End as I began

My very first post on February 1, 2012 was a reminder to myself to greet each day with renewed gratitude and wonderment so I thought it appropriate to end my year with that same intention using my same inspiration.

Today's wisdom

I wanna learn how...

...to do mosaic work.  

There.  

I've admitted it.

Trash to Treasure

One man's discarded pillow becomes man's best friend's new bed. A dog who knows the meaning of reuse.

cat on the sill

Milo taking in some sun on the window sill.

On a day like today

Saturday morning

Is there a theme to this?

One thing that links all of these images together?

Emptiness.  And full.

Bridge Beams

Discarded

A Christmas tree lays on the sidewalk at the curb

awaiting the garbage truck.

Has it really fulfilled its purpose?

Madi

Not only a palindrome...

it also reads the same UPSIDE DOWN!

(subway station mosaic, 181st.)

Sector 9

When it's time to change...

This was in the men's locker room of a NYC dance studio space

See?  

Dad's change diapers, too.

Street Lights Because We Don't Have Stars

Merritt

Tessa + Rowan

Point of view

This photo was taken thru the safety mesh

while walking across the Broadway Bridge

above the Harlem River

The framing of the building in the distance was a pure accident

Cool

Warm for the winter

some of the plants from outside the building 

have been taken INSIDE for the winter

it's nice to be warm

Penny the Practically Perfect Poodle

So, I still don't have my camera; I am having withdrawals and although this photo isn't within the "criteria" of the blog and it also wasn't taken today, I just wanted to record my practically perfect poodle, Penny's, 15th birthday; it isn't everyday you celebrate turning 105 years old!

Stylish Safety

Open Door

For the first time in 27 years, our pantry has a door. But I've found that, more often than not, I leave the door open, anyway.

Steam pipe against the night sky

Fall in Winter

In Los Angeles, we don't have many trees that turn those luscious fall colors. But the few that do, tend to last well into winter.

January Rose Bush

In January, the roses are all cut back so severely. I always feel so sorry for the little bushes. Here's a gardener who couldn't quite do it.

A zillion pillows

I have been battling insomnia lately.

Yesterday we were out and about and I saw this display made from pillows.

It caught my eye.

I stopped and stared.  And took a photo.

I guess my subconscious was telling me something.

zzzzzzz

Well Weho

I love this so much.
I imagine two people walking along. One says to the other, "Well, Weho, the way I see it, it doesn't matter much which way we go, as long as it's in a straight line."

Better than the Zoo

Impermanence

Normal Life Returns

All the frantic activity of the holidays is over, but life doesn't return to normal (work, school, etc.) for another few days. I find myself looking for excuses to pick up my keys and get out of the house, do something normal. But that life doesn't hold quite the same interest for me . . . yet.

My first set of Copic markers

Right on.

Bags

I've lost count on how many bags I've sewn since Christmas, but I'm happy to report that I have emptied a drawer of fabric, and used up several rolls of ribbon and old spools of thread.

Magic Tree Skirt

For more than 20 years, I've had an ancient tree skirt, ripped in several places. I could never make myself get rid of it. My mother had made it, long ago, and I remember it being under our tree when I was little. I also remember painting pillow cases and other scraps of cloth with my mother and these "liquid embroidery" paints.

This year I cut it up. I put the pieces of scenes in little frames - gifts for my siblings and our children who are old enough to remember their Nana.

Today I am putting away the Christmas decorations. This piece that I had saved for myself sat on the piano (my mother's piano). It sparkled at me. What? I had never noticed any sparkles on the tree skirt before. It looked as if it had started to snow on the scene.

I stood there, a stuffed Santa decoration in my hands, and rocked slowly back and forth, to see if those sparkles were real. It was a sort of magical moment. Until I realized that the backing on the inexpensive frame had tiny holes, letting pin points of light shine through. But even so, with the magic gone, I walked around the house, holding it up to the morning light, smiling at myself and the snowflakes falling on a minature house.

Winter Figs

Our fig tree seems confused. The fruit usually comes in very late spring. This winter, all the leaves have dropped, but each branch has sprouted a little fig struggling through the cold weather.

Getting rooted in the New Year

I remember reading about/hearing about a tradition that went something like this:

Whatever you do on the first day of the year

will help to establish what your coming year will be like.

So after waking up this morning, the first day of 2013,

I sat down at my desk and wrote.  And tangled.  And read.

And drank coffee.

If there's any truth to that tradition/superstition,

It's gonna be pretty good year.