planting (dream) seeds

Dream Seed

I have a number of friends traveling this week: one headed to Costa Rica, a second headed to Spain, and three dear ladies in Paris. I am sitting on my ass on a meditation cushion in Manhattan as my passport gathers dust. Don’t feel sorry for me. Okay, maybe feel sorry for me a bit. Saying no to “Is there no chance in hell you could come to Paris Feb. 4 - 8?” when I have frequent flier miles was kinda hard to do. 

If I’ve been focusing on budgets and such lately, it is not without reason. Things have been a little tight over here. If you’re a creative person with any intention at all of putting the fruits of your creativity out into the world, there are some start-up costs to be had. And if you’ve been pursuing the arts for a while, chances are you’ve managed to accrue some semblance of debt. So what I’ve been doing is paying myself forward…and finally, responsibly, paying myself backwards. And looking backwards at my finances is not unlike looking at a small town after it has been decimated by a tornado. The long and short of it: clean-up has begun, and there hasn’t been a lot of extra money in the budget for fun, much less travel, so apologies if anyone’s wondering where the heck I’ve been. 

In the interest of not becoming a complete shut-in, I’ve recently reinstituted the weekly practice of an artist’s date. If you’re familiar with The Artists’ Way and the work of Julia Cameron, the idea will be familiar to you. In a nutshell, what you do is you take yourself - just you, no friends, no significant others, just you and your happy self - for a small adventure. The goal is to treat yourself and your interests as if these things are a priority...because, you know, they should be.

The “date” can be simple or grandiose, expensive or free. Maybe you take yourself to the library and check out a book on ancient Mesopotamia, just for fun. You could go to the museum to see the dinosaurs, or drop into a knitting class for beginners, or go to a movie that you really want to see by yourself, or pick up an adult coloring book and some colored pencils, or check out a gallery reception and enjoy some free wine and cheese with your outsider art. It’s about making time for yourself. It’s about filling the well. 

My buddy Lisa - one of the aforementioned ladies in Paris - reached out to me before hopping on a plane bound for CDG this week, and asked if I’d like her ticket to an event at a yoga studio on 13th Street. I hate to see a ticket for any cultural event go to waste, so I said yes. This is how I found myself flat on my back, getting saged-and-feathered, at a shamanic sound-bath experience at The Integral Yoga Institute. 

The ritual in question was performed by Dream Seed of the Golden Drum community based in Brooklyn. Dream Seed is a loosely-formed band of students and musicians studying with an elder of the Taino tradition across the bridge - who knew. In a spoken introduction beforehand, one of the students performing made the point that, very often, people use music as an escape. He invited the participants to work with the music internally, as certain sounds and vibrations might stir up or activate some latent energy within us. At any rate, after 90-or-so minutes of experiencing wave after wave of live musical improvisation on instruments from all over the world, I stumbled out onto the sidewalk and into the night, relaxed and reeking of incense.

You can check out some sound samples of Dream Seed’s work here. My recommendation: close the bedroom door, light a candle or fire-up some incense, kill the lights, cue up some sounds, and treat yourself to a 20-minute savasana. It may not quite be Paris, but you can still tell yourself you’re at a hookah bar in Montparnasse.

Misty Copeland's breaking ground

I know Misty Copeland has been getting a lot of press lately for her recent (well-deserved) promotion to American Ballet Theatre.  That's a big deal, a huge deal, but it's not what I'm going to talk about here. What I'm currently clasping my hands in delight over is the fact that Copeland is making her Broadway debut and performing in ON THE TOWN at the Lyric Theater.

It makes sense, really. ON THE TOWN is dance (indeed, ballet) heavy for a musical, and she's a delightful choice for the part. To be fair, she's not really a singer. But does she really need to do everything when she does what she does so very well? (For that matter, do any of us? Could we all just own what we're really good at, and be enough for once?)

But the truly magical thing for me here is that, as an artist, she has bravely thrown herself headlong into a milieu that is not her forte. She didn't say, "Eh, you know what, I'm not really a trained singer. I don't know if I can pull off a Broadway musical. I think I'll pass." What she said, and what she's saying every night that she's out there on that stage, is Yes; let's do this. She's knocking the ball out of the park for what she's there to do, widening her creative reach, and allowing herself to play.

Here's to all of us doing a little more of that.

filling the well, or the sweet side of introversion

French Toast English Muffins with Cinnamon
Marmalade Ricotta

There was an article that popped up on Huffington Post not too long ago on 10 Ways Introverts Interact Differently with the World, and in reading it, I felt very much as if someone had been watching me as a test subject. I realize that handing out hard copies of the article before social functions might not be a great idea, so check out the link above. In any regard, it's a good primer.

The biggest take away from it for me - aside from the fact that, yes, I hate the phone, do well in a performance capacity but not so great at the after party, am generally rotten at small talk, and need to run like hell from full rooms of people after a certain amount of time - no matter how much I may love those people in that room -  is exactly how much downtime I require between periods of prolonged creativity to refill the proverbial well.

You know the question: What are you working on right now?  I told a good friend of mine earlier this week, I'm washing my socks and organizing my spice rack, and that's about as far as I can think as my creative stores replete themselves. Projects are going to start taking off in March, and I'll get into that soon. In the meantime, I'm generally nesting in my apartment as much as I am able, before I get too busy and it gets too hot to even bear turning on the oven.

I've been trying to make sure that I have (as close to) one full day at home a week to recharge. Sweats get pulled on, candles get lit, music gets played, the bathroom gets cleaned, soup gets made, tea gets brewed. And in the case of this morning, there is Sunday breakfast. And I say that with no regrets, because I've been kicking my ass at the gym four times a week (I'll tell you about that later). I may be working on getting back into fighting shape, but a girl still has to eat.

French Toast English Muffins with Cinnamon Marmalade Ricotta 

one serving - double as necessary

1 English muffin, split in half (gluten-free, as necessary)

1 egg, beaten

1/4 cup milk
1/4 tsp vanilla

pinch cinnamon
1 tbsp butter

1/3 cup ricotta cheese

1 tbsp orange marmalade (extra points if it has fresh ginger)
another pinch cinnamon

maple syrup (the real deal)

Take your English muffin halves and prick both sides in several places with the tines of a fork, so that liquid will be able to soak into the bread a bit easier. Combine egg, milk, vanilla and cinnamon in a shallow dish that will also fit both halves of your English muffin, cut side down, and nestle your muffin halves down into the liquid. After about a minute, turn your muffin halves over in the egg mixture. You want as much of that liquid to be absorbed into the English muffin halves as possible without them totally disintegrating.

In a separate bowl, combine ricotta cheese with marmalade and cinnamon, and stir well. Set aside.

In a griddle or large, flat-bottomed skillet, heat about 1 tbsp of butter over medium heat till it melts and starts to bubble, coating the bottom of the pan, and add your two English muffin halves to the pan to brown to golden. After a couple of minutes, flip the muffin halves over with a spatula and brown the other sides. Transfer to a plate.  Serve with cinnamon marmalade ricotta and real maple syrup.