Merry Christmas 2018

;D

post for November

Someday I'll go back and fill in all of these with something creative or profound.  Someday.

Inktober 2018

An attempt was made...
Through online sharing sites I noticed last year Inktober, and though I am late to the party (as usual) and gleaning snippets of what this is about with no concrete , I gathered it was for artists to post online an ink drawing for each day of October.  I anticipated my participation in Sept as Inktober came around again this year, and was quickly overwhelmed by this daunting challenge.
I guess its hard because I make it hard on myself.  Lines crisp, shapes precise, composition planned,  decisions weighed and deliberate.  Mistakes are to be avoided lest they hamper the intended result.  As we just passed Bob Ross birthday We dont make mistakes, we just have happy accidents.  - a nice sentiment, but easier said than done for me personally.  I just dont _relax_.
I was dissatisfied with some attempts not meeting my expectations, I didnt want to just submit squiggles on the back of a napkin.  Fell short of my monthly quota, but quality over quantity.
Here is my Inktober.  Enjoy.

On boats in September

September was marked by two boat trips; a long weekend to Newcastle and Protection Island, and a cruise tour in Harrison Lake.

back from travels

Returned from England, France, and Nova Scotia. It felt like this trip wasn't really 'mine', I was merely a facilitator.  Still I got to see some things I wanted to, and I didn't kill any of our travel group.  It will take me a while to write a full report, so this is a quick note for now.

To England, then France

Too busy moving/doing to compose something detailed here. More later. Cheers.

Musings of a mule.

The end of May found me along on the Vancouver Orpheus Male Voice Choir's North by Northwest tour.  My friend has been singing with them for years and I've been on tour with them once before across the prairies, perhaps 10 years ago.  This tour they are headed across northern (populated) BC, which is still fairly middle of the province; to Terrace, Kitimat, Burns Lake, Smithers, Prince George and Barkerville.  Aside from Barkerville I hadn't been to any of these places before and have been greatly looking forward to this trip since planning in February.  Once the money was down for the transportation and hotels (an interesting departure from my usual vagabond style), I could relax somewhat and follow the herd.
I rode on planes and tour bus like the majority of the group, lumped in with "the spouses", while said friend rode along on his motorcycle.  Since he would have no spare room for luggage let alone the tuxedo that should be clean and pressed, I could pack my clothes along with his and carry both our gear.  Thus I am his mule! I don't mind, it was a great opportunity for both of us.
He left by bike two days ahead, with overnight stops in Cache Creek and Vanderhoof.
A friend dropped me off at the airport early before his work shift (thanks!) and I had ample time to sit and be still.  My mind is usually a comfortable cocoon.  By outward appearances it would seem like 'bored and waiting', but I am really content with stillness especially amidst the hustle and bustle of an airport.  People confused or frustrated with an electronic check-in process and other airport protocols, the airport is not a fun place for me and is often my least favorite part of travelling.  One benefit of travelling with the herd is the protection of the group.  Soon familiar faces and matching turquoise jackets with logos filtered into the check-in area, and we were bounced between a few service attendants who could process our herd.  Along lines, gates, corridors.  Moo...
I relax once I'm through the ever-tightening TSA screening, being used to international flights I'm ready to throw EVERYTHING into the scanning tubs like a seasoned pro! I get through without incident, and security didn't steal my chocolate bars.
Flight was uneventful - which I've heard is the aim of commercial pilots - over clouds that obscured the land below and we arrived in chill Terrace mid-afternoon.

Terrace - Terrace is a small town but with all the shops and amenities we need; primarily a Save-On Foods for travel snacks and a Canadian Tire for motorcycle stuff for buddy's bike.  Had a few restaurant options as well, we enjoyed enchiladas at Don Diego's Restaurant, 'twas yummy.
Mornings were leisurely with the hotel's breakfast buffet included and friendly staff.  Our kitchen attendant was also the hotel maintenance guy, who is/was a medic in some manner of bush camps but still working full days with no time off to afford rent and presumably bills.  I would've thought a medic would be well valued for their necessity+qualifications and compensated accordingly enough to last the off-season.  It made me curious about employment, wealth, expenses and survival there 'up north', but I didn't want to pry.  Everyone's got a story.  He gave each of the ladies a rose fashioned out of a strawberry.
The tour bus would drive groups of us what I would consider an easily walkable distance into town, but for the sake of group unity it was simply convenient.  Terrace was also sharply cold which discouraged my exploration despite never have been here before.  Locals insisted it was brightly sunny just a week prior to our visit, of course! It rained none or barely, but was constantly damp with a stiff breeze that made the poplars and aspens rustle and shimmer all day.  We slept with the hotel window open just to listen to the sound.

