bittersweet ending

i made a short journey yesterday in a truck. it's the last journey that "my" lego ship will ever make. after three long years, thousands of kilometers traveled on the wheels of the curtain-side trailer beneath her, she's going to be dismantled, her bricks going to a good cause. when she wasn't being pulled by a truck, she traveled by ferry and rail. she visited the far corners of europe, from istanbul and italy in the south, to estonia, latvia and lithuania in the east to norway in the north. she was seen by crowds of people on trafalgar square in london, in front of the european parliament in brussels and near the brandenburg gate in berlin. and i was with her pretty much the whole way. probably the crowd i remember best was on a glorious, sunny autumn day in klaipeda - there were balloons, music playing and children looking on in wonder. that was just over three years ago.

but even as i write this, she's being broken down. i don't have the heart to go down and witness it. the fans at the lego fan weekend in the little town of skærbæk will have the chance to buy her bricks that aren't glued, by the kilo, and some of the cars and one of the lifeboats will be auctioned for a good cause - fairy bricks - an organization that gives lego sets to children who are hospitalized. the bricks that are glued, which is about half of them, will be recycled by lego themselves, and turned back into lego bricks that will go into sets and have a new life with children all over the world. that makes me happy.

this is probably the project i'm most proud to have been part of in my working life. the seed of the idea was one i presented in my job interview and it became so much more in collaboration with the ideas of the amazing creative people i worked with. and it was such a privilege to see it come to fruition beyond my wildest dreams. so i feel sad that it's really truly over now, but so happy that the ending is such a worthy one that will bring joy to so many, who may not even know the source of the joy, but who will undoubtedly feel it. goodbye, jubilee, you were amazing.

making my way through the fog

we have the most beautiful, long, strangely warmish autumn this year. since my dear bloggy and real life friend, cyndy, died, i've found myself consciously paying more attention to the beauty of the world around me and stopping to appreciate it. i've been pulling the car over and carrying a real camera with me again, rather than only relying on my iPhone (tho' that camera is pretty good these days).  the other day, the camera actually had a hard time finding focus in the fog, but i liked the shot anyway. it kind of conveys my life of late - the path ahead is a bit foggy and uncertain. things are a bit in turmoil at work, with multiple reorgs over the past year that have bounced our department all over the organisation, landing it finally in a strange place where it doesn't really fit. it's draining. i'm a person who can tolerate a high level of uncertainty, but being tossed all over the organization and not really feeling as if all the work you do is particularly appreciated takes its toll after more than a year. so, i've been feeling a bit like i'm not sure what's next. do you wait for things to get better or do you seize other opportunities? i'm doing a little bit of both at the moment. the actual work i do is wonderful and engaging and i get to work with some amazing photographers and filmmakers and tell great stories and that's been keeping me going. i've also been seizing every opportunity i can of late to travel and it helps to be away from the cramped, dark space we've been been banished to in another building since just after the summer holiday. i've really come to realize how important your workspace is to your satisfaction at work. and how important it is to have enough space around you and not feel like the desks are all crammed together. we've very crowded now and when people are on the phone, it's completely impossible to get any work done. i find myself dreading going to the office these days and i never felt that way before. your surroundings just matter so much. and so, i travel all i can. this week, it's berlin and istanbul. and i can't wait!

the end of an era

today was a fateful day. mom failed the test to keep her driver's license. and she failed it with flying colors. it's the end of an era for her. she's been driving for a good 60 years. and what a change it will be. to be able to get into the car and go somewhere has been the hallmark of her life. once upon a time, she picked up and drove herself to a new job and a new life in the black hills, moving away from her mother, her home and her job in sioux falls for the first time. on another occasion, she drove herself to a new life together with my father when he bought a little weekly newspaper in his hometown. and from there, whenever she needed to get away, she got in her car. she drove us countless miles to horse shows and a couple of times to visit her sister in oregon. she was fearless at the wheel, if distracted, the dashboard covered in glasses cases, kleenex and donut crumbs. when my sister and i fought, she stuck my sister over to her left on the broad bench seat of the old brown pickup and separated us. seat belts be damned. those were the times. and it ended ok.

she must feel devastated. i can't even imagine. even she, from within her fog, must know that that is significant. for the first time in this experience, i feel genuine sorrow for her. this changes everything. she can no longer escape. and neither can we.

