trying to eat those white dots as fast as you can.

Much-needed Disturbance

This has been an eye-opening week.

I know I can be cautious and thrifty (to the point of penny-pinching). But last month had been one of those in which I found myself thinking several times, "If I get through this, next month is going to be awesome." Well, I got through it.

Suddenly, things looked different. I thought about all the time spent doing safe things, unnecessary things, and all the effort spent worrying and saving for some contingency plan for an unforeseen disaster. I didn't like that thought and decided I needed some inspiration.

A panda at Huangzhou Zoo, Zhejiang, China.
Photographer: Xiaoqun Zheng
I know I might be criticised for this but this
was the photo that got me most emotionally.

On Monday, I took Chad to the World Press Photo Exhibition for our weekly date night. It was a surprise and he was delighted. I, on the other hand, wasn't sure what to expect, being more of a post-production kind of gal. But by the end of it, I was changed.

The photos I saw represented so much hurt and despair on a level that I, in my cloistered world, have only ever heard about. Parents outliving their children through war, children with acid-splashed faces, women who play sports in secrecy for fear of persecution...these are scenarios that exist only in movies for me.

We came away silent, and after some time, both of us expressed that the exhibition had been a much needed disturbance.

So to myself and anyone who might be reading this, take this away: silver linings only come to those who have their eyes open. Get off that couch, give generously, don't wait to cash on in those gifts that God has given you and love, love, love fiercely.

Why I Don't Want to be a Unicorn

In trying to tell people about acrobatics, what it is, and why I love it, I usually get one of two reactions:
1) "You're crazy, but in a good way."
2) "You're just crazy."

I think I've realised why both these reactions feel unsatisfactory to me: it makes me feel like a unicorn.

Unicorns are very rare creatures - so rare in fact that they're extinct. People don't think about unicorns on a regular basis, but when they do, they regard them with a mixture of fascination and the knowledge that they need to hold them at arm's length. This is because people who cuddle unicorns, as bright and shiny as they may be, are generally frowned upon by society.

I don't want to be a unicorn. I want to be a dog. A big fluffy golden retriever that people want to engage with. When I say, "I do acrobatics", I want people to react to it like I just said, "I run," or even, "I love golf." I want there to be a chance that people will say, "Hey, me too! We should do it together sometime!"

The process of becoming a unicorn: This means more to me than just being able to do handstands.

The process of becoming a unicorn isn't without its upsides though. In a strange way, I can't help but relate this to sharing my faith in God. Now, I realise that in saying this, I've made myself an even rarer kind of unicorn, the acrobatic God-loving kind. And how many of those are there?

Being uncomfortable in life was definitely not my goal. But I'm beginning to understand why it's so important. At the end of my life, I want to know that I stood for the things that are not only important to me, but important for the future. And you just can't do that by sitting on the fence.

Not Your Cookie-cutter Cards

"Tongue-tied": my favourite card featured in front.
Maybe it's a little cheesy but it still makes me grin
everytime I see it!

I was running low on cards to give away. Sure, I had a range of blank cards that I had somehow accumulated and was keeping for a social emergency. But given the time, a homemade card is always my first choice for any occasion.

So I dug out my beloved drawing pen and (feeling somewhat like a child again) my coloured pencils. Some nice heavy paper and one season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer later, I have a brand new collection on limited edition cards hot off the press!

Now that was therapeutic!

Pumpkin Pancakes: When Vegetables Collide

I absolutely love it when food looks messy 

and still looks good. So my serving suggestion: 

put a couple of pancakes on your plate, drizzle 

golden/maple syrup all over in errant patterns 

and throw on some stewed apples on the side. 

For the final pièce de résistance, slap 

a few dollops of whipped cream on top 

(make sure it makes that slapping sound 

as it hits the pancakes), look at it, 

slap on some more, and voilà!

My inner-American is showing.

An errant remark from a colleagues about how cheap pumpkin is right now (89 cents) had me dreaming up Thanksgiving menus and kitchens filled with the scent of cinnamon and clove.

Although I'm not a huge fan of pumpkin, I've had good success with recipes including this strange ingredient. Pumpkin pie, pumpkin cake...why not pumpkin pancakes? I jumped on Google and found what I was looking for right here. Have I mentioned I love Allrecipes?

So...
The verdict: Light and fluffy pancakes which are surprisingly filling (I was only able to eat 3 in one sitting). I especially love the bright orange mac-and-cheese colour of these puppies.

