Moving Forward

It's spring and my mind is going to thoughts of traveling, taking classes and workshops. Life is calling me to expand and move forward. I feel the need to replenish, to divorce myself from he long hours I spend sitting in front of the computer. I notice my neck and shoulders beginning to hunch forward from the act of always leaning into the screen.I want to be outside in the open air without an agenda, to dawdle in the freshness of life and fill my own cup.

The quote of Joseph Campbell's: "When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be," resonates with me. We are born anew each morning, always changing and evolving. I am in the mood to release myself from self appointed obligations -- from Face Book and this blog, (even as dear as it it to me), and numerous other tasks and pursuits which I have already been detaching from. In my eyes, this life only rolls around once. And here it is before me, sparkling, inviting and begging me for quality time.

The only way I see to find this quality time, is to prioritize. Given that so many of my tasks are tasks I love, this decision is especially daunting. Nevertheless, I must let go of some of them -- at least for a period of time.

My plan is to take a year off from this blog. If I find myself bursting to make a post, I shall. And those of you who are followers of this blog, will receive an automatic notification when I do. What I will be doing is akin to going back to school, enrolling myself in the college of life, improvising, exploring and appreciating.

I adore you all in so many ways, and am regularly astonished and enlightened by your brilliance. I am and have been honored by your presence and attention; and for this, I am infinitely grateful. I hope and trust we will connect again.

Until then, blessings to each and every one of you. Arvoir, arrivederci, wishing you sparkling and richly rewarding hours and days.


Heart, heart, heart

~   Anitra

Heart

** All photographs and text in this blog are copyrighted by Anitra Ford

Stearn's Warf After the Rain

Some places guarantee magic, one of them is Stearn's Warf. I went there chasing a rainbow, but when I arrived, it was gone. Instead, I was greeted by frigid wind that whipped my hair and spun me into a dizzying swirl. It wasn't just the wind that spun me, it was also all of the life unfolding around me. There at the end of the Warf, surrounded by ocean on three sides, I found people, birds, clouds, waves, surfers, boats, and more, much more, all moving and changing second by second. And in that, I snapped photo after photo as if in a trance.

I dove into the images head on, participating in what I've come to know as the "sport" of photography. And as it goes, when one becomes so engaged, time disappears. It wasn't until my hands became so cold that I could no longer bend my fingers, that I realized I had been out there for two hours. Even though my hands and face were frozen, my mood had not contracted -- I was exhilarated. Too cold now to continue taking pictures (or even click the shutter!), I retreated to my car. There, I rubbed my hands trying to thaw them out. When that didn't happen quickly, I reluctantly decided, it was time to go.

Gripping the wheel with lobster claws instead of hands, I started the engine and began to back out of my parking place -- that's when it appeared, a partial rainbow, glowing over the mountains. It felt like an affirmation. As if nature was bestowing a gift. "You brought yourself here, Aneet, searching for a rainbow, you immersed yourself completely in everything around you. Just to let you know your ardor didn't go unnoticed, here, accept this reward, this nod to acknowledge the needle eye of your attention."

PS: Just to let you know, if you're on a computer, you can have a nice slide show by clicking on an image (preferably the first one), and then going to the film strip that appears. By clicking on a photo on the film strip, you can stay in the frame and continue clicking to receive a full show of large images.

Two Haiku for the New Year

Practicing Newness

on this first day

of twenty-sixteen

***

Sunbirds flutter

around nyjer seed sock

a Mozart ballet

It's lovely to see you all here in this New Year.

I plan to return with a new post on March 15th.

Until then, wishing you a sparkling New Year.

Blessings, Peace and Love,

~   Anitra

Do Da Days and a Photo Montage of Recent Sights

Sunday, the most perfect morning of the week is here. No gardeners blasting leaf blowers, no carpenters pounding hammers, no tree trimmers with shrieking saws. Only a couple of crows protesting the silence, and a rogue commuter rounding a curve on A.P.S. Highway.

Why is it

in my imperfect life

I keep bumping into perfect.