paranoia and pistols

i try to call mom and she doesn't answer the phone. i guess she's still mad at me for supposedly taking her glasses (which were found, there in her house). i also apparently took that big picture of dad that she puts in the chair with a stuffed cat and a blanket and talks to. but that too was found on her dining table. and does she express remorse for her accusations? apparently not, she experiences only the immediate joy of being reunited with her precious possessions.

was this paranoia and thinking the worst of others always there in my mother or is it the disease? and why me? because i was the last one there, visiting her? perhaps she associates me with the glasses because i was the one who found them for her, stuffed into a paper bag in their cases, just before i left, so i was imprinted on her mind along with them. or maybe, all of the furniture from her basement that has peopled my various apartments and which was freely and generously given by her, has imprinted me on her brain as the one who comes and takes things away. maybe this is why she can hurl wild accusations of her thieving daughter around. and i can't say that they don't hurt, even while i know they're not true. who is this person and who does she think i am?

it's this paranoia and thinking the worst of people that made me worry about all the guns in that house. her expired permit to carry a concealed weapon (incidentally not a photo id) was on the table in the living room, but that didn't stop her from loading two heavy bowling ball-sized bags full of guns and ammo into her car the other day (turns out she had a new permit there among her stacks of mail). i don't know what she was planning to do with them, but i had visions of her shooting her  beautiful granddaughter in a haze of paranoia one day. and it takes my breath away to even write that. that said, i have also laughed hysterically over my pistol-pakkin' mama. if you're not laughing, you're crying with this disease.

the guns are packed safely away now, so the horror scenario that flashed across my mind isn't going to happen. but undoubtedly many others will with this cruel disease. i have to grow a thicker skin.

i don't know what i expected

my, what a couple of weeks it has been. fevers, coughing, snowy nights in a hot tub out on a deck in the black hills, presents, cooking, food, games, skiing, snowboarding, a broken wrist, an infected jaw that's been building for some time (since a couple of weeks before the november 8 election debacle), two miserable flights in acute pain, lack of sleep, kindness, laughter, and sorrow. the whole gamut of emotions. and i am wrung out. it's somehow fitting that it all ended in a raging, painful infection in my jaw. i've always held my stress in my jaws, grinding my teeth at night. old habits die hard.

i don't know what i expected. i was apprehensive before we left, knowing that it was likely the last christmas where mom would remember us. but i had no idea how advanced it had become. the repetition of stories, i could handle and even enjoy to a degree, impressed at what she remembered (she remembers leaving us there by the side of the road near wasta and even remembered (which i didn't) that she needed water for an over-heated radiator). the constant asking where we were going and what we were doing next, just after we had explained it was slightly more exasperating. but, i could understand that this was how her mind now works.

and then there were the moments of spiteful anger that came seemingly from nowhere. so much venom over insignificant things - mostly in the form of harsh judgements in the retelling of events. either traditional views on the role of women and men rearing their head, or just plain judgemental nastiness. that was hard.

i keep wanting to write "but most distressing was..." and then thinking that the thing i'm going to write isn't the worst thing. but it was very distressing that when we gently tried to speak with her about how she probably shouldn't be driving anymore or that she doesn't need three vehicles, or that the big house might be too much for her (she has every surface covered in junk mail, so there is nowhere to sit or have a cup of tea and we couldn't stay there, tho' we did try one night), she steadfastly refused to admit or recognize that she even has a problem. this may be a symptom of the disease, but it also may be who she is.

but what might be the most distressing are the lies she tells. she forgot the christmas presents she had bought for all of us (matching slippers for 8), when we went to the cabin and every day the story changed as to where they were. sometimes it was our fault because we didn't take the vehicle she had loaded them into, expecting we'd take it. when we got home, they were right there on the couch, where they'd been, she'd never loaded them at all. she also took back her sewing machine, which had been lent to the child, taking it when no one was home. she venomously spat at me, when i asked her about it, that she had needed to use it herself. this despite the fact that she had left the cord behind and couldn't have plugged it in. i never did find it in her house, so i'm not sure where it is.

