happiness is a warm taco

My friend Mae took this photo during a moment of our champagne tastes and caviar dreams (I didn't have a picture of me eating a taco).

My friend Mae took this photo during a champagne tastes and caviar dreams moment (I didn’t have a picture of me eating tacos).

The alternative title to this post was “happiness is hugging a warm taco”, but doing so is decidedly messy. Don’t believe me? Try it, then get back to me.

The other day a friend and I went to get tacos at a local Mexican market. It’s no frills and the tacos are soooo good. You walk in, pass the glass case filled with ready-to-go carnitas, salsas, cheese, chicharron, and crema, and head towards the back where you can order your deliciously warm tacos. Did I mention that they are $1.50/each??

When they call out your order for pick up, you can sit down at one of the few tables or hoist yourself up on a bar stool and sit at one of the counters.

I hoisted.

I hugged my taco.

I spoke with my mouth full: “Thi foo make me happy.”

If you’ve made it this far into the post, first of all, thank you from the bottom of my taco-loving heart. Second of all, you might be thinking, “Poor girl, she thinks she’s posting a review on Yelp. tsk tsk.”

Yes, sometimes I get confused and think I’m on Yelp, Match.com or even forget where I am in general, but today, talking about tacos reminds me how something so simple can bring such joy. When everything is so clearly simple and solid and in-the-moment. It doesn’t matter if it’s a taco, a stunning view, or breaking out in uncontrollable laughter with a friend. I’m grateful for any fleeting moment that causes you to connect to yourself and something even beyond that. Something bigger than yourself…that intangible feeling of…love?

I don’t know why my lesson was sent in a taco, but hey, I’ll take it. There’s a reason why I’m always proposing to food. Mr. T and I pity the poor fool I fall in love with: “Marry me or else I’m going to make a taco a very happy husband!!”

Hey, that’s a good title for a Match.com profile…

 

a breath away

low tide

A few nights ago, I held a friend’s two week-old baby girl in my arms.

A few nights ago, my ex’s father passed away.

The fact that life and death is just a breath away from each other does not escape me.

“That nothing is static or fixed, that all is fleeting and impermanent, is the first mark of existence. It is the ordinary state of affairs. Everything is in process. Everything—every tree, every blade of grass, all the animals, insects, human beings, buildings, the animate and the inanimate—is always changing, moment to moment.” ~ Pema Chodron 

“…I now feel more awe and wonder than dread of death, and the knowledge of its inevitability gives me permission to do more and more of what matters, less and less of what doesn’t.” ~ Martha Beck

I’m not there yet. I still dread it. But I’m working on it.

wake up, wake up…the time is now…

 

Art, Thy Name is Phil

art.

I find the word kind of frightening. It’s only three little letters, but I might as well be spelling p-m-s or w-a-r. Okay, I’m being a little dramatic.  About war.

I used to make stained glass and mosaics using glass. I say “used to” because after I moved out of my house, I didn’t have the space (or the will) for it. When I packed all of my glass and equipment, I ended up with over a dozen banker’s boxes, and this was after I had donated about two boxes of glass to a local stained glass store.

Scoring, cutting, and soldering needs a certain kind of space, not to mention using a glass grinder and grouting. But I vowed to get back into it. Someday. At some point. In the future.

The journaling course, “Journal Your Life” run by Susannah Conway reactivated the creative side of my brain and I started to dabble in a bit of watercolor, drawing, poetry, and collage. Mentally, I find that painting and drawing are the most difficult to do – my hands and the paper act as two magnets: attracted, yet repelled. However, this year I’ve been trying to muffle the “YOU SUCK!” voice and have been experimenting with a neutral, objective frame of mind.

One step leads to another. It can lead to discovery – about yourself and the process. It’s very exciting. Cool. Neat. What are the kids saying these days? Are they still saying “da bomb”? How about “fo’ shizzle”? Um, I don’t think I’m using that correctly.

Here is how my one step led to the next:

This is Phil. I wasn't that pleased with how he turned out, but I was just experimenting. I set him aside; I figured he could useful for something later on.

This is Phil. I wasn’t that pleased with how he turned out, but I was simply experimenting. Oh well. I set him aside; I figured he could be useful for something later on.

Here's Phil after some scissoring. He's looking more handsome to me now...

Here’s Phil after some scissoring. He’s looking more handsome to me now…

The new Phil.

The new Phil.

I completed the newly reimagined Phil at 2am this morning. I couldn’t bear to stop and leave him unfinished. I was so happy when I was done; I’m surprised I was able to fall asleep. I’m supposed to go running today, but all I want to do is gaze at Phil. Maybe I’ll make him a sibling…

Phil, experimentation…whatever you want to call it – is so good for the soul. Be it baking/cooking, teaching, writing, exercising, and basically anything you put your heart into, you are expressing your inner self. It’s so satisfying, enlightening, interesting, da bomb. And another fantastic part about it – if you allow it – is that it seats you in the center of the moment, yet you’re moving at the same time. There’s so much beauty right there, right now.

Now that’s what I call ART.