Some of us visited the farmers' market, some browsed shops.  Three ladies accompanied me on a promenade walk that follows the railway lines, interested in geocaching but I had scant luck finding many to show them.  Sharp wind, brisk walk, didn't linger long.  I warmed up in the hotel sauna alone.  Sauna makes everything better.
The joint concert was at Knox United church with the Terrace RE Choir and Sine Nomine.  Solid performances in a cozy venue that was very full with a receptive audience, a great kickoff for the tour! The afterglow was at Mumford's Bar and Grill, I had a local Sherwood Brewing Munich lager and a caeser with a fiddlehead garnish, and grazed on several light appies including venison.  Much smiles all around.

Kitimat - After hotel breakfast we boarded the bus for a day trip to Kitimat, which included a buffet lunch there as a treat for the choir and a concert in Mount Elizabeth Theater (in the high school) with Sine Nomine.  One of the choir member's daughter lived there and joined our bus as a very informative guide to the history of the town particularly its dependence on the aluminium factory there, the decades of boom and bust from being tied to resources like many Canadian towns.  The fellas went to rehearsal and the spouses filled our guide's living room for tea for an hour or so.  Tea makes everything better.

Theaters are typically designed for, well, theater: plays and spoken word, without the resonance that churches offer that favours choirs.  This theater was pretty unforgiving but we appreciated the opportunity as the audience was glad for the entertainment.  This concert was the debut of my friend's joint solo for Baba Yetu, the Lord's Prayer in Swahili.  I learned this with him earlier this spring, both for support but also because I really enjoy the song.  I can now belt it out comfortably without music or lyrics at any given bus stop in the wee hours of the night! Seemed like a proud accomplishment to watch it all come together, and in days to come it got even better!
It rained in Kitimat, and when it wasn't raining it was a heavy grey.  I am no stranger to grey.  I saw the grey settle like a sheet of lead over the town.  After the concert it was still somewhat light out because we're further north and getting further towards summer, but it was a grey that warned of cold nightfall at any moment, time where I would want to stop moving and set up camp for the night.
I was glad I was in a plushy comfy seat on a coach bus, warm and effortlessly moving towards the hotel in Terrace.  I scanned the roadside and rivers looking for bears in the dying light.  This is not the place to walk or camp.  We passed a billboard of women's faces.
This road that we're touring along is Highway 16, the infamous Highway of Tears.  Here many women have gone missing.  Sometimes their remains are found.  I'm sure a quick search would provide ample stats, but I'll spare you the displeasure here.  I've heard that some disappeared women in the were attributed to a con who died in an Oregon jail years ago, yet unsolved murders remain and count still, suggesting one or more copycats.  The notoriety hovers over this road like a haunting urban legend and with enough truth to be cautionary - and dissuade single female backpackers like myself.  Not this road.  All the folks we've met on this trip were kind and hospitable and yet... never walk this road.
I did not see any bears this evening.

K'san, onto Smithers - I found a few more geocaches in the morning after breakfast, then we left in the morning for a long drive through beautiful country.  One of our choir members is a retired geologist who gave us the geological history of the area.  It was a long drive following a river which mountains seems so close and imposing.  The sharp jagged peaks were above the top of the ice shield in the time of glaciers, they were never grounded smooth.  The weather improved and we hoped to leave the rain behind us.

 We stopped at the historic native village of K'san, which translates to Village of the River of Mist.  We got a tour of the replica longhouses with a guided presentation, they did a great job and we thanked them with a song The Gift - sung somewhat appropriately in the gift shop at the end.  Personally I think it would've been more atmospheric in the dark wood Wolf House feast hall, which would've held entertainment during potlatches, and a bit less cluttered with mannequins and displays in bright lights.  The Gift has no literal translation and is a composition of sounds common to several native dialects, meant to convey welcoming and gratitude.

