do you know the feeling of happy surprise and delight and gleeful anticipation that you get when you are waiting for something you love to arrive?

i love that feeling.

the thing i don't love about that feeling is that it ends.

secretly, i have been working on a way to keep that feeling going all year. and now it's ready.

i am happy to introduce you to my newest offering: the secret garden, a 2012 patron program for retinal perspectives.

i won't try to explain it further here – there's already a whole page for that – but i do hope you like it.

visit the secret garden.

you know i have an image grab bag, right? digital images that come with freedom and permission and possibility?

kate of studiok8 sent me something that she created with one of my images. it's an encaustic (a medium i am not entirely familiar with but i know it has something to do with beeswax).

these pictures do not even do the piece justice. it's shiny and smooth and i can touch the center daisy! it's a little like braille; i can tell it's a daisy just by feeling it.

if she sold it in an etsy shop, i would want to buy it. it is the coolest thing ever.

i wish i could remember where i stumbled across this quote – possibly from someone on facebook – but i just love it.

"Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid."

-Albert Einstein

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

apparently i am taking nothing but photos of radiance these days, because i had a number of sets of radiance photos to choose from.

i picked these photos – from one particular set – because they aligned so well with my reason for choosing radiance and with what i am working on.

radiance is a patch of mud.

luminosity is a mud puddle.

really. is that not too perfect for words?

see. it doesn't have to snow this winter. i've already seen snow.

i saw snow last may when my sister helen and atlas and i went to lost lake and found ourselves driving through snow to get there. it was a warm day in portland and i thought hiking around a lake would be a great way to cool off.

we arrived at the lost lake campground – ready for a picnic and a hike around the lake – only to discover that it was chilly and snow-covered and the trail was mostly inaccessible. apparently they had plowed the road in order to open the campground for the year only a few hours before we arrived.

(i commented on how surprised i was to run into snow and helen said, "didn't you see the line in the guidebook where it said alpine lake?" apparently i did not. i was wearing shorts and sandals. let's just say that hiking in snow in sandals is not for the faint of feet.)

chill aside, lost lake has a lovely view of mount hood.

"oh, atlas, you're so cute when you smell things."

i like to dunk cookies in my soup, especially oatmeal raisin cookies. i think this started years ago during a period when i was buying my lunch in the cafeteria. i usually got a cup of soup and an oatmeal raisin cookie. i'd eat the cookie first, to give the soup time to cool, and dip the cookie into the soup a few times to check the temperature. it turns out that soup plus cookie is awfully tasty, so it stuck. (i would just like to say, for the record, that cookies are practically like bread, and most everyone likes soup plus bread.)

i only cut nine nails at a time; i always leave one thumbnail uncut. once i finally had fingernails again – after reiki helped me stop chewing my nails in my sleep – it seemed like every single time i would cut my nails, something would happen almost immediately that would make me wish i hadn't cut my nails. i would need them for something and they would be gone. to solve this problem, i started leaving one thumbnail uncut. whenever i cut my nails now, i just cut the thumbnail that is longer. it is such a handy practice. feel free to adopt it yourself.

when left to my own devices, i am a very strange movie watcher. first, i watch the beginning, maybe a chapter or two. then, i watch the ending, to make sure everything is going to be ok. then, i back up a chapter and watch to the beginning of the ending (because i have to know how they got to that ending!). then, i back up yet another chapter. then, i do this a few more times (though sometimes i'll back up two or three chapters instead of just one). sometimes, i watch the entire movie backwards. sometimes, i'll watch half of it backwards and then go back to where i left off in the beginning and watch the other half of it normally. sometimes, if it seems like the movie might be a little intense, i will look it up on wikipedia and read the entire synopsis so that i know exactly what happens (i love wikipedia for just this purpose) and then watch it in my usual unorthodox fashion. this particular habit got started because, for lack of a better way to explain this, i am sensitive to what happens in movies. i think this helps keep things at a distance. however, i will confess that it's gotten to the point where i watch most movies this way. it's probably a good thing i am not friends with any movie directors, because i feel sure they would not approve. (also, yay for dvds, without which i could not have started this practice at all!)

if you have any quirks you'd like to share, i'd love to hear them, because i say hurrah! for all the things that make us us.

i can’t quite put my finger on why, but i really really like this photo.

remember my year of trust? well, erin at vulnerable pulp is looking for trust this year. i loved seeing her first glimpse of it.

it turns out that ice skating is like riding a bike and also not at all like riding a bike, at least when you haven’t skated in ten or so years. as in, you might not fall, but you might not be able to do much more than remain on your feet either. the ice is a slippery place, and those blades are awfully thin.

atlas is getting up at least twice a night for potty breaks lately. it might be just a habit, but i cannot figure out how to change it. sometimes i wonder why i thought i would die of sleep-deprivation if i ever had children. when i think about it, i’ve been somewhat sleep-deprived ever since i got atlas – over eight years ago – and clearly i’m still functioning. i might not be at peak performance, but i’m definitely functioning.

i stumbled upon a website for someone who creates digital mandalas and i cannot stop watching the mandala movies. watching each mandalas morph and dance and transform is quite possibly the most mesmerizing thing i have ever seen.

how are you? what is going on in your world today?

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

i keep trying to write a post about the darker side of radiance – the things that have come up for attention since i invoked the power of radiance – but it. is. just. not. flowing. it feels sluggish and heavy and dark.

sluggish and heavy and dark is rather how it feels to work on all of this at times, but the thing that saves me is my sense of humor and my fascination with how my mind works, so the energy of this particular post is all wrong and i cannot publish it.

instead, here is a quick list of things i have learned this month. as i write each one down, i am sending the underlying pattern love and giving it permission to exist. and i am also giving myself permission to be glad that most of them are on their way out.

• it doesn't really matter what nice things people say about you, unless you believe them yourself.
• voices that are older and more familiar, even if they are mean and hurtful, are easier to believe.
• even if i believe i am worthy now, old patterns that are based on the (now faulty) premise that i am unworthy need to come up for attention so i can look at them with fresh eyes.
• i am very good at projecting my own beliefs about myself onto the people in my relationships, which is why i am always waiting for the moment when they leave.
• of course it is hard for me to be vulnerable and to tell people how wonderful i think they are and how much i care about them if i am waiting for them to leave.
• my identity for 30 plus years has been based on the belief that i am unworthy. by invoking radiance, i am asking for my entire identity to shift. i sort of missed this part.
• practicing vulnerability in relationships is hard and important and very worth it.
• goodness, or the anticipation of goodness, can be scary too.

om shanti shanti shanti.