yes, there is a reason you cannot see his face. i was in the middle of a project involving a very long strand of twinkle lights. atlas was very unsure about it so i was trying to make him smile. it did not work.

which has nothing to do with anything, only i felt like sharing it.

apparently i am on an iphone kick. i took my iphone and atlas on an errand to the light bulb store on mississippi ave and then we wandered around the neighborhood afterward. does that second photo not make you think of the book the secret garden? i thought so.

remember when i shared my opinions about diet coke and pickles? well, here's the next topic that needs to be discussed. it is pumpkin and raisins, people; not pumpkin and chocolate chips.

everywhere i go, every autumn, there are pumpkin-y things that include chocolate. i do not understand this combination. it's too sweet and too dry (the dry part probably makes no sense to anyone but me but i can't think of a better way to explain it).

pumpkin and raisins, on the other hand, are a perfect combination. it is not too sweet and the raisins make the dough a little juicy. my most favorite cookies in the world are pumpkin raisin cookies. i can eat an entire batch in one sitting. sometimes i do. (i suppose that's obvious, or else i wouldn't know that i could.)

i used to discuss this with the great harvest bread store. every year, they made a pumpkin bread with chocolate chips. every year, i would explain to them that it needed to include raisins, not chocolate chips. alas, they never quite agreed. sometimes they agreed that raisins would be good, but they said that people really seemed to like the chocolate.

i find this so strange. why would you eat pumpkin and chocolate when you could eat pumpkin and raisins? pumpkin and raisins for everyone, i say!

i was trying to take a very specific photo for my trust project this week. sadly, the wind and the leaves and my camera did not align properly, thus there is no trust photo at all. but i was outdoors and it was not raining and fall was in the air, so i was still a happy happy girl.

the lovely thing about having a place that i visit regularly is that i get to watch how it changes with each season. i know we can see this in our own neighborhood, but somehow the changes seem more visible to me when they occur in a place that i see often, but not daily.

do you have a place like this?

i celebrate thanksgiving in my own way.

i celebrate the idea of thanks giving year round. i celebrate the day with three of my favorite things: atlas, a hike, and cooking. the ritual started when i worked too much and didn't want to leave atlas alone on thanksgiving day. now, i just think it's a lovely way to spend the day. this year, there will be no hike and i am making nachos instead of cooking; the pup and i both need to rest.

i was thinking about thanks giving when i found this quote. it perfectly sums up how i feel about the idea of trying to express my gratitude in one succinct blog post, or in one day, or at all.

"Gratitude is one of the least articulate of the emotions, especially when it is deep." - Felix Frankfurter

yes. that. exactly.

may your day be full of peace, love, and laughter.

i have decided that the definition for woebegone needs to include a picture of atlas wearing a t-shirt. doesn't he look miserable? i hated to do it, but he had a wound that needed to heal and would not stop licking it, and i finally got tired of shouting no at him.

if i ever wonder why i cannot get my dream bedding, i just need to look at this picture of muddy paw prints on the bed. (i feel like this photo does not even do the mud justice.) why is it that a) my brilliant rainy day ideas always involve a very wet and muddy dog and b) the same wet and muddy dog likes to dry himself off on my bed? i suspect that pre-atlas-me would think current-me has lost her sanity because current-me just looks at the paw prints and smiles because she is so happy that she has an atlas pup to track mud on the bed.

the trees on my side of the street have leaves that turn orange in the fall. the trees on the other side of the street have leaves that turn red.

the leaves were slow to turn color this year. when i left on friday for the painting retreat, there was only a hint of color in amongst the green. i came home on tuesday night and when i left to pick up atlas the next day, it felt like the trees had exploded with orange and red.

it was magnificent.

of course, a strong wind and rain blew in that night, ushering in the beginning of the end.

but it was still magnificent.

my intention for the month of december (i realize it's not december, i started early) is to take really really really good care of myself.

(actually, this was supposed to be my intention for the quarter – the quality i am working with is wholeness. better late than never, right?)

the trouble with this particular intention is that i have a hard time taking good care of myself, let alone really really really good care of myself. i am better at it than i used to be, but it's still an ongoing practice.

the other day, in a fit of inspiration, it occurred to me that this might be more fun if i pretended that i was my very own butler. named jeeves, of course. have you read the book wake up, sir by jonathan ames? jeeves is the main character's butler and my inspiration.

i tell you, having a butler is the best thing ever. i wish i had hired one years ago. he is so kind and caring and thoughtful.

last night, i was so much in flow that i forgot to eat dinner and worked at my computer for so long that my back ached and ached. i really needed jeeves to remind me to eat and to get up every so often, but apparently i gave him the evening off.

a very sad and dejected me-this-morning: "jeeves???"

jeeves: "i'm sorry to hear that you had a rough evening, sir. maybe a round of yoga would set you right? i'll put a fleece blanket nearby in case the idea appeals to you.

also, i noticed that you took an aleve this morning; might i suggest that you rest today? i will wash the dishes later and put another load of laundry going, but we can save the other things until tomorrow. if you rest this morning, maybe you will feel like going for a hike later. it is such a lovely day and you always feel better when you're outdoors.

by the way, you are out of aleve, so you are going to want to visit new seasons later and buy aleve and toilet paper. you know you will think about both of them until they're purchased. i'd go for you, but i know how much you enjoy grocery shopping. maybe you can also buy yourself some more stuffing and have it for dinner."

me: "that does sound nice. thank you, jeeves!"

jeeves: "you're very welcome, sir."