she was stopped by the police yesterday, 45 miles from home, driving 25 with the windows open (despite it being bitterly cold) and with the dome light on. wearing slippers. it's unclear whether they took her license or recommended that she be evaluated (i'm not clear on the procedure, but it's clear that we need to take those three cars away from her. pronto. apparently, this morning's lie is that she had to go to on a trip on such a cold day because i took all of her glasses with me when i left. the truth of that one is that we spent half an hour helping her find them on the day before we left and when i last saw her, she was sitting in my dad's chair, opening all of the glasses cases and burbling happily over her collection. it was a strange goodbye.

i'll allow that maybe they're not lies - they're the gossamer holding her thoughts together.  so perhaps they shouldn't upset me. but right now they do. it's a bit like this disease has amplified all of her worst traits - the solipsism, the selfishness, the lack of caring one iota about her grandchildren (which has always been a source of pain). they are all dialed up to full volume, replacing all of the things i loved about my mom - her willingness to drop everything and go off and have fun, to try new things, to buy a lot of tricked-out gear for a hobby and jump wholeheartedly into it. her enjoyment of good food. on christmas, when asked if she wanted to come and have some dinner, she said, "that depends on what it is," after i had worked all day, cooking the most beautiful beef wellington i've ever prepared. that day ended in a flood tears for me. it was all too much. and while i logically know that it's the disease and not my mother, it's very hard to separate and hard not to be hurt.

it is a crazy hurtful disease and it's only the beginning for us. i haven't even come close to getting a handle on how i feel about it.

note: i'm choosing to share the journey we've only just begun with alzheimer's here on my blog, as honestly as i can, because of one of the things i read was what we must speak it out loud. but also because this blog has always been where i work out what i think and feel and i've encountered no bigger topic where i have need for that. i by no means want to hang my mother out to dry and i realize i'm walking a fine line in that, but i know i'm not the first person to go through this and i hope that my journey can spark a positive conversation on a difficult topic. that said, i am no expert and have only just begun to read about the disease, trying to learn more. all opinions and thoughts on the disease are my own and from my own very limited experience. if you have any thoughts/readings/resources/experiences to share, please share them. this is all very raw and new for me and i want to grow in understanding and compassion.

looking for magic

i find myself thinking about everyday magic. mostly because there have been a couple of times this week when i really needed some and i wasn't very good at finding it. and i'll admit that i find it to be almost completely lacking at the office (tho' the special café in the canteen makes a very nice day-brightening latté that might almost qualify). but if you remember to look for the small moments of magic, they actually are there. a laugh shared with a colleague, a very good discussion that really puts you in flow, little nigglings of intuition that you just can't explain, a frivolous conversation about the superiority of mac (cosmetics, not computers, tho' those are also superior) paint pots and pigments.

it's much easier to find magic around home. especially if the sun should happen to shine as it did quite a lot this week. i find it's really easy to find magic in the sunshine. and i think i'm so much more aware of that now that i constantly think in the photographic potential of everything.

then there are unexpected things that happen that remind you of the path you may have lost sight of...and you come into a loom that you can have for free. and tho' you already have one, two seems even better. more magical, if you will. and you sort of want to fast forward to the time when the new blue room will be finished upstairs and you'll have space for those two looms to be set up. but then you remember that the everyday magic is found in the here and now and in the enjoying of the journey along the way. time goes fast enough as it is without wishing it to go faster.

so you think about paying attention so you don't miss any of the magic of the next couple of weeks - of time to be spent with new friends who feel like old friends (but are also technically new friends since you've never met in person), with old friends who feel like your favorite pair of jeans, to literally old friends who you hope you are like when you yourself are old, and to time spent with family - laughing and teasing and being silly.

i'll be checking in when i can, but mostly, i'll probably just be out there, picking up pieces of magic (and undoubtedly photographing them) to share when i get back.

daily art journal: march

this month, the details are on flickr, so click each picture below if you want to know more.

