in the company of women

i have, over the past year, found a really awesome group of women friends to hang out with. one of them was able to borrow her sister's summer house near the west coast this past weekend and we spent a truly blissful 24 hours there together.

earlier in the week, we had been to a salon evening, where we got these red yarn bracelets, which we were to wear for three days with the purpose of looking at it and meditating on all of the happiness and good luck we would have in the new year. we decided already then to take them with us to the beach and release them into the north sea, in a kind of ceremony.

so we each took off our bracelet and released it into the sea in our own fashion. but it felt powerful as we stood there together, giving the little bit of yarn a last moment of silent, individual good intentions for 2014, before sending it out into the waves to be free.

then we wandered down the rock-strewn beach. so funny that just a few weeks ago, there were a few shells on the beach, but no stones at all and now it's covered with stones. (tho' i will grant that this is a different beach, a bit farther north).

we found a small beach ball in the waves and kicked it around a bit. this despite being five grown women. our little groups formed and reformed as we all walked and talked and enjoyed being together in a setting apart from our everyday.

after our trip to the beach, we retired back to the warm summer house, where a fire was soon burning merrily in the wood-burning stove. we got out our art supplies and began both the drink and the draw phase of the weekend. i made a gin cocktail (of course), using homemade pear-ginger cordial as a base. we each brought something to share (both wine and food).

we ate a tuna mousse with some very good bread, followed by a gorgeous fish soup and then my chocolate pots with salted caramel in the bottom for dessert. all along, there was wine. late in the evening, after the crochet lessons (i really learned how to make a granny square this time!), we turned to pomegranate gajol and a smoky laphroaig whiskey that i brought along. happily, lots of laughter and water in between kept it from going totally wrong the next day.

we don't really have any rules for drink and draw, but we did decide that we all had to draw the little silvery fish we saw on the beach in some form or another. other than that, we all indulged in whatever we wanted to. several of us are using an old book as the base, humument style. we had quite some fun reading from one of the books, which had a lot of illustrations as well. old books provide a surprising base for creativity. my own is called talismanen (the talismen) and tho' it's about knights and such, there are meaningful words on every page if you select carefully.

there was much laughter and sharing and deep, serious conversations as well. it all felt very, very good for the soul. i don't know what it is, but as i grow older, i find that more and more i crave hanging out with women friends. our spouses and families weren't far from our thoughts or our conversation, but it was good to just be together, eating, drinking and drawing and even singing. and crocheting. just the girls.

scenes from a weekend on the west coast of denmark

i went away for a weekend drink & draw with my posse of amazing women who make me laugh. we borrowed a wonderful summer house and stayed up very late learning to crochet, talking, laughing and drinking a bit too much wine, gajol (a licorice-flavored tipple), laphroaig and gin cocktails. we also ate some amazing food. but i'm pretty exhausted, so i'll have to tell you all about it soon. these photos of our walk down to the beach, where the north sea was crashing to shore with strangely yellowish-brown rather angry-looking waves, will have to suffice for now. and i totally want that little steep-roofed magical fairytale house in the last photo, don't you? it was quite amazing, coming up over the dunes to see it. kind of like stumbling onto how i imagined denmark would look in reality, after all these years.

here's hoping your weekend was amazing too.

detritus on the beach as a metaphor for life

we always try to take a walk on the beach at the end of the year.

something about the bracing winds coming off the north sea have a clearing effect on the mind and the senses.

recent storms made the beach different. covered in bits of detritus and debris, but no stones.

nature has a way of arranging these things, even bits of string and trash and shell and bone, more artfully than we humans ever could.

i took that heart-shaped bit of wood with me. in lieu of stones, it was the best i could do and i had to have some memento of the trip.

the wind was cold and strong and we didn't stay long, just long enough for it to blow any residual troubles and cares out of our heads.

the bits and pieces of the year, floating in, like so much flotsam and jetsam. quite literally.

the last, remaining carcasses of 2013, left strewn on the beach. undoubtedly to be washed away by the next tides.

leaving us a fresh, clean slate from which to start 2014.

and begin it all over again, gathering the bits and pieces that form our memories and our lives.

tangling it all up, mixing it together, and hopefully leaving something beautiful behind.

here one moment, gone the next

taking lessons from the sea

the wind and the waves on the west coast of denmark have such a calming effect. when i was there on sunday, after the course, i didn't really need relaxing and to have my head cleared, but after a really bad night's sleep and another encounter with xenophobia, sexism, racism and bullying, which the culture house meetings have become, i could definitely use some of that pounding surf right now.

i try to replace the hurt feelings, which completely zap all of the good energy out of me with loving, comforting thoughts. but, like this heart in the expanse of sand, those thoughts shiver there, all alone.

and then, right there on the beach is a big, ugly cement bunker, which feels like it's lashed around my neck and i'm dragging it along, and it's filled with all of the bad karma of the xenophobia, sexism, racism and bullying (fascism?). and even tho' someone has written kærlighed (love) on the side of it, it's still an eyesore.

but i can shift it over to the side of my vision and take in the sand and the wind and the waves and the cold, cleansing air. and they wash over me and i can breathe again.

but there is still a big knot of unresolved tensions and hard feelings and well, xenophobia, sexism, racism, bullying and exclusion. and they're piled there, seemingly impossible to untangle.

so i turn once again to the clear expanse of sand and sea and wind and winter sunshine. and let the cold freeze it all away, replacing it with calm, an inner rhythm that matches the waves as they relentlessly continue to wash ashore, not letting anything stand in their way. and i choose to take my lesson from that.

the prairie girl likes the beach

nothing can relax you like an afternoon at the beach. tho' we didn't expect sunshine (it was raining at home. the kind of rain that makes you think of building an ark.), we were pleasantly surprised. tho' my attire was honestly more temperature-appropriate than the girls'. they're little vikings, i guess and didn't freeze.

but nothing takes your cares away like a couple of hours of the wind on your skin and the sound of the waves. beaches are a very good thing. i am fortified for the week ahead.

birds of a feather

i sometimes long for the days of intellectual salons, which is a little bit weird, because i don't think they've really happened within my lifetime.  but you know the kind -  where smart people dropped by to discuss the issues of the day and the things that were in the air (and possibly had a side conversation or two about swearing infixes - you know, like un-fucking-believable) . they discussed and possibly caused the movements - in art, in politics. and they smoked and drank cocktails and planned intrigues and probably went home and made paintings featuring stark black squares.

instead, i do daily battle with the well-intentioned but lesser gifted (that sounds so much better in danish - mindrebegavet), the rumor-mongers and those who are decidedly shy of conflict.

i sometimes long for a literary/political salon so much it aches. and i wish we still lived in such times. i wonder if it's possible to make it happen again?

how does one get birds of a feather to flock together?

lovely shining monday

we took a little family outing to the west coast today. as we drew nearer, the sun came out and since it was about 10°C (or 50°F), it was downright balmy, despite the strong winds blowing in off the north sea.

 and the light. oh, the light.

an afternoon of sea and sand and wind and golden light has completely realigned my very soul.

i am definitely ready for the new year now! bring it on!