Office cat

Monday, February 11, 2019

Cat on chair, attorney’s office

Fever broke this day and I saw this cat.

Pictures of food

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Eggs and bacon things

Freezing outside, fever inside.

But the fridge was stocked so I spent the morning making egg and bacon things and then potato soup from scratch. A first for both. The latter turned out a bit too thick but super good.

Boatload of love

Saturday, February 9, 2019

File under: Good mail

Healthwise: In the arc of my cold, this day would prove to be that part when the rollercoaster is still clicking up that first big hill—it hasn’t reached peak yet, but you know it is there.

Otherwise: there were things to be sorted and addressed on all fronts: work, family, legal and emotional. I lost my cool a bit on this day, but in hindsight, it needed to happen.

My takeaway: Visualizing, and articulating the future you want is important when things feel overwhelming.

The bright side: Getting some good mail. Friends sent this Valentine card and it brought a smile out.

Cruller

Friday, February 8, 2019

My favorite donut

Feed a cold, they say, and luckily a studiomate had a meeting a donut shop earlier and brought back extras for the office.

She asked my favorite and I said “Cruller, plain cake or glazed.”

I’m boring.

Crullers have always been a bit magical to me. How on earth do they make those spirals? Turns out you simply pipe the dough through a star shaped tip on a pastry bag. Well that explains that.

This was day two of deep voice for me, little did I know it would snowball over the weekend into FULL ON COLD with a fever, which, according to the tale meant I had to starve myself. (Luckily, I just listen to my body and try and eat adequately no matter what and minimize bad choices, which is a daily struggle.)

Alas, luckily I can still mentally operate in times of physical duress so I was able to keep cramming on work. Which I did, transforming question marks into exclamation points.

And now for some vitamin C to wash that cruller down.

77

Thursday, February 7, 2019

Kettle whistling

Woke up today with an incredibly deep voice. Something is up in the ol’ throat area. Cold? Flu? Something else? I dunno. But seriously, if I sounded like this all the time I’d start a podcast immediately.

(I’m writing this the day later and it got even deeper. You can hear a sample here.)

So it’s tea instead of coffee for me, with local honey to help push me back to fighting form.

February 7th is notable because it was my dad’s birthday. If he were alive today he’d be 77.

I sure do miss him.

At the end of the day? He epitomized love.

If there were deficits or differences? He always brought love to the table.

It was his foundation to approach the world and the torch I remind myself to carry when visibility is low.

It won’t always be like this

Wednesday, February 6, 2019

The window of Cryptogram in Northside with beautiful analog slices of color

Jon Flannery of Cryptogram has been teaming up with Joe Walsh to entertain the notion of chance and creation—as they call it, Take a Moment. They’re always up to something and this display in the window is a solid moment indeed.

Sidenote: Jon printed my Us, Today design for an oversized supergraphic poster. I need to get mine framed.

Meditation

Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Edie on couch, not meditating, but actively trying to avoid acknowledging me.

On a list of life goals I have tucked away in a cigar box I have written “meditation.”

Yesterday I tried Tap In for a collective session to meditate together, remotely through an app. An app that was curiously devoid of any cruft aside from the number of participants and a clear voice and live backing music.

Ten minutes went by quickly, focusing on breath and connection to self and to the ground. It was lovely. I felt a tiny bit lighter when it was complete.

I could get into this.

From the nosebleeds

Monday, February 4, 2019

Cher performing an ABBA song at the KFC Yum Center in Louisville, Kentucky

I inherited a ticket to see Cher.

It originally was a gift from my brother to our mom bought many months ago.

We spent the drive down talking about her life and the lessons we may still learn from her.

One of the main things I intend to improve upon is communicating better. Maybe that’s why this photo journal is so important to me…

My mom was phenomenal with the random card with thoughts or appreciation as hand written artifact. When we send such things out into the world, they lift the spirit.

I don’t think it’s limited to print.

Younger generations know the value of communication with videos and snaps and filters and the addition of text and music and all the other amazing things you can do with apps these days. My fear though, is that these messages aren’t kept. It’s hard to do that on a platform that favors instant gratification and hardware limited by space.

There’s got to be a way to marry these distinct differences and retain the best elements.

Anyway, that’s a helluva tangent.

As for Cher? The show itself was a big production that spanned her (quite incredible) career. I won’t lie, I wanted to hear more stories. I wished it was just her and a comfortable chair and a piano player—she could command our attention even without all the dancers and animations.

But I love her, what she’s done, what she’s doing and what she believes.

It was an honor to be there when it comes down to it.

Mom would’ve loved it.

Even from the nosebleeds.