The narrow valley opened into a flatter, wider valley with more farmland.  In Smithers we were still at the base of Hudson Bay mountain.  The hotel had both a sports bar (Don Cherry) and a more upscale restaurant with an Italian theme (Noir), which shared a kitchen so we could order a fine dinner and eat in the bar with the group, which we did; steak w/mushroom linguini, with a Shocktop beer.  I longed to go exploring and not squander the late daylight hours, so I walked the length of town west along the suburban street parallel the highway, a stretch less than two miles, was foiled by two geocaches, then returned east to find another cache in the marshland trails near the hotel.  Satisfied I headed to bed by 10pm and it was still a bit light out.

The next morning we were given options on where the tour bus would take us on a day trip, and the majority of our herd settled on Driftwood Canyon, a fossil bed north of town.  Too late I thought to check for geocaches on the hotel WiFi, and once there my friend's smartphone had no signal for internetty abilities. Thus I surrendered the compulsion to find caches and followed the the herd, a lovely park and bus ride.  Upon returning to town we regained internettiness and I could see there was indeed a geocache and a geology-based earthcache there.  Oh well, I guess I won't 'find' them...  In town the bus driver then found that he'd misplaced his phone somewhere in the park and would promptly drive back to search for it, meaning I could get a second chance! With the coordinates and trivia questions texted to me from the hotel (thanks!) I could access once we're out of receiving range, we sped back to find it (still a lovely drive, but noticeably faster) and I ran to find the cache and earthcache info.  When I returned triumphant I found the driver had simply left his phone charging in an overhead compartment, making that mad dash altogether unnecessary.  It seems again that I just have peculiar luck.

The concert was in Smithers Christian Reformed church, which used to be a high school, which thankfully had the sound of a church rather than a high school.  Performing with the Local Vocals Community Choir we had another great show, well received by the audience and great fun.  Our Baba Yetu was even better! The afterglow was at the Alpenhorn, but despite making reservations our herd overwhelmed their staff and our booth was lost in the crowd, we left without even placing an order and continued our own party of four back at Don Cherry's.  Thankfully the caesars and nachos came swiftly.
Our last morning here was easy, after breakfast I took another walk/cache around the east end of town before we left.

Burns Lake - This was a quick stop compared to others; another buffet lunch of lasagna+salad treat for the choir, now at the Grapevine Bistro, then a concert at the First Mennonite church with the Lakes District Community Choir and The Chambermaids.  The afterglow was downstairs in the church itself with a generous spread of home baking, sandwiches and snack veggies, and these kind folks sent us home with the leftovers.  We stayed just one night in the sleek Key-Oh Lodge, which happened to be just a little too far from even my closest geocache for the broken up free time the spouses had before organised plans and buses came to fetch us.  Also a cougar was spotted behind the lodge that afternoon, so perhaps best not to wander off alone if one doesn't have time to devote to possible altercations and/or ensuing medical treatment.  My focus here is on the concerts! I mustn't miss the bus!!
The next morning we had a breakfast buffet at The Office as the lodge lobby wouldn't have facilities or seating for our herd.  The bus took a detour to see Francois Lake, which was grey at the time, and cute Stellako Lodge which was closed at the time.  We ate the many leftover snack veggies, and the mosquitos ate us.
Onto Prince George, with a brief stop and Tim Hortons in Vanderhoof.