1. daily art journal for march, 2. march 1-2, 3. curiosity bird detail, 4. march 3-4, 5. march 5-6, 6. march 7-8, 7. march 9-10, 8. march 11-12, 9. march 13-14, 10. march 15-16, 11. march 17-18, 12. march 19-20, 13. march 21-22, 14. detail - march 22, 15. march 23-24, 16. march 25-26, 17. march 27-28, 18. march 29-30, 19. march 31, 20. daily art journal for march

i'll admit the project grew more difficult in march and i fell behind, sometimes by a week at a time. i could definitely feel the effects of house- and job-hunting this month. it ended up both good and bad. good in that i had room for more two-page spreads, which i felt gave me greater flexibility on some of the pieces and some of the thinking it helped me do. bad in that i didn't get the daily creative practice that i embarked on this project to have. but april is a another month and i'm back on track. well. almost anyway. but i blame husband because he said yesterday was only the 2nd and it was actually the 3rd.

recurring themes - maps and eyes continue to crop up again and again. i'm beginning to see that come out when i look back at previous months. in any case, it's an interesting project and i'm starting to see a glimmer of where it's taking me.

looks like we made it

i'll admit it was touch and go for a little bit there in amsterdam. nerves were wearing thin after 10 days of non-stop togetherness and 12 hours cramped together on the plane. there was a bit of snapping. and husband showed himself to be rather prissily annoyingly danish rule-oriented and admonished me for taking the next picture, snarking, "you know it's illegal to take photographs in an airport," in a neah-neah-i-hope-they-haul-you-away-and-we-never-see-you-again voice.

but i think it turned out pretty well, despite what he said. morning sunshine on a shiny, clean plane that's just waiting to take you home is a lovely sight indeed.

then just to be defiant of husband and his grown-up rules and stuff, i took this shot of the pilot's feet as he went by.

and nobody said a word to me about taking pictures. legal or not. so neah-neah yourself, husband. yup, i can be very mature.

then we got home at last and the day is completely glorious and the garden is beautiful (if fading a little, with hints of autumn here and there) and that (and a shower) made things better. as did hanging out in the garden with a book, relaxing and getting acquainted with little guys like this one...i think he's a moth, not a butterfly, but he's pretty anyway.

and soon, there will be cold white wine and charcoals starting up and yummy tarragon mustard potato salad and grilled ribs. and all that long journey will prove to have been worth it if only because it makes us appreciate home.

will be back soon with many of the impressions and stories i've been collecting over the past week or so...in the meantime, happy weekend!

EDIT: i have since looked into the question of legality of taking photos in airports...it seems that it varies by airport and some (like AMS) actually have areas where they allow/encourage it. however, where they generally don't encourage it is at security, so do be careful when photographing in airports! the photos i took were probably quite ok, since there's no security facilities in sight, tho' they might have objected to the detail of the activity around the plane itself in the shot of the plane being loaded at the gate.

sights and well, sights...

several things about the journey. long layover in amsterdam due to optimization of ticket prices. happily, we decided to take the train to amsterdam and walk around. it was a beautiful day and that was wonderful. and no doubt fortified us for the horrendously long flight ahead. because it is a horrendously long flight. and there is a world of difference between monkey and business class (which i will regale you with tales of another day, when i don't have to get up early and fly to kuala lumpur for the day). in the meantime, here are some snapshots of the journey thus far...

totally adore these retro-painted SAS planes. SAS has class. too bad we flew KLM.

love those silver converse all-stars

mmm, frozen hazelnut coffee in (you guessed it) amsterdam

and little pancakes with lovely, tart lemony sauce.

worth the 7-hour layover alone.

playing drawing games in the sunshine.

an interminably long time later, cut to a japanese restaurant at clark quay, singapore

a fountain to play in and keep the sleepies at bay.
crocs are good for something, they can be wet.

and a couple of martinis for the folks.

plus a shirley temple for the pooka.

yes, that's outdoor air conditioning. indefensible.

sneaked a self-portrait in the fitting room of miss whatever while sabin tried on a dress.

gee, i don't look tired at all, do i?

keeping the jetlag at bay with a grande latte.

sorry, i just gotta do starbucks when i see it.

i adore this system of wooden clothespins used by the waitresses
at bi feng tang in the wisma food court.

also adore the sambal kung kang, but failed to photograph it.

will have to go back.

seen in the window of some telecom provider.

loved it.

and it seems like a good note to leave on...

see you soon...

p.s. blogger cutting off the right edge of my photos strangely and i don't have the energy to figure out why, so just know that i'm aware they're kinda cut off, but the originals aren't...i promise to fix it later.