Best accompaniment: Stewed apples and whipped cream (don't you dare reach for that aerosol stuff...go for the real thing). I even cheated a little and added more veggies to the mix in the form of chokos to the stewed apples. Healthier breakfast, yes please. See below for recipe.

This would be great for: Chilly winter mornings, those who are homesick for American Thanksgiving-cuisine and people who think pancake stacks are beautiful.

Here's my recipe for Stewed Apple and Choko. I hope you weren't expecting exact measurements. Don't worry, you can't get it too wrong:

Ducky's Stewed Apple and Choko

2-3 tart apples, large cubes

1-2 chokos, skinned and cubed

Couple of lugs of butter (real butter, not margarine)

Approximately 1/2 tsp cinnamon

Roughly 1 tsp brown sugar

Some grated orange zest (optional)

Chuck it all in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and cover. Put the heat on low and sweat the mixture while you're making the pancakes. Stir every so often if you remember. The stew should be falling apart and ready to be served just as you're cooking up your last pancake.

Cheap Thrills #2: Create a Fake Band

In general, fun stuff is only as fun as you make it. So it's probably best to suspend any pooh-poohing that might be lurking in the corner of your soul before you try this one. Otherwise, you'll probably just have a terrible time. So shut up and grab a pen!

I ended up doodling Chad's album cover 

while he was composing his salsa/trip-hop 

number on GarageBand.

1) Get your Band Name
Go to Wikipedia and click on "Random Article" on the left-hand column (or you could just click here). The header of the article that comes up is your band name. Mine was "Gandaki Zone".

2) Get your Album Title
Go to The Quotations Page and click on "Random Quotes" on the left-hand column (once again, you can just click here). Scroll to the last quote. The last 4 or 5 words of that quote is your album title. Mine was "Being Left 50,000 Pounds".

3) Get your Album Cover
Go to Flickr and click on "Explore" (magic link here). The 3rd picture is your album cover. Mine, perhaps appropriately so, was a picture of some hip-hop dudes making the peace sign.

4) Now What?
Get your creative juices flowing by writing a couple lyrics to your fake band's award-winning song. Or if you're a muso, try pumping out a couple of measures from your album (GarageBand is kind of fun for this).

This activity gets some extra hype if you do this with someone else. Along with the strange feeling of being five again, both of you will probably bust out into some "I'm-so-embarrassed-we're-doing-this-thing-but-it's-actually-kind-of-fun" giggles at some point in time. And nothing brings people together like shared vulnerability!

A Re-Cap

Acro(batics) is a weird thing. After a huge spike in the first month of realising what I could do, I suddenly had one day where I could not do a handstand against a wall. No matter how much I threw myself into it, I'd come down again without even hitting the wall. It got to a point where I was actually wondering if I just had too much hair and if it was throwing my balance off.

I stopped trying (handstands, not acro) for about a month.

Today, after too much white flour and pizza, I told my lazy butt to get up there and do it again. And so I did. Again and again. The photo looks terrible but I'm really celebrating (as much as possible while upside-down). The feeling of talking yourself out of self-doubt and experiencing success must be pretty much on par with doing something for the very first time. It's not over yet!

The Office

Apple cinnamon muffin and a cappuccino:
the perfect companions for the morning's work.

Riding the lift today with a cappuccino in one hand and a cinnamon muffin (x3) in the other, I was struck by how much I love my desk job.

When people hear the phrase "desk job", there seems to be an automatic reflex involving gagging and profuse statements that they could never settle into one. I know because I'm one of those people.

As a kid, I used to dream of being a daytime dancer and then, when the sun set, I'd change out of my leotard and become a night time detective. Having a desk job was nowhere on the horizon.

And yet I have to admit that now I love office culture. I love all the trappings that come with it: the coffee, the chats between cubicles, being able to festoon my area with my own brand of decor, the faint resemblance to being in an airport lounge. For me, it evokes the better scenes from "You've Got Mail" or "Julie and Julia". I like being able to churn through tasks accompanied by my morning toast, and just as equally love being able to leave it all behind at the end of the day and still feel satisfied.

Being "all grown up" now, I've become aware of how rare it is to really enjoy what you do and that makes me even more determined to love wherever I am. Maybe one day, I'll start yearning for that dancer/detective career again. But for now, it's enough just to be content.

The Walking Dead

Scenes like this just look better on TV.