Prince George - We settled into our hotel and had a free evening to find our own dinner and try for some geocaches close to the hotel.  My friend came with me to cache - he's extremely observant, I know he'll have a knack for it! - and check out the concert venue, St Michael and the Angels Anglican church, which was conveniently a few short blocks from the hotel.  The bus still offered a ride for unity and comfort, though by this time many had figured it's faster to walk that to 'organise' those using the bus at the risk of leaving anyone behind.  We got some White Spot burgers+beer, and  he returned to the hotel while I cached westward till dusk.
The next day was an uninterrupted block of time till the evening concert, after breakfast at the Winston's Resto-Bar in the hotel I used that afternoon to walk around the northern edge of town caching, some more challenging than others, around suburbs, then across the overpass to a buckling paved promenade that skirted the railway yard and industry and followed while crumbling into the river.  It rained but I ignored it, the tall old cottonwood trees deflected some of it.  I saw magpies and robins.  Good walk but after about four hours I was tired enough to return to the hotel, shower and reheat some breakfast leftovers for a late lunch, knowing we might graze something small at the afterglow later.  In search of a plate downstairs for the microwave in our room I noticed the lobby had a dog in a little exercise space by the front desk, a polite little lady named Alice.  The hotel is partnered with the animal shelter to feature an animal up for adoption, it's great for them to get exposure and socialised.  Alice was very happy to be pet, quiet and only whimpered when I stopped petting her.  Good dog.

The concert was a fantastic, the last formal full-length show of the tour.  This setup gave handheld mics for the soloists, and Baba Yetu was heard clearly and gained many compliments after the show.  Nove Voce is an organized and highly accomplished choir, and despite half their ladies being out of town they could round out the higher, fuller sound of joint pieces with the men.  The afterglow was at Cimo Mediterranean Grill just two doors down from the church.  I was the first one there after the show and glad to see the staff seemed prepared for our great herd - we still doubled the 'forty' they were expecting (ha!) but they handled it in good spirits, we kept their chef plenty busy!
Eventually our numbers dwindled and they closed up shop around us.  'Twas a very late night.

 

Barkerville - Today was a day trip easily spelled out for us, returning to Prince George later that night so no need to pack, just get on the bus and enjoy the two hour ride.  Even my motorcycle man opted to take the bus, a comfy shoulder to doze off on during the ride back.
I was here just last year but missed getting the sourdough from the bakery, so I made it a goal this year and picked up six buns since we wouldn't motorbike or fly with a loaf well.  Love me some fresh baking.  It wasn't the tangiest sourdough I've had though, this is what happens when you build up expectation in your mind, but still a simple handheld snack for the walk around town.  We also stopped by the general store which had a nice selection of licorice.

Archaeologists and reconstructionists keep adding to Barkerville, so it seems there's something new there that I hadn't read or noticed before, or simply didn't have time to get to last time.  I'm one of those that must read every sign and plaque, and with actors in period roles we can engage in conversations and hear their stories, really one can spend a full day here.  There's even accommodations onsite for an overnight stay.  There were demonstrations/presentations throughout the day and a variety show in the theater I heard afterwards was excellent, but we contented ourselves wandering around and investigating buildings, listening to birds and the creek and eating bun+licorice.  I revisited one geocache outside just up from the parking lot.
The choir gathered in the saloon and drew a crowd that was likely both eager to hear the songs and escape the brief rain.  The saloon smelled like beef soup.  The choir sang a few songs about fishermen and miners, a selection that we felt fit the theme of this resource town, a Gold Rush town.
That evening was the wind-up buffet dinner with roast beef, fish and chicken, and we had double caesars with almost as much garnish as drink, including bacon! The spouses performed a silly skit song as per tour tradition, and many thanks were given and toasts for many reasons.  There was a huge birthday cake for our young assistant director, looking like a black forest but with a strawberry mousse instead of cherries.  Had a shot of Amarula we sipped neatly, and a Jamaican coffee as if more dessert.  We waddled back to the hotel, fat and happy.

