Meri's Musings

Looking back in a haze of nostalgia, I suspect that love is an extraordinary happening clothed in the every day, a wily thing that springs its tricks and slaps its knee in delight at coupled pratfalls. I'd love to greet it, "Ciao bella!" the moment it turns the corner, sticks out its foot and trips me up, making me exclaim with surprise over the skinning of my knee, the one that's puffed and swollen, and the capture of my heart, the heart so deeply buried that I didn't know it could be found. I'd love to serenade love with a song whose lyrics hum a pure note of truth as Rumi did when he gathered opposites in his hands and noted he became fierce like a lion and tender like the evening star when love dribbled warm and moist in the tender little cracks of his soul. I know he was talking about God, but love in its varied forms is my god. I'd sure as hell prefer to quote Rumi and say, "I was dead, then alive. Weeping, then laughing," rather than rec...

There's painting going on at my house. Not the kind I usually do. In fact, I'm not the one painting. There are professionals at work here, or will be when the sun comes up, painting the exterior of my house in a nice, understated gray with just a hint of brown for the body and darker related colors for trim and the front door. It's funny when I think of it. I've been told that my upcoming trip to Egypt for a writing seminar and initiation into spiritual mysteries will be transformative. I will undergo metamorphosis. And here I am, transforming the place where my body dwells. I'm getting ready to shed my outer skin. In just over a year, I've replaced all the carpet, painted all the rooms with carpet, gutted two bathrooms and rebuilt them from the ground up. Not to mention gutting my savings account. I've ordered cabinet knobs and pulls for the kitchen and the two bathrooms that don't have cabinet "jewelry." The carriage lights I ordered have ar...

Once in a while, once in a so to speak, the stars align just perfectly and Heaven smiles down upon you with an ear to ear grin and bestows upon you get the opportunity you never thought you'd get. There on those slender branches reaching for the sky outside the upper floor window just beyond the monitor right there on those rain-kissed branches whose leaves hold onto droplets that sparkle like diamonds, you discover that your little friend has come to call. And miracle of miracles, he allows you to reach out and grab the camera sitting next to you. . . . not only that, he waits for you to focus even though he's wondering why you're such a fumble-fingers. When you're ready he shivers and his feathers fluff just the tiniest bit, so you can see all the glorious colors on his back. Then he turns and looks over his shoulder as if to say, "Are you watching?" and flutters his wings so fast the camera's focus can't keep up just to show off his wingspeed. T...

It's been a while since I posted a self-portrait on Wednesday in the tradition started by Misty Mawn. Is anyone still playing along? I hope so. These "self-portrait" posts, difficult as they are at first because you're exposing yourself to strangers, are just marvelous. I just love reading these posts on other people's blogs. They're so telling, so revealing. The pictures show us one way of looking at you. The words tell us who you think you are, what you think about whatever it is you're thinking about, what emotions bubble to the surface when you're unguarded. But I also think that in a very significant way, all of my posts are self-portraits because they give you a glimpse of how the world looks through my eyes, what seems worthy of mentioning, where a stray thought leads me as I meander in my mind. Yours reveal yourself in the same way. I hope my posts also give you a hint of my humor and show me in all my glory. But if not. . . well, here's a ...

Some things captured my imagination in our foray to the tip of the Baja peninsula. Here's a visual essay of photos that begged me to take them. "Sun and Shadows" "Reach for the Sky" "Along the Highway" "Something for Rebecca" "The Sound of the Sea" "A Riot of Color" "Double Cross" "Muertos" "Super Saturated" Everywhere I looked, color called out to me. Not at all shy. Rarely subtle. A fiesta of color that oozes into your blood and awakens the artist's soul.

As promised, I'm going to fill you in on our great find in Todos Santos. It's an amazing little restaurant right across the street from The Hotel California. We'd been tipped off by a shopkeeper that it was "the" place to eat butI have to say that when I saw the sign on the wall "Tequila Sunrise whit the exquisite and authentic mexican cuisine flavor," I was a little skeptical. Ooooh, was I in for a surprise. First of all, it's colorful. Fun. Casual, warm and friendly. As you can tell from the backlighting, it's open to the street but there are ceiling fans to keep the air circulating. There were flat screen tv's tuned that day (09-09-09) to the U.S. Open Men's match going on. Every table was filled, I think. Quite a statement to fill the tables to capacity at lunch in a sleepy little town. There's a bar where the margaritas are mixed from scratch prior to being whisked to tables and of course the colorful sign advertising Margarita ...

After being disappointed with Cabo San Lucas, a place with unbelievably tacky tourist shops and time share salesmen that were apparently trained at Guantanamo, we headed down to the marina on Tuesday and got two car rental offices engaged in a bidding war to rent us a mid-size car so we could head up the coast to Todos Santos. We'd been led to believe that Todos Santos was a treasure trove of galleries and home to the Hotel California of Eagles song fame. Well, not quite. There were a couple of galleries in town (one was even open) and a bunch of shops, filled with folk art and glassware, catering to tourists. There were some pretty things and even some pretty racy things (like shot glasses that were X rated) and a whole lot of ho-hum things. It was clear that departed artist Frida Kahlo is a heroine to the Mexican people because we saw more of her (and that rascal Diego to some extent) than we did the Virgin Mary. And there IS a Hotel California, an establishment with a covered w...