(isn't he kind and caring and thoughtful? he always has the best suggestions.)

(and yes, jeeves refers to me as sir. i refuse to be called ma'am, and jeeves refuses to call me sweetie. sir was a good compromise.)

{my attempt to capture 52 photos that represent trust – my word for 2011}.

i think my year of trust has ended. really, it's been done for a while now.

not that the year has ended, or that i don't care about trust anymore, or that i am always full of trust, or that i am ending my photo project early.

it's not even that things have significantly changed in my external world since the beginning of the year.

it's more that something has shifted in me.

there is a sense of trust in me that wasn't there before. there are moments when i lose it, of course, but i always circle back again.

it feels really good.

i think portland is having the most magnificent display of autumn colors since i moved here in 2006. i almost cannot stand the gloriousness of it. seriously. there has been a great deal of squealing and clapping with glee. (i often think that i should not be allowed to drive in the fall. i am horribly distracted.)

apparently atlas spent this visit to the doggy ranch trying valiantly to catch bella, a little weimaraner who can outrun every dog there. he never caught her, but he certainly gave it his all, as evidenced by his trimmer waist and more visibly muscular torso.

the tiny leaves in the last photo looked like stars on the sidewalk.

since now is the time of year when so many of us need to pause (to rest and recharge and renew) more than ever, and it is also the time of year when it is the hardest to find the time and/or money to do so, i am offering a special on that service for the remainder of the year. if it speaks to you and the time is right, do sign up. there are a couple of spots available in november and a few more available in december.

i usually drink a great many eggnog lattes this time of year but i don't love coffee. yesterday, i had a brilliant plan. i always have a box of chai tea latte on hand and you add milk to it, so i bought eggnog and i am going to make eggnog chai lattes! i am anticipating the goodness of the eggnog without the coffee taste. fingers crossed that it actually is tasty.

do you want a good salad idea? roast cauliflower with olive oil, sea salt, and curry powder. toss salad greens, thinly sliced pear, red onion, and walnuts into a bowl, then add the roasted cauliflower (warm or cold, both are good). for a dressing, i like to drizzle it with olive oil and add a pinch of sea salt. it is delicious – and perfect for this season.

speaking of cauliflower, in my personal experience, one head of cauliflower equals one serving of cauliflower, especially if it's roasted. i always wonder what people do who are cooking for more than one person.

i'd love to hear what's going on in your world today.

this is not the weimaraner post i was going to write today. i am sitting at the airport – missing a friend and feeling raw and sleepy – so instead you get me, showing up, just as i am in this moment.

i am on my way home from an intuitive painting retreat with chris zydel, something i have wanted to do for a couple of years now. i don't really know what i expected but it was intense and supportive and healing and, i suspect, transformative, in ways that i cannot see just yet.

a couple of weeks ago, i realized that i don't have trouble with the hard and the dark – it feels comfortable and familiar – but i have a great deal of trouble with the light and the bright and the good. not yours – i can see that and celebrate it – but mine.

at the same time, i am getting a sense of where i am heading. not in this moment, maybe not for years, but it feels big. it feels big enough that it scares me. my sense is also that in order to get there, i am going to have to dance with the light.

while working on one particular painting, the idea that had the most energy in one moment was to add glitter. i thought i would just be adding glitter to one small section but it turned out that i had to cover the entire painting with glitter. as i painted on the glitter, i could not stop crying. i kept hearing voices saying that it was too colorful, too sparkly, too much, that no one would like it.

when the painting was completely covered in glitter, the idea that had the most energy was to add large sparkles on top of the glitter. as i painted on the sparkles, i cried even harder. i thought the emotion behind the tears might be fear but when i felt into it, i felt this huge sense of loss. it felt like i had lost something infinitely precious and i didn't know how to get it back. the loss felt very old and very deep.

so that's where i am in this moment. i am reconnecting with the parts of me that knew how to be big and bold and expressive. the parts of me that thought it was natural to be rich and vibrant and colorful. the parts of me that lived and loved with playful abandon. the parts of me that believed i was sparkling and luminescent and powerful.

it feels raw and messy and painful. it also feels very real. and somehow, i feel hopeful.

i feel very vulnerable sharing this, but i offer it up, knowing that i am not the only one who struggles with recognizing and owning and expressing the bright and the light and the good. may we all move closer toward seeing our own beauty and radiance.

p.s. intuitive painting is about the process, not the painting, so no comments on the paintings-in-progress, please. though in truth, two of the photos are of my paint palette.