The next day we climbed - and I mean climbed - a prominent lookout hill close to our hotel for one last geocache here before loading the bus.  He's remarkably fit and could easily bound up a grassy slope I carefully pick my way up, he then relieved me of my loaded purse and much 'unnecessary crap' and still reached the top smiling while I'm dying amidst much complaint.  Poor mule! Yes I am aware that my cardio is shit and I should really work on that.
We loaded the bus for the last time, my friend helped load the bus though he wouldn't be on it.  He vanished and we didn't see him ride off, I would later get reports of his wet ride to Clinton for the night and then straight back to the Lower Mainland.  Good to be back home and refine his supplies and gear for another trip sometime in the summer.  And see his beloved bunny again.
The bus took us to the airport, which processed our herd with seemingly less confusion than our Vancouver airport.  I could've whooshed through Prince George if the fella in front of me hadn't forgotten about some metal in his knee.  Flight back was uneventful.  Fellow choir members relieved me of my mule-burden, the tuxedo bag with his+mine assorted luggage, I'll get mine later.  They also gave me a lift to my next potluck engagement back in Vancouver (thanks!)
Altogether it was a great opportunity to travel to new towns, in a part of BC that I'd been curious about but along a road I'd never walk on my own.  I realised that ate eggs and fruit almost everyday and felt better for it, perhaps I should keep it up.  Most of all I thoroughly enjoyed the music.
Thanks Orpheus for having me along on tour!

...brings May flowers.

The weather is more consistently sunny in May, my wardrobe is a little brighter and maybe my outlook too.  Soon I'll attend the evening entertainment as daylight hours run longer, nothing game-changing but just simply pleasant.  Here are some flowers around the West End.
I've visited smaller communities surrounding Vancouver: Steveston, Fort Langley, White Rock.  Just a brief visit for an afternoon, it feels like a breath of fresh air.  Proud of their history, mellow jazz quartet in the park, farmer's market on the weekend, easy walk along the promenade.  Sometimes I think I could/should settle in a community like that, but there's not a lot of services or employment available if I can't 'get by' on selling art alone (not that I've really attempted to do so thusfar).  Idyllic and cute, but at the mercy of tourist dollars - then again, much of Vancouver is too.  Maybe it's enough just to visit.  Maybe it doesn't matter where I am, given that I carry my "home" on my back.
I've been alone and with friends.  Had conversations both light and deep with people I see either rarely or often.  Good to bounce ideas off of, so thank you all for that.

I watched the trains come along the White Rock beach.  It sounded its horn from afar, and for a brief moment I felt the urgent pang from childhood raised by the tracks, that you must CHOOSE what side of the tracks to be on for the duration of the train passing.  The side with the beach, or the side with ice cream shops?! Whichever side we don't choose, all that it offers will be unavailable! I then thought how that's such a knee-jerk trigger when my adult sensibilities know I have plenty of time to mosey across the tracks before the trains arrival, and that both sides will be an option once the train passes, and this too shall pass. I can't recall at what age this shift in attitude came, and thought on that barring any life-altering event or recognised milestone we don't really notice growing up.

I still wave at the trains as they pass, in case the engineer waves back.  There's no more caboose at the end of the trains, just an electronic eye I suppose is for safety.  I wave at that too.

The precariousness of providence.

