The forest for the trees

Acacia in Flower (or, Blossoming Acacia Branches)
Vincent van Gogh
1890

Lately I have struggled to see the forest for the trees, and for a gloominess of my own creation blanketing the light. I am working to re-discover what a pleasure it is to wake up at dawn, to move my body and tend to my home. When I bother to take a moment, stop and reconnect with what actually makes me happy instead of burying my mind in media and ugly habits, confusion turns to clarity and I feel like I can actually breathe.

Meditation and yoga is helping, and so is reworking my diet, writing and reading more books – but climbing out of my own ass has truly been the most effective thing.

 

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Slices o’ Sausage

Long story short, my sister-in-law made a (very tame, for the record) dick joke, and for whatever reason it reminded me of this helpful hint:

If you want to slice your sausage before cooking it, put it in the freezer. Any sausage worth its salt has enough fat that the link won’t entirely freeze, even when stored for weeks, which means you can slice evenly without much effort at all. If your freezer is a boss, or you’re in a rush, just stick them in there for 15-20 minutes and you’re good to go.

Having a very sharp knife is the only real way to slice raw sausage without everything squishing out the sides. If you’re like me, with knives that are sharp enough, this is the way to go.

PS: Slicing sausage raw adds a great texture to the meat thanks to more surface area to sear, which translates well to dishes like spaghetti since the sear can withstand the sauce. Onions and peppers cooked together with a nice spicy Italian sausage, and just a little bit of crunch to the edges, some roasted tomatoes and diced garlic thrown in – that is heaven.

Happy sautéeing.

emona

I Needed Color

Jim Carrey is painting!

I love being alive and the art is the evidence of that

Not that I read these kinds of things on purpose, but from what I hear the guy’s had a pretty rough run of life lately. I have been a hardcore Carrey fan since childhood, and man, what a delight to see him paint like this. Watching him channel his pain, hearing him work through the dark to produce this much beauty, is just outstanding.

This video made me a very special kind of happy.

Jim Carrey: I Needed Color from SGG on Vimeo.

emona

I Love N’Sync

Long story short, I found myself watching some N’Sync videos a few weeks ago. Couple reasons (besides The Hot One) that I love N’Sync:

They are everything that was cool about 15 years ago. This video, for example, has Jamiroquai, Michael (feat Janet) Jackson and just a dash of old school Pinnoco. One word: glorious. Plus, Hot One sings!

Not enough toys for you?! This one is basically Toy Story: The Synchronized Gyration with a little Barbie Girl mixed in for fabulous measure.

Gone is so sad. So sad. But the lyrics really are beautiful, and pairing it with a video full of meaningful stares and wall slides makes it a timeless and truly powerful song. It rivals Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely for best angsty cry-until-you-die song by a 1990’s-era boy band.

Finally, this video is a delight for all senses. Break dancing! Chokers! Shirt on top of a shirt under another shirt!  Not to mention the seizure-inducing dance club set and wicked graphics.  Also, Hot One sings some more. Please don’t miss the last 30 seconds! Do it for JT.

Thank you for your time.

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Doing It Wrong: Beach Towels Edition

Spock Beach Towel – GeekAlerts

Beach Towels: They’re more complicated than you think! Gizmodo breaks down why you suck at sitting on the beach with a helpful guide to this unique towel’s many handy features.

Unfortunately, the jury’s still out on how a beach towel matches up against your everyday variety when it comes to interstellar hitchhiking.

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Shoulders down, heart open to the sky

Not gonna lie: I haven’t been to yoga in almost exactly a month.

That is, I haven’t made it to an actual class, but yoga’s been on my mind every Monday, Wednesday and Sunday since the first time I tried it. What to eat before, what to eat after, class sizees, warming up, water-or-no-water? Is it normal to get so sweaty? Lots to think about. In fact, up until a half hour before class tonight, I was still working on my hairdo. Then, I fretted about what to wear. I actually called my husband at work to ask if I had to wear a bra at yoga. Yes, I did that. Over-thinking everything will be the end of me.

(His answer was, basically, no. Just make sure nobody can scope out the goods, “when you’re in the downward doggy style pose, or whatever.” I also Googled it. No bra, tonight or any other night. Wee!)

I came home from work tired, my upper back aching with stress, and all I wanted to do was sit down and fall asleep. But I’ve been coming home, sitting down and going to sleep every day for almost a month now and I still feel like crap. Instead, I grabbed an orange and went to class.  Good move on my part.

This class was more intense, with a lot more fluid movements and far too many high lunges for my shaky, inexperienced thighs. I almost fell over twice, sweated my ass off, stubbed my toe and accidentally crammed my face into my discarded sandles while executing a rather impressive [the pose where you start in plank, lower down with your arms and push your chest up?] with my eyes closed – but I did every single pose, from start to stop, and only modified once! (Fuck you, side plank!!)

This evening, I learned to love the Tiger:

YOGA CATS!

Good gravy, do I love the Tiger pose. Shoulders down, heart open to the sky.

After a wonderfully calm  savasana, I stood up and felt … high. I’m talking bong rip high. It was intense. Good, but different than last time. Then, I felt a rush of joy and energy, but today was more altering, and way outside my normal range of feeling. It was so intense that I felt no fear or shame in walking up to the instructor and asking for some clarification. Highly unusual for me, especially when I’m sweaty, frizzy and smelling of communal yoga mat.

We walked out together, chatting and laughing – it felt so wild and freeing to be there with her, giggling, body so wobbly I could barely navigate a straight line. I can’t explain it, but I want it again. I swear, I could feel my body sing.

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