Someone just needs to say it. As non-parents, we sometimes feel like we're surrounded by zombies. And not the get-up-and-run-after-you kind. No, it's usually the moaning, shuffling variety that we're confronted by. I won't go into anymore details just in case I run the risk of turning into the moaning sort myself.

On the other hand, I found myself incredibly and pleasantly surprised today by my friends. Maybe even a little inspired. These friends of mine (who I should probably add are a couple) have been some of the most adventurous jetsetters we know. So I was a little nervous to find out that they were expecting a kid. From what parents tell me, the words "adventure" and "children" don't usually sit well together.

We finally caught up with them after several months of them settling into parenthood (I'm really fast-forwarding the story here) and were surprised to find out that they were taking a trip to Christchurch pretty soon. On further conversation, we found out that this was a "practice trip" for them taking their kid on a series of flights around the world. 

"Wow," I said, mostly to Chad. "That's like what we want to do." For the first time in my life, I found myself admiring parents for more than just how much they could get done on so little sleep. For the first time, I was an outsider looking in. And I liked it. It gave me hope - hope for a new breed of parents who don't have to look like the walking dead; who look and feel healthy; who are both a 100% parent and a 100% human. 

I came away feeling so happy for my friends. And feeling genuinely happy for someone else is just about as good as feeling happy for yourself.

Cheap Thrills #1: Pineconing

Free stuff. Oh so good.

There's something satisfying about collecting cheap, useful things. Even better when the cheap, useful things are free. So I've decided to start a new tag called "cheap thrills" in case anyone else shares my fetish.

Today on a damp autumn day with dog in tow and multiple plastic bags, I embarked on a pineconing expedition. Nevermind that I already have a fruitful pinecone tree in my backyard. This is beside the point.

What is the point? Finding an even bigger pinecone that the last one you picked up. Returning home with a bulging bag of free stuff. Enjoying the fruits of your labour when you have a roaring fire to sit by.

And the bonus? Seeing my hyperactive 9-year-old "puppy" exhausted and happy on the couch.

Stopping Myself

These two pictures represent milestones for me. Causes for celebration, yes.
But I also am aware that they're still not handstands!

Just a quick update on handstands. I still can't do them. I can't understand it because I know that physically, I am capable of doing them. But without a spotter, something very close to fear stops me from hitting the mark. So I end up kicking sideways, falling in painful ways or just not trying very hard at all.

Being upside-down isn't the problem. I've realized that it comes down to a mental thing. And maybe that's why it's so hard: trying to think yourself out of a thinking seems rather circular in nature!

I tried again today and after a warning twist in my neck (nothing serious, but enough to make me stop), I think I'll tackle this challenge another day.

Do You Dance?

I've often heard people say, "I don't dance". After last week, I don't believe them anymore.

Chad had a jazz gig at the zoo and I went, lured partly by the chance to see him solo it on his sax and partly by the proximity of animals. What I didn't count on was the entertainment provided by the vast amounts of kids there. And trust me, I'm not normally entertained by small human beings, so this was an unusual occasion.

Every time a song would start, the kids would rush up close to the band and start swaying and prancing to the beat. Some were more coordinated than others. Some were even executing some promising ballet moves. And then some others were just bobbing in their diapers, having not mastered the art of walking yet.

I was hard-pressed to find a single kid who wasn't physically responding to the music. And it told me something. People are born to dance. Whether it looks refined and elegant or like a body being defibrillated is beside the issue. Music wasn't meant to be only experienced through your ears. It was meant to be a physical experience as well.

Having said this, I am disappointed to say that I did not join the sea of bobbing juveniles. I wish I could have. But something wouldn't let me make a fool of myself. And because of that, I'm not entirely unsympathetic to those who say, "I don't dance". But I won't go so far as to say that I don't dance. Because I definitely do. I dance in the shower. I dance in my living room. While doing housework or cooking or even in the snatches of time when I'm in public but no one's watching, I dance.

One day, I hope to have the courage to dance in plain sight. But until then, I hope this drawing captures all my fascination with the beauty of someone who can fling themselves into a beat without a second thought.

Handstands, Part 2

What doesn't kill you will make you stronger. That's the clichéd saying, isn't it? But today, I'm feeling that mastering a handstand by myself will be something that I look back on for encouragement...that is if I don't injure myself first.

Yesterday, I tried doing a handstand with a wall for support. The result was that with only three directions to fall, I fell sideways, which was more uncomfortable than just free-falling.

Today (after breakfast, no less), I employed Chad to spot me. So three handstands later, here's the rundown:

Figure A:

Launch sequence activated after much swallowing and wiping of sweaty palms.

