we followed the sound of music on easter sunday to the cathedral in granada. the morning sun was streaming through the windows of the cathedral and there were two rays of light, one of them right over the head of the priest.

“And the sun and the moon sometimes argue over who will tuck me in at night. If you think I am having more fun than anyone on this planet, you are absolutely correct.”

– Hafiz

this photo was taken in the alhambra. i saw a ray of evening light in the palaces and wanted to capture it as it streamed through the window and then through a doorway. it conveys how i feel about the alhambra and the moorish style of architecture and design better than words ever could. come to think of it, so does the quote.

(a million thanks to gillian for putting this quote on her facebook page. it is my new favorite.)

i have too many vacation photos!

goodness. imagine if my camera hadn’t broken. i would be even more confused right now. i also have too many things i want to talk about, vacation related and otherwise.

i am reminded of something i read once: when you are confused about what to do, the best thing to do is to do nothing. ergo, i may be more silent than usual until i find my voice again.

these photos were taken from my sister’s balcony as an easter procession went by. i arrived in spain toward the end of semana santa (holy week) and i think i saw four easter processions in total: two in alicante and two in granada. there was something about the solemnity of the parades that was very moving.

p.s. i realized yesterday that the subscribe by rss and email options were for my previous typepad blog. oops. they should be working now, so if you signed up before yesterday evening, you might want to sign up again.

as i was resting in child's pose on my bed in a hostel in marrakesh on the morning of my 35th birthday, one of the thoughts that crossed my mind was, "i wonder why people like me?" not in a "i wonder what it is" sort of way but in a "i can't imagine why they would" sort of way.

almost immediately, it was followed by the realization that it was actually an old thought and i don't wonder that anymore. i could see that i have a good heart and that people might like me. not that i think everyone likes me, or that i think everything about me is likable, just that i am starting to see the good in me too.

it was such a lovely thing to realize as i turned 35 that i cried a little. better late than never, i guess.

i hope you can see all the good in you.

my sister is living in alicante, spain, which is where we started our adventure.

there's an area of the city called the barrio. it's below a castle (a castle high on a hill) and is full of flowers and plazas and doors and windows that are surrounded by colors and patterns.

i took this picture as we hiked down from the castle. it is a little over-exposed, but when i looked at it, it reminded me of how it felt to be there in the warm and bright sunshine.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

the spanish light.

i am back!

do you want to hear the good news first or the bad news?

let's start with the bad news: my camera stopped working less than a week into the trip.

what is the good news, you say?

the good news is that it all worked out perfectly!

i panicked for half a day and tried everything i could think of and asked the guy at the hostel if he was a camera person and he was so he tried everything he knew. nothing worked.

then, i found the bright side. (i am good at finding the bright side but i must say that this one took a while.) i decided that it would be a chance to just immerse myself in adventure and inspiration. and, i had my iphone. and, it was really nice to not have a heavy camera in my purse. (so this is how you people without cameras feel all the time, she says with a wink.)

it really did work out perfectly! the camera stopped working on our last evening in cordoba so i had already taken pictures of the mezquita. after that, we were in madrid, and in museums much of the time, so i wouldn't have taken many pictures. after that, we were in marrakesh, and i discovered that i might not have taken many pictures there either.

if this scenario had occurred to me before i left, i would have thought it a disaster, but it turns out it wasn't a disaster at all. now there's a little bit of unexpected magic.

and i do feel inspired. when i used to close my eyes – except during meditation or reiki – i saw black. now, i see colors and patterns and images and light. i am full up with inspiration and beauty.

i woke up at 6.30am yesterday and got home at midnight. in between, i spent 18 hours on planes and 8 hours in airports. needless to say, it might take me a while to go through my photos. for now, here is a glimpse of two places full of beauty and inspiration: the alhambra in granada and the mezquita in cordoba. i fell in love with them both.

there is much excitement in the elizabeth & atlas house.

early tomorrow morning, i am setting out on an adventure. my youngest sister is studying in spain this semester and i am off to spend her spring break with her.

as a bonus, i am going to turn 35 years old in morocco! with that beginning, i am pretty sure that 35 is going to be the best year ever.

i will be back on the 20th – with lots of photos, i suspect.

(speaking of photos, did you know that if you buy a spare camera battery and it sits in the box for four plus years without use, when you happen upon it and are excited to take it on an adventure with you and go to charge it in preparation for the trip, you will discover that it doesn't work? i feel rather sad that my poor battery expired without ever getting to do the thing for which it was created.)

my blog will be quiet while i am gone, so i am leaving you with three things:

a picture of atlas, who will be having a jolly time at the doggy ranch;

a rather silly story about a hippopotamus named humphrey;

Humphrey

and a sneak peek of my brand new website, which i adore and will introduce sometime after i return. it's from the lovely allie of allie creative, who is a design genius.

until i return, may your april be full of sunshine and flowers.

when i visited my sister in illinois, we spent friday evening at great america's fright fest. i really just wanted to watch margaret and travis ride the roller coasters and take little savannah on the merry-go-round, but savannah slept the entire time so i went on a couple of roller coasters instead. it turns out that i might not have the stomach for them anymore. oh well.

fright fest was pretty cool, though. there were lots of frightfully dressed people wandering around and scaring everyone. well, or making them giggle. i am more of a giggler.

speaking of frightful giggles .. a scene from a book i read popped into my mind a few days ago and i have been giggling off and on ever since. it was years ago, but i think it was from "bitter is the new black". i am probably getting the details all mixed up, but the author saw something about a lost dog on tv. she then started worrying about what would happen if her dog went missing so she spent the entire day making giant lost dog posters with special pictures. i think she even laminated them. when her boyfriend came home, he found her in the middle of taping a video segment that she could send to the news stations. she was sobbing, and he, of course, thought the dog actually was missing, until she told him that she was just preparing in advance. i remember reading it; i was doubled over, laughing so hard i was crying. it was even more funny because i kept thinking, "but that is genius! i need to make lost dog posters for atlas!" i need to find that book again and re-read it.

how are you, on this (hopefully not frightful) december day?

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.