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.

Day 53. Sign

Been waiting for an excuse to take a picture of this wabi-sabi garage.

I find it beautiful in its state of peeling-paint decay.

Beautiful in that any second 1904 when it was built might be revealed.

And then these signs jolt me back into the twenty first century (or late twentieth anyway.)

Day 52. Lines

Thank you, nature, for inspiration.

Three that I saw on cool, but incredibly bright late Sunday morning.

Day 51. Gigantic

These trees were practically here before the wind and the sun, I bet.

They live along the river, growing slowly and steadily, and the changes they've seen in their gigantic lifetimes must be gigantic too.

The trees seemed okay with my feet against them to demonstrate how big they are in contrast with a person.

Day 50. Little

Despite the gigantic-ness of the world around it, I notice this little, teeny-tiny nest often as I walk past it.

It's about 4 and half centimetres big.

My hand is there for reference. I don't touch nests. I fear it will ruin it for the bird, my stink on it, and that he'll be homeless.

I wondered, as usual, what kind of bird is so little as to live in this tiny nest? And does he/she live alone? Is this some sort of a bird bachelor pad? The quiet abode of a bird ascetic? A lone wolf (-bird?)

Day 49. Ritual

If there's something that makes my world go 'round a little more smoothly and nourishingly, it's having some ritual in it. I am care-ful with my days and try to infuse them with ritual rather than habit. For me, that's the difference between stagnation and livelihood.

Sometimes I forget about ritual, but then my spirit cries out, or worse yet, becomes very, very quiet. It's apparent very quickly when I've forgotten it.

Structure is cool too. The structure is for my brain and body, ritual is food for the spirit.

• Open eyes, step down some stairs, turn on the kettle, warm glass of water, grind some seeds.
• Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, savasana.
• Coat+boots. Leash. Excited dog. Adventure along river, trudge through snow, under sky, smelling things. Home, tired, sleep in pile.
• Walk down the back lane, walk up stairs-one breath per step, unlock yoga room, light a candle, humbly bow to the Buddha's equanimity, and jai to Ganesh.
• Replace clothing with more comfortable clothing. Brush teeth. Floss teeth. Brush dog's teeth (for real.) Open bed with a sweep of covers. Get in. Feel sheets warm around me. Turn off light. Goodnight moon. Sleep.

Day 48. Elegant

You know what I find elegant?

Pianos and also the playing of pianos.

The sound that lingers gracefully, long after the key is struck. The attire: bringing to my mind long, luxurious red dresses, a classy tuxedo, a top hat perhaps. (My friend Sarah plays the piano and she looks great in red. The hands: Long and narrow fingers, hands cupped as though they were elegantly holding warm water, upside down. The instrument: Rich materials; Shiny black or soft, carved wood. Silky smooth keys. Strings hidden mysteriously underneath the thing.

You know what's not so elegant? The organ. That's what I played:)

This backyard piano, despite the satellite dish, the greying stucko, and its location of a crummy back lane still manages to maintain its elegance, don't you think?

Day 47. Creepy

Creepiest building in the city, perhaps... at Vaughan and York: the old jail.

Even at high noon and the most sparkly part of the day, this building still makes me shiver a bit.

We explored it at nighttime, and thank goodness, from the outside only! on a ghost tour i got to go on awhile ago. The ghost tour lady suggested that any orbs or discolouration in the picture are especially creepy.

Other things I find creepy:

• Pieces of clothing left haphazardly on the ground without an owner
• Dim stairwells
• The sound of metal clanking
• Cryptic messages on buildings (or anywhere)
• Grey areas (literal and figurative)

Day 46. Comfort

You know what our fabulous city did?

They built the longest naturally freezing skating path in the world!

As in Guinness Book of World Records long!

And then, the project gave $9000 to several teams to build a bunch of little warming huts which they then placed along the river path so skaters/walkers could find some sweet comfort from the cold.

To top it off, they called the warming huts 'love shacks.'

This set of love shacks is called the jellyfish.

Day 45. Old

I like this old building down the street. So does everyone else. It's really cool: brick and a-frame, but like a really wide and lazy a.

There have been renovations happening over the past year or so, but it remains old and crumbly and completely beautiful.

Day 44. Self

Self + teapot.

Inside the teapot was a delicious blend of ginger and licorice tea. It kept me company from the time I woke up (preposterously early at 4:18 am!) 'til the rest of the world began to move and stir and stretch its arms out.

Day 43. Meal

Can you believe that these colours belong to nature?

Like that they just grow like that?!!

Day 42. Blue

I have lived in the cool embrace of the mountains.

I have spent time being nourished and hydrated near the ocean's edge.

Despite the beauty there, my deep longing for the prairie sky never lessened.

Each day I enjoy the expansive feeling of our big, open sky and I feel the equal and opposite sturdy, you-can't-fall-very-far-in-the-prairies-ground underfoot.

There is nothing that looks more like home to me than a big, blue prairie sky.

Day 41. Machine

This machine could be found in the middle of an ode-to-konrad-birthday date yesterday.

It was in the Current Lounge at the Inn at the Forks (which is a delightful place to spend the eve of one's birthday... K's not mine.)

Before the machine came pedicures, cushy robes, jasmine green tea, the brightest & most crisp day, all within the stolen time hours of an afternoon off.

After this picture, martinis, and then sushi followed by a sweet, deep sleep that would end in more stolen time: a Saturday morning off!

The only thing that could have polished the morning off perfectly would have been to have this little machine at home, wafting espresso fragrance all over the place.

Day 40. Holy

Infrequently enough to amaze me each time, I leave work in the evening and turn the corner to the dazzling sight of the church behind my work all lit up from the inside.

A dark back lane + the sound of the monotonous traffic of Osborne Street + a sacred place full of light = beautiful. It seems contradictory, and I have a hard time wrapping my mind around it all at once, but I guess the mind doesn't need to get what's holy and sacred.

Day 39. Industrial

I had to look this word up to see what counted.

You know what 'industry' means?

I guess among other things:

1. Skill or cleverness

2. Earnest, steady effort; constant diligence in or application to work

3. Systematic work; habitual employment

I figured these guys were all of those.

Clever, clever guys, these ones... banding together in revolution (industrial?) around that big white thing.

Earnest and steady... No one is steadier.

Habitual? These guys never miss a day. Slow and steady.

I wonder what's in that big white thing?

Day 38. Angles

Bonnie read this as 'angels' and I like angels at least as much as 'angles', so I'm with her on this one.

Here is a picture of a one-winged angel that sits on my front porch.

She used to have two wings, both made out of repossessed metal, just like the rest of her.

One day, one of the wings fell off with a heavy clank.

On the same day, another angel in my house threw itself off my bedside table, losing one of its wings in the process.

On the same day, an angel my mom had broke a wing too. She glued it back together and at first denied that it had happened.

I'm sure that a triplet of broken angel wings is a sign of some kind. I took it as a gentle hello (because besides the metal one, wings fall so softly), but I'm sure if I was smarter I would have translated it better.

I like this one with one wing.

Like she has temporarily fallen to the earth.

Just like we have.

Day 37. Alone

You know those places where there are people around, but you feel alone, like in the good way?

The bus is like that for me.

I love taking the bus.

It kind of makes me feel like I live in the big city and also like I'm anonymous which I mostly don't want, but it's a nice change.

All these people being alone yet

surrounded by people.

I hope that they are not lonely.

Day 36. Animal

Who knew this character would show up at four year-old niece's birthday party?

Dragons don't like having their picture taken I guess.