Home is Where the Heart Is, and Family are Those We Care About.

I am mindful tonight of current events.  Between bombs on restaurants and attacks on field hospitals, my heart is broken and seething.  Mixed in with my grief, I also must acknowledge that I have found another home.  It is not a cabin in the woods, or an apartment with heat and hot water.  This one, like so many, is not a physical location, but an idea.  It’s home and it's family.  I am so stricken with the hate and the violence of a handful of people who wish to change their world by ending someone else’s. 

Despite their best efforts though, I can see a bright and vibrant love and compassion.  In response to events like the raid of La Taverna du Liban and the attack on a Red Cross infirmary in Euromaidan, a community united.  True, there are local reactions, but internationally the ex-pat community is also coming together to find their own, to mourn as one, and to support each other. 

As ex-pats past and present we may, at times, be outsiders in the towns where we were born, and we certainly have conflicting loyalties, opinions and traditions, but together we are a family.  Even if you are a cousin that I haven’t met yet, I will likely buy you dinner, share a laugh, and cry with you if that’s what you need. 

So as my heart is once again ripped asunder, I say to you, those who kidnap aide workers, shoot civilians, and bomb school children:  Shame on you.  Those are my siblings, my nieces, nephews, dayzas, babbas and ejes.  We will continue to love each other despite your best efforts.

Remont!

For anyone who has ever lived, visited, or worked in a country where Russian is prevalent you are undoubtedly familiar with the word "remont" ... or Ремонт or renovation/repair.  There are times when it feels like it is everywhere.  I'm certain the inside jokes attached to that word are endless.  Anyway, as advertisers here keep trying to tell me:  New Year, it's time for a New You!  Well, I'm actually pretty happy with the current me ... is that relevant? 

Point is, there is something I have been meaning to do for a while.  It's time to shed the old elephant skin (blog background, not actual epidermis) and make a new attempt at both aesthetics on this site as well as readability.  Just because it's pretty doesn't mean it can't be practical too. 

So tell me what you think.  I may periodically update the background until I figure out something particularly suitable.  Heck, I may even abandon google's graphics all together and venture out into my own photo shoot ... that sounds like server space though.  We'll see.

In the mean time, I'm going to do something else I've never done before.  I'm going to redirect you to another writer's work.  I don't usually do this in part because I don't read many blogs and in part because I don't really know the etiquette behind this.  You should understand this to mean that I've also not found anything topically relevant that I felt was truly worthy of connecting it to my small but treasured blogovel.  This post is different.  I've been asked many, many, many times how I can travel alone.  Isn't it lonely?  It must be soooooo difficult.  The answer:  Yes.  It is.  But that doesn't make it not worth doing, and it doesn't make it more difficult than travelling with someone else. 

I've mentioned here before how periodically I'll hit a wall.  I'll lock myself in a room and just decide not to go out for the day because after months of newness sometimes my brain just says "ENOUGH!" and needs a day to underwhelm.  I still choose that over not.  I choose to go.

Not to mention traveling with others is hard.  All those coping mechanisms I've nurtured would suddenly be worthless.  I would have to include someone else, which isn't really built into my mechanisms and those mechanisms don't really address any of the new phenomena I would need to cope with if there was an other, other.  Oy!

So much ado, all about nothing.  The piece that I'm talking about is called "I Travel to Feel Lonely ... On Purpose"  The use of ellipses alone almost won me over.  If you haven't yet noticed, I'm a fan.  While I don’t share some of her feelings of coupling envy or agree that solo travel is inevitably a byproduct of being single, I do think her understanding of how solo travel works is spot on.  At least for me.  One of the best solo vacations I took was a lay-over in London that lasted about 24 hours and consisted of going for a run in the rain, people watching, grabbing food at the only open café and taking pictures of things that created interesting patterns and textures.  It was amazing.  It wasn't what tourists are "supposed to do", but that's sort of the beauty of solo travel.

So please, read what Ms. Anna Davies has to say : 
http://www.refinery29.com/2014/01/60099/traveling-alone

and let me know what you think ...

 

The Life in Death - A Room with a View

Originally, I was considering writing this as a four part series:  a trilogy of images and a post of perspectives and human conceptualization of demise.  It has recently come to my attention, however, that death - being universal - comes up quite often while I'm traveling.  This in turn means that I tend to write a lot about it.  So this four part series has been reduced to a trilogy of images.  Giving death its due, but no more.

 

So on our final journey through this resting place, I will focus on the land and scenery.  Being a high commodity in most urban/suburban localities, it seems noteworthy that so much prime real estate is devoted to those who cannot see and will be buried under the ground.  Or is it that we cannot admit the scenery isn't for their benefit at all.

 

Take a walk with me.  Will you?

 

 

Granted, these pictures were taken during the summer months, but even in winter the trees stand guard on meandering pathways.

 

 

 Flowerbeds meticulously tended, and in many cases species labeled for the edification of all. 

 

 

 These particular trees, meticulously chosen flourish with space, light, and strength like sentries along the path. 

 



 

The layout can leave you forgetting where you are, but just through the trees lies the true purpose of this space.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not all outcrops of life are so meticulously planned though.  Here and there life erupts spontaneously.  A version of survival of the fittest:  the most beautiful or least in the way are allowed to stay and mingle with designed life. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Designed life isn't always so bad.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 and the end result is a room with a spectacular view.

 

The Life in Death - The Human Touch

First of all, I apologize if it seems like I am yelling in this post.  In order for the words to stand out from the photography, the print needs to be gargantuan as the difference between "normal" and "large" in this blog hosting device (see I'm so technical) is more than a little noticeable.  Moving on, I hope you enjoy my observations on human demarcation of death.

