THIS PAST Wednesday afternoon, while walking in LA (let it not be said that nobody does it), I saw a house that I would love to own, in the area just north of Burbank and just east of White Oak. Here it is:
(That’s my future self avatar washing my future car too, for good measure.)
So right on time for the New Year, there was one of my 2018 intentions/visualizations, which I choose to believe I can transform one day into manifestations… or as I used to say, there’s a dream that I want to come true.
And hey, it’s a Super Moon tonight, so it’s a good time to set your intentions, right? Or wait, it’s a good time to get your hair cut? Or am I just supposed to wish upon a lucky star? I forget.
“When you wish upon a staaaaaaaar…. Makes no difference who you aaaaaaaare. When you wish upon a star, your dreeeeeams come truuuuuuuue…” Continue reading
Namaste. My highest self greets your highest self.
Photo credit: Kalyan Kanuri
A few weeks ago, as I settled into my yoga class taught by a substitute, a soft-spoken tattooed transgendered person named Raven, I had to admit I was having one of those “How Totally Vancouver” moments. It was a great class. My shoulders went places I never knew they could (and probably shouldn’t), and I left feeling very “grounded,” as I do every time I walk off the mat.
Though technically I think my first yoga classes were at my gym in LA in the early 1990’s, I started going to yoga classes in earnest in the late 90’s with my friend Norene, when we were both working for a social venture start up in San Francisco called Education Partners. Our office was in the KQED building in a funny part of the city, wedged between Potrero Hill and the Mission, but with no real neighborhood identity of its own (at least at the time). Norene was going once or twice a week to a yoga class just down the block and I decided to give it a try too. Continue reading
With all of the coverage over the last week leading up to yesterday’s 10-year anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States, the world probably doesn’t need one more blog about the impact of this shattering event on one life, even one as fascinating as mine. So rather than recalling where I was when I first heard what had happened a decade ago yesterday (waking up to get ready for my second day of business school) or musing about how it felt to be an American in Canada yesterday (like a wolf without her pack), or pondering the tears that welled up as I sat in the park late in the day and read the names of those whose lives were lost… rather than any of that, I think I’ll write about my adventures last week on the high seas. Continue reading
Yesterday afternoon, I went to a Tweetup. A what? You heard me. A Tweetup… an organized gathering of people who use Twitter… that is, a ‘meet up’ of people who ‘tweet’ using Twitter.
I don’t tweet. I signed up for a Twitter account last summer, for what purpose I cannot fathom at this moment, but have never really used the thing. So I was more of an observer at this event than a participant. It was fascinating. Continue reading
Reading out loud is such a delight. I’d almost forgotten how much I love the spoken word until Thursday night, when AB and I went to Beaumont Studios to hear four women read a selection of writings on the subject of “Heaven and Hell.” Truthfully, I can’t say how much of my pleasure derived from hearing them bring the words alive from the page, and how much came from staring at their completely unclothed bodies while they did so. Continue reading
A few weeks ago, I shared with the world (or at least those who read this blog) the trials and tribulations of my relationship with couches. Today, I witnessed one of the very phenomena about which I wrote, the instant transformation into adulthood brought on by the first-time purchase of a brand new sofa. Continue reading
Last night, in the final installment of my Art of Blogging course, our instructor Linda asked us to think about the essence of our blogs. Is the focus of One Eyed Queen clear to me yet? Or is it true, as the Spanish poet Antonio Machado wrote, that there are no roads, that the way becomes manifest upon walking? Continue reading