The lack of space

the unstructured room

without a closet

the chores -- endless they seem -- and convoluted:

tasks folding into tasks:

unraveling tangles, loosening knots--

and then

I breathe a pocket

of electric air

and a sudden joy

washes through me

for no reason,

just the precious musk of this day

inside a world riddled with chaos

but beneath it

and around it

light --

pure light.

Dear Lovely Viewers,

Welcome! It's so good to see you again. I want to wish you all a beautiful Thanksgiving. And these days between now and the 15th of January (when I will return with my new post), including Christmas and New Years, I trust you you will find and discover light.

~    Anitra <3 nbsp="">

These Days . . .

Begin at once to live, and count each separate day as a separate life.
                                                                                               ~  Seneca

Now is what drives me. The way each morning arrives new. Opening my eyes to the clean slate of the fresh day. This is what I live for, the essence of the moment: slowing the hours down to rich substance. Not simply chores to be crossed off a list, or chasing after a clock, but lolling in the dynamic air.

                                                                 

Not letting the sounds of distant traffic from the freeway down the hill rattle me, but letting them become white noise, a resonance akin to a forest waterfall.

And fall crisping leaves; and falling in love with what is; and falling away from what was; but not forgetting the brilliance of days gone.

Remembering the lights, the craft, the art of performing. My true love, where I gave myself completely to what mattered more than anything. Acting. The art I learned in childhood from my actress mother, but discovered truly for myself at age sixteen, and vowed then to forever keep it in my life.

                                         

                                                                             

                   

Knew there was nothing better than this magic art of transformation, of becoming another. Of studying not just people and how they spoke and moved, but the psychology of life itself. What could be more worthy, I thought at age sixteen, while pacing the boards of the theater during my high school play.

And today, it still whispers -- at times even shouts.

But I'm lucky to have stepped off the track, become more seasoned, and in my September, found something deeper. An essence, a heart beyond the old delicious art. Life itself my breakfast, and the air within me and around me, alive and resonating like a smile.


                                                                               

*****

Hello, hello lovely friends. Welcome back. Happy to see you here. The season is in flux. In the midst of record breaking heat with humid hurricane drifts, we are moving toward a new wave of 2015 and cresting the hill toward the New Year. Over the next couple of months, I want to wish you all luminous days. 

I will return in two months, near Thanksgiving, on November 15th. Until then -- savor.

Sincerely,    ~     Anitra

Summer's Light

Summer's Light is Different

softer, muted
sunlight sifting through haze.
The crisp mornings of winter
with their bold hard colors
are erased
and replaced with dusty pastels.
And in the evolving light
I carry luggage
of my years
here, in California:
my frolicking childhood,
my roller-skating teens,
my mothering twenties,
my realigning thirties
and the decades
leading up to now--
a time
when I've come to love
open space
and the freedom
to cull quiet
and the beauty
of living
beyond thoughts.

This early morning
outside my French doors
a breeze
waves the tendrils
of a pepper tree
and the rising sun
wraps leaves with tinsel.
Only the birds are stirring:
tweeting, chittering, cooing . . .

It will not last.

Within the hour
as the sun oozes upward
leaves will lose their dazzle
and soon after, the day
will break open,
and I will enter fully
this summer day.

Ambling along a sidewalk
on Upper State Street--
or perhaps in the heart of town--
wearing a T-shirt and jeans
my blood simmering,
my mind extracting thoughts
of where I'm headed
and where I've just been--
I will step off the curb
into a crosswalk
on a street like Figueroa
and notice
the green light
shining like a knuckle of hard candy
and beneath it
red numbers
for pedestrians
of the seconds counting down:
8, 7, 6, 5, 4,
and in that moment,
I will forget my mental chatter
and notice my footsteps pattering on the pavement
not that different from a drumbeat
on a Miles Davis soundtrack
or the soft shush
of brush scrapes
swishing on cymbals,

and I will realize
this day
of July 11, 2015
is swathed
in silk.

Welcome back you beautiful people. Wishing you all a summer of peace, joy and treasured moments. I will make my next post on September 15th.

Hope to see you then,    ~   Aneet