Whether it is to honor those who have died, to find closure for the loss we have suffered, or for different motivations entirely - cemeteries are near to bursting with statuary.  Some religious, some not.  No matter the motive, they all have one common trait.  They lend a personality to the space in which they exist.  It can be culturally defined as sections of the cemetery are clearly one ethnicity or another.  Others are motivated by the specific individual for which the items are placed.  All in all, there is a humanity in wanting to leave a remembrance or a mark, and it was omnipresent in these particular grounds.

Asserting A Sense Of Control:

 

Death is neither neat nor orderly, but at times we try to insist that it conform.

 

 

Proving our individualism to stand out from the rows of sameness

 

 

The entryway looks as though it could be a home.  Just someone's front yard.  Knock if you care to visit for a while. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Culture Defines Itself:

 

 The area is full of Armenian grocery stores and restaurants.  It is fitting that the cemeteries should reflect some of the same linguistic duplicity.  It did not stop there.

 

 

 

 

 

 Religious symbols were both hidden and ostentatious.  Crosses of many flavors were the most prevalent.

 

 

 In case you were wondering, there aren't any flowers growing on the tops of the grave stones.  Those are all carved into the stone.  So impressive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Artisan's Influence:

 

 It is an understatement to say that the craftsmanship is impressive and meticulous.

 The level of detail carved into some of these stones was amazing, especially considering time and weather had already begun to erode many of them.

 

 Some pieces were more personal than others.

Such a powerful representation of grief. 

 

At first this installation seemed out of place.  It is modern, abstract, and simply put it isn't made of stone as one might expect from this cemetery. Upon closer observation, however, etched around the base of the statue are many names with dates of birth and death.  It is a microcosm of the rest of the cemetery and it really is quite beautiful.  There is a peacefulness and solemnity to it that I find quite appealing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time Collects Its Due:

  

I couldn't be sure but the coloring in the stone almost appears as though it's part of the weathering.  It's possible that it was inherently there, but it wears well with the erosion of the design.

 Ruth and Edgar have grown apart over the years.

 

 

Yet some couples stay together even as they fade through time.

 

 

This one just baffles me.  I like it, but I don't understand it.  May a seal watch over you to the end of time.

 

 

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 



We Interrupt This Program for a Public Service Announcement

I pride myself on being someone who knows where her food comes from.  True, I may not know what my veal's name used to be, but I at least understand that it is baby cow.  I know my tapenade is mashed up olives, and recognize tahini as a product of a street named Sesame.  So it was with great shock and a little bit of shame today that I realized, when I looked at my dinner, I had NO idea what it looked like before it came to the grocery store and was prepared for my plate.  In order to prevent this from happening to you, I present to you, scallops.

Because this:

Is also this:

Image Courtesy of:  http://www.thescallopshack.com/scalloping.php

and now you know!

 

 

The Life in Death - Creature Comforts

Speaking of wandering ... one day I went to a cemetery. 

My intent was to talk about how we view death.  Our perspective isn't inherent in human existence in the way that laughter and human affection from a parent to a child can be.  It is taught.  It is learned.  I went to the cemetery both for a little inspiration and for some imagery - however tangential - to liven what can be a very somber topic.  What occurred instead was I got distracted. 

If you prefer we can call it further inspiration, but the reality is, instead of writing one post on the topic I set out to write, I have the material for at least 4 posts ... maybe one of them will resemble the originally intended posting.  This, however, isn't that post.

This post is about life.  I spent the middle of the day, maybe four hours total roaming around a cemetery.  It's a beautiful piece of land, overlooking a fantastic skyline, and as luck would have it home to many a woodland creature.  It struck me.  A place which is intended to be reflective and a home for those who have passed out of this life, a center for death and for marking of the ends of human interaction .... actually is quite alive if you're willing to notice.  So here it is, the life I found in a place of death:

The start to a day of discoveries

Life upon Life

Musical discoveries were added to the mix

Not a solitary incident

Looking for a seed snack

Regal posts




with the greatest of detail



A feast with fuzzy friends

The Grand Finale

 

Preview to a Trilogy ... Makes this a Quadrilogy?

There has been a marked absence in my writing lately.  On the one hand, this simply means that I need to stop fooling myself.  I will continue to write and update this site as often as seems reasonable, however, any sort of schedule I may once have set for myself is so far out window that I no longer even hold the illusion of maintaining it.  To further insult this wayward schedule, this is not even really a post.  Sure, technically it is posted, however the reality is - this is advertising and forewarning. 

There is a three part - potentially a four part - series about to show up on this blog.  The good news is that at least the first half will be heavy on visuals and perspective, although relatively light on words.  The bad news for some, is that the topic of this series is death.  How we mark it, the relationship we, as cultures and societies, deal with imminent passing, and the memories of those we love, our superstitions and how those influence our actions and our speech.  That said, if you haven't already tuned out.  There are those who belong to cultures which do not wish to engage in this conversation or who may not be comfortable viewing places of burial.  Death, at times, surprises us with its arrival and may make it less comfortable to keep company with such shadows.  I will try to remember to announce the publishing of non-death related posts with as much zeal as I warn of the presence of death within this series.  To my family and friends - I will take no offense if you choose not to partake.  To everyone else - I will also not be offended, but will be utterly unaware of your avoidance.  Enjoy your anonymity. 

For everyone else:  Stay tuned.  My next planned posting here share the life I found in death ... or something similarly titled.

Be well.