I'm out of room for photo storage here on blogger, so the show will go on the road and settle over here from now on.

Come play:)

Day 62. Glass

The window of the yoga room.

Inside this window was a warm and watery practice and a bunch of beautiful women, offering their energy out.

We offered to each other, to Japan, to my cousins on the day of their father's passing.

We offered, I bet, to a lot of people I don't even know about. I hope it gets there.

The Bhagavad Gita says that the work we do is ours, but the fruits of our labour belong to no one.

(I love this.)

So we offered up the fruits in this warm room with sparkly windows.

Day 61. Graffiti

Sol seems to have a few different meanings:

• The name of the sun god or just simply the sun
• It is an old French coin and also a Peruvian monetary unit
• Shit out of luck

And my favourite:

• 'Prayed for' and 'peace.'

I'm sure this last one is what this guy meant.

(Please note the arrow pointing at Natalie Portman's bum.)

Thirty more

30 more. Thank you, Bonnie B, for collaborating on this delicious list!

Graffiti

Glass

Colourful

Rust

Past

Guardian

Self + 5 favourite things

Weakness

Hurt

Linger

Aura

Fire engine red

Clear

Free

Blue

Love

Low

Conversation

Window

Growth

Bottle

Mirror

Close up

Flowers

Home

Sidewalk

Mood

Shadow

Black & White

Paint

Day 60. Time

Sun, high noon-brightest bit of the day.

"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."-Albert Einstein

(Thank goodness.)

Day 59. Wilderness

You might think you ought to go far to find the wilderness, as I thought.

But then, i stepped out into my very urban back lane, and got stared down by the wild eyes of this crow. They're geniuses, apparently, and they remember things forever.

This fall, there was one that got hit by a car in the back lane.

I left him bits of carrots and a bowl of water.

He cawed up a storm, but eventually ate my offerings. I like to think that he survived, not because of the carrots and water of course, but because of his wildness.

And now I'll bet, still wild of course, he is the same guy who stared me down this morning.

Perhaps politeness was an invention of the tame and that his deep wild eyes looked into mine with a nod that I didn't understand because I've forgotten my wildness.

Day 58. Light/Dark

Light/dark balance observed in one of Winnipeg's most beautiful old mansions at 529 Wellington; a surprisingly uncreepy place despite its rich and heavy materials: Velvety draperies, dark wood, and grand staircase have got nothing on the light.

Day 57. Shiny

This tree lives (eternally!) down the street. It was a big old tree that died and the person who lived in the house just behind it decided to honour it with big silver leaves that don't fall like the usual ones. The rotting parts of the tree were cut down to make room and space to adorn it with these silver petals.

The person got the idea from someone who did the same in England I think.

There is a little sign that explains all of this in the front yard, but it is covered in snow.

Day 56. Treat

Sometimes treats don't come in the form of something you eat.

Sometimes they come in the form of sweet little paper hearts, precariously dropped upon a crumbly snow bank, on an especially grey day in Winter.

Day 55. Grey

Grey. In Winnipeg. End of February/beginning of March. (+ downtown.)

Not a problem.

Humble, quiet grey.

Day 54. Motion

I don't stop moving much to tell you the truth of it.

But sometimes I do-in the afternoon for a bit. During that time I pledge to do only settling things so that my energy has a chance to settle and sort itself out.

Sometimes I do that and sometimes I make a million vata footprints in the snow.

There's not much in between the two for me, except asana, but my dream is to find the equilibrium.