April brings about brighter times, the weather a bit warmer and skies a bit bluer.  It's felt like a long dull winter and many are desperate to shrug off that insulating grey instead to seek some fresh input - anything, even the smallest detail.  Some are already stubbornly in sandals despite the looming threat of long constant rain, but with the sharp frosts behind us the flowers are abundant and celebrated.  Somehow I'd barely noticed the pioneering crocuses fight their way through hard ground this spring, but the year rolls on whether one's preoccupied or not.  We're already in tulip+daffodil season now.
Vancouver had our annual Cherry Blossom Festival, and the different strains of cherry trees here stagger their peak blooming time to give us a whole month of flowering trees and parks.  I attended a guided walk a few springs ago, weaving our way through tiny pockets of greenspaces and urban oasis I assumed were private courtyards.  There is a certain peace of mind that comes with observing the cherry blossoms, even as they're drifting apart like delicate confetti.  The 'sakura' epitomize the fleeting nature of youth and beauty.  Around this time of year I like to reread Will Ferguson's "Hitching Rides With Buddha", about a Westerner's northward migration following the cherry blossoms in Japan.  I have not been to Japan but found it an engaging read with good storytelling.
There seemed to be plenty of subtle hints of loss this month, yet somehow neither grim nor depressing, just... is.  Rabbit hemorrhagic fever swept the area decimating the wild rabbit population as well as a rabbit shelter.  A wave of flu ran through my friend's household that took an alarming toll on our elderly lady - currently she's fine, but brought to light that not everyone will recover always and that loved ones should have info and plans in place before the natural grief leaves us spinning our wheels, bringing in further difficult emotions.  I caught a segment on CBC Radio One about death, coping, and expression in art.  We discovered the WeCroak app of quotes and reminders to use our finite time wisely.  Altogether has been a creeping reminder of mortality tempered with philosophy - not to fortify ourselves against it but to be aware and maybe even appreciate it, to bend with grace to that we cannot change.  Everything and everyone I want to 'keep' can be lost.  And yet I feel quite calm.
I attended the Surrey Vaisakhi again this year, joining the throngs of masses for my fill of pakora, chaat, halwa and endless chai.  I was very satisfied with deliciousness! As well I amassed a full grocery bag of packaged goods, including my annual haul of Coke+Doritos which I ration carefully for the rest of the year.  I was there with great company, Enough of grey or even muted smokey blue, I wore bright turquoise! With that came good memories of the one who gave it to me, a good time we had back then.  While Vaisakhi is a foreign cultural observance, maybe I can have my own personal celebration.
From Surrey I returned to downtown Vancouver via a combination of buses and promptly lost a bag with half my edible goodies.  Providence giveth and taketh away.  While terribly annoying I can be grateful that a) I didn't pay for any of the yummy things, b) I didn't leave my purse of vital contents instead, and c) that as perishables are "up to the driver's discretion" to dispose of maybe it made a nice surprise for the bus driver, let the working man enjoy it since he likely didn't attend the event.
I had a great day with my belated tea+tarot reading.  Tea was a fun lychee-flavored one, good for spring.  As usual the cards gave me something to chew on; Chaos and Interference, but also a hermit in my recent past and the Ace of both Swords and Stones (Coins, Pentacles), both gifts from the universe! I think we have gifts from the universe often, and I acknowledge that I'm a lucky person, the key is to be aware of it.

Chilliwack and Hope

And so began a journey to see towns I seldom see.  I know they're there, and can provide services and amenities as reasonable civilization, but I usually just pass them by along the freeway.  I've brought my bag full of camping gear mostly intending to be independent, but as weather unfolds into unwelcoming rain and cold, I chose instead to stay indoors - either splurge on my own room with a shower+bed, or hobo out at a 24hr establishment.

I depart in March.

And what about March?
It started off with my annual volunteering at the wine festival, featuring Spain+Portugal which I treat as a pleasant primer and research for my trip there next year.  I enjoyed engaging with common enthusiasts, principals and reps, and my fellow team.  That was a nice time,  for both the lectures and tasting room.
Right on the heels of that was a friend's birthday+wine tasting, and I found the conversation there comparatively less... enriching? Just that there's so much and it's yummy with nothing distinct about each and if given the opportunity to attend a tasting room they'd be SO hungover for work the next day!! Frankly this pervasive attitude towards alcohol just seems cheap and trashy and makes me just not want to invite people along to such events.  Too many around me make this a prerequisite for having a good social time.  Jeez people, lay off the sauce already. 
Maybe I'm a stick-in-the-mud or just not a party girl, but this just amplified my desire to be mostly alone now.  Along with my usual seasonal restlessness is the anniversary of sad events last year - I am blessed/cursed with a very good memory of such things - and the prevalence of St.Patrick's Day and Spring Break to party loudly and in excess.  I've chosen not to contribute my birthday to such, it would only get lost in the mix and and overlooked altogether.  I just want to go... away.
Thus I have selected a destination/route and will trek elsewhere, alone.  Chilliwack and Hope: two reasonably close-by towns along a major corridor which many pass by often but few visit longer than a quick lunch break on a road trip.  Although the weather may be inhospitable still with frost in the morning, I will spend a few days with tent and camp stove, living off ramen noodles and granola bars.  And a bottle of wine that was likely intended to drank young but that I've been keeping too long - if it's turned sour I'll simply get some oil+bread and sop it up with appreciation nonetheless.  Maybe light a candle.  Maybe bathe in a river.  Maybe watch the sunrise.  I think I need something clean, even if I'm dirty in the forest.  I need fresh air, even if it smells like the farmland of the Fraser Valley.  It just feels more honest and rewarding.  Even this long walk with a heavy pack gives me satisfaction, simply because I can.  There may come a day when I can't.