Figure B:

Arms straight: √

Looking at wall, not at ground: √

Hips thrust: √

Legs straight: √

Core stomach muscles engaged: X

= still unable to support myself

I'd like to think that the massive amount of hair I have is contributing to being unbalanced. But that'd probably be a cop-out. It feels like riding a bike all over again. But the good news is that I did eventually learn to ride a bike. Hopefully this is going in the same direction.

Handstands

I can't do them. The last time I remembered trying to do handstand was in elementary school during gym class. I watched as one of my classmates went up successfully into a handstand and then came crashing down, landing her with a broken arm and a trip to the hospital. That was over twenty years ago and I have never had the urge to try doing a handstand since then.

I still didn't have any such urge when I visited a community circus this week for the first time. And my enthusiasm for trying some acrobatics was very nearly quashed when I realized how many moves involved being upside-down.

So when the lady who was coaching us told me to do a handstand, flip over, and then land with my back on her upturned feet, I genuinely felt scared. There are not many things I will walk away from, but I nearly expanded my meager list that day.

"I believe that you can do it," said the coach. I realized that while I believed she was being genuine, it was still not enough to convince me to do it. I needed to believe that I could do it. I also realized two more things:

Practicing some other acrobatics at home. What a workout!

1. I needed to imagine how to do it successfully rather than think about how to do it unsuccessfully.
2. If I walked away, I would not be able to let it go.

So I did it. Blanked out my mind, focused only on the successful outcome, and did it. And as I landed neatly on her feet unscathed, I nearly cried from relief and elation.

33 years old and I can do handstands.

Next step: figure out how to stay in a handstand!

Discovering New Life

Cleaning out my workspace today, I found these:

After some basic calculations, based on the age of the other sketches and doodles that were in the vicinity, I realized that I must have done these about two years ago. It was an odd sensation. Odd, because I had no recollection of ever doing them at all. I don't really recall what I was thinking or what the thought was behind these. But yet, there they were, among many other doodles that I could explain the origin of quite happily. The experience (I imagine) was not so different from doing an archaeological dig and coming up with the fossil of an entirely new species.

So, in keeping with the analogy, I have put on my biologist's hat and have given these poor unrecognized creatures a history:

Blind Date

My original thought for this doodle was along the lines of Red Riding Hood. But when the dragon character was done, I looked at him and found that, in spite of the toothy leer and eating utensils in his pocket, I felt rather sorry for him.

His coat might be pinstriped, but the poor creature either cannot afford a pair of pants or doesn't have friends who can tell him that going on a blind date commando-style is just not in. And while he's leaning rather intensely into his date, it may be a result of near-sightedness rather than a lack of respect for personal space. All in all, a pitiful creature and, I felt, much deserving of a blog post at the very least.

Eponine

"Come! Here he is!"

He raised his eyes, and recognized that wretched child who had come to him one morning, the elder of the Thenardier daughters, Eponine; he knew her name now. Strange to say, she had grown poorer and prettier, two steps which it had not seemed within her power to take. She had accomplished a double progress, towards the light and towards distress. She was barefooted and in rags, as on the day when she had so resolutely entered his chamber, only her rags were two months older now, the holes were larger, the tatters more sordid. It was the same harsh voice, the same brow dimmed and wrinkled with tan, the same free, wild, and vacillating glance. She had besides, more than formerly, in her face that indescribably terrified and lamentable something which sojourn in a prison adds to wretchedness.

She had bits of straw and hay in her hair, not like Ophelia through having gone mad from the contagion of Hamlet's madness, but because she had slept in the loft of some stable.

And in spite of all, she was beautiful. What a star art thou, O youth!

(Les Misérables - Victor Hugo)

The Mushy Peas Artist

For someone who enjoys being creative, I find art rather baffling. So when I do find a painting that captivates me, I usually make a point to add them to my small list of favourites.

Cor Blok has now become one of these. He is probably best known (although being "best known" does not necessarily mean that you are well known at all) as the artist who painted over 100 pictures of The Lord of the Rings and when he showed a small collection of them to Tolkien, the author said they were attractive, but "bad as illustrations". Others have described Blok's work as "childish", in both positive and negative ways.