Re-staining.

What can I say about February? We've had snow and rain, as can be expected.  We've had Valentine's Day (which I still don't support one socially recognised day to acknowledge one relationship exclusively, and thus tried to spread out to see several treasured people); I went to Le Crocodile for fine French cuisine - passed on the fois gras but had escargot and liked the frogs legs in a broth rather than deep fried I had last year, and then a very nice caribou meal.  The next day I had a casual seafood melt at Speedy's pub on the river in Ladner for Valentine's Day brunch.
I skipped the Chinese New Year festivities in Chinatown, as the weather and crowds seemed less appealing than a lazy comfortable time among friends.
I should get going, on what I do not yet know.  There is my usual restless need for spring and better weather and opportunities, yet close memories of last year are uncomfortable and never far from mind.
In my travels I've found that places are like secondhand furniture: I'm not the first one to 'own' it and many have been here before, but it's new to me and now that it's with me I will personalise it to make it mine.  Sometimes that means sanding, stripping, refinishing, polishing, painting.  For wood this can be staining.  Old stains from many careless coffee cups on a table without coasters, spilled sauce or leaky pens, or perhaps a deliberate decorative stain that was meticulously done with care but just doesn't suit the new owner.  Maybe it's an accidental spill, or ugly blemish, or just outdated color.  It all soaks into the grain and can take much sanding to remove, or else find a way to re-stain it to some satisfactory condition I can live with.  That's where I'm at now.  Some places I was happy there I hesitate to revisit just because they're beautiful as I remember them, like Ireland.  Some routes I tread frequently like my childhood stomping grounds, and have enough associations both good and bad that it seems a multilayered spattering of nothing specific, just familiarity like an old workbench with the history of many projects.  And some places need to be re-stained, a way to reclaim them.  Given my typically very good memory of what happened where and when (perhaps I should've been a museum archivist or such), I ruminate carefully on the size, depth and degree of these stains to best choose what to accentuate and what to 'fix'.

Steady first, then movement.

"You have the power over your mind - not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength." - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Dragon Turtle, combines courage and luck with longevity and stability.

As the first month of 2018 comes to a close I have no writing, arts or crafts to offer here.  Honestly I've been quite inactive and fermenting in thoughts with no resolution.  
-Thinking of turtles; native American spirit totem symbolising a self-contained creative source.  When I was younger I was spontaneously prolific, now much of my creations are tempered with design and - of course - planning.  Perhaps dormant dragons resemble turtles? Or maybe a dragon turtle in Eastern folklore (pictured here).  Some features remind me of my developed 'demon' creation I've drawn for years.
-Thinking of stones; commercially valued semiprecious stones or common tumbled beach pebbles.  Pretty and smooth and strong, their steady solidness a contrast to the plants that are just awakening now, which hopefully won't be killed off by a late frost.
-Thinking of grey; the myriad of different greys that carry more than a suffocating fog, but a serene dove grey, an earthy slate grey, the scholarly scratchings of pencil or graphite grey, the phantom smudge of smoke grey.  The stormy sky of summer grey, and how it's different from the calm sky of winter grey, and the grey of the sea.  Grey will compliment and balance the excitement of vibrant color.

I also rewatched an online series Philosophy: A Guide to Happiness by Alain de Botton.  Whether one agrees with or not the philosopher's suggestions presented, dialogue and self-examination are helpful in maintaining a critical yet fair perspective on attitude and circumstance.  "In order to live wisely, it isn't enough to read a philosophical argument once or twice, we need constant reminders of it, or we'll forget".  I find it quite refreshing.

I had back-to-back Australia Day and Robbie Burns Day (Scotland), and thus my obligatory kangaroo burger+didgeridoo and haggis+bagpipes. So begins the stirrings of far-off travel, though still just ideas.  Many places I've been I could happily revisit, but the latest thought are of northeastern Europe meandering from the Baltic to Black Sea, and Australia+New Zealand which I've been meaning to do since I was a kid, put to the back burner for 'easier' trips - in countries where I can hobo on a park bench and the wildlife isn't trying to kill me.