If you've come this far, you're probably curious now. Here's an example of Blok's work:

The Cow Jumped Over the Moon - Cor Blok

I once watched one of those addictive TV reality series' in which ordinary men and women are made to cook extraordinary dishes in order to win some form of a prize. One of the contestants decided that she was going to serve up mushy peas. That's right: peas that have been rendered soft and unattractive. The judges were perplexed, taken aback...and impressed. The audacity of it! Serving mushy peas as a delicacy! In the end, the contestant was commended on grounds that the peas were actually quite good, and she went on to the next level.

When I saw Blok's work, I immediately thought of the mushy pea incident. For here was the same brand of audaciousness. For all those who haven't been able to recognize what this picture is supposed to depict, it's the scene at The Prancing Pony in which Frodo dons the ring for the first time and disappears. Now can you see it?

It's childish, almost smacking of comic-material, but the characters, for all their simplicity, are recognizable. There's Strider in the black, looking mysterious. And Frodo in the centre in the midst of disappearing. And the patrons of The Prancing Pony in various stages of shock as they behold the scene. Only much later do you realize that they're not even sitting in chairs. Cor Blok apparently deemed chairs unnecessary to the scene and had the patrons sitting in mid-air instead. The audacity!

Yet, I couldn't help but enjoy it. Some part of me was laughing when I saw it. I didn't care that the scene was incomplete, or that the painting was "childish". I understood it! And to me, that's what art is: this ability to evoke a sense of kinship, whether through humour or sadness, between the artist and the viewer. This is something I continue to aspire to with my own creations and will continue to use that as a measure of success in this strange world of art.

You can view more of Cor Blok's work here: www.corblok.com

The Elephant Lugger

The Elephant Lugger is found in many parts of the world. He may not always be found with a wagon. Sometimes it is a backpack. Other times it may be a two-tonne truck. Whatever it is, he is always pulling it and he will tell you that it is very heavy. This is probably because of the elephant that is sitting inside it.

"Why, if I had an elephant, I would ride it," you might say.

But no, this has never occurred to the Elephant Lugger. It is unthinkable. He will tell you that the elephant has a mind of its own and cannot be trained. In fact, to the Elephant Lugger, having an elephant is rather unfortunate. It is not a creature that is delightful, like an otter or a platypus. This kind of elephant cannot even have its tusks harvested for the precious ivory (something I would not recommend since a tusk without an elephant means that there is a dead one lying somewhere around).

If you meet an Elephant Lugger, you must always be careful not to insult his elephant. You may think this strange since he seems to detest it so much in the first place. And you would be right. But the relationship between a Lugger and his elephant is much like the relationship between siblings. For whether you deem this relationship parasitic or symbiotic, between the Lugger and the elephant there is both loathing and love.

Boy in Wolf's Clothing

My friends gave me an unusual desk calendar for my birthday. Each day presents an incomplete picture and a directive to make it complete. It was perfect for me: a few short minutes each day spent doodling, doing what I really should be doing more of.

On January 27th, I was presented with this:

For some reason, I was stuck. I think it was a simple reason of knowing that the pre-existing lines were going to interfere with my doodle. Maybe it was more complicated than that. I left it for the moment.

Today, I decided to give myself a bit more freedom and scanned it into my computer to be completed digitally. As I was drawing, I was constantly reminded of the teens whose paths I frequently cross. I don't know if it's the area, the culture or simply the age that we're in, but so many of them are hurting. But they don't want you to see it. So they throw you off with (what they think is) witty sarcasm and a don't-care attitude. Of course, we've always had these kinds of kids. But I'm struck by how a "normal" healthy kid is now the minority.

So here is my dangerous wolf dedicated to all those teens I see so often:

"The way you spend your life is the way you spend your days."

I saw this quote recently and it resonated with thoughts that had been nagging at me since the start of 2013. I have an increasing urge to do something significant - something that will create a positive footprint that will outlast me. Yet I think that one thing that keeps me from doing this one significant thing is that I'm not a "one thing" kind of person. I am so fascinated by life, by why things are and how things came to be; I am a specialist in a generalist sort of way, the voluntary eternal student. How then to focus on just one thing when everything seems so special?

Can anyone relate?

Having said that, there are a few things that I suspect will remain at the forefront of my personality throughout my days. One of these is my art. There have been so many lost doodlings created in snatches of time; so many pictures given to others without a second thought that I might want to see them again. And I think that in a way, my art summarizes much of what is going on personally at the time, whether it's an emotional high, or whether I've just discovered the history of pale ale. I hope to capture most of that here and hope that, for all the other eternal, expressive and creative students of life out there, that as you read this, you'll be inspired to keep savouring this world we live in.