Waking up with Friends | Day 23 of 33 Sunrises
How are you this morning? What are you up to this week?
In 2 weeks I will be moving out of my place and leaving for Israel for my sister's wedding. As my to-do list grows it's a nice reprieve to be giving myself this designated quiet time in the morning. It's a waterfall on my parched soul!! Being on day 23 does feel like it's become a habit. The nights I have Emiliana I say before she goes to bed "Where do you want to see the sunrise tomorrow morning?" and sometimes we can go there but mostly it's just knowing that I'm creating these memories with her.
Having friends along is even better. This is my darling friend Kris. I photographed her and Eric's wedding so many years ago and even prior to that photographed for her husband's business, The Peached Tortilla.
Kris has a gentle spirit. Niko is not unlike his mother, a happy little guy. I'm guessing with the number of times I gazed into his deep brown darling eyes and said "I'm going to take you home" and he smiled right back at me that Kris was probably freaked out she would be driving home with an empty car seat. haha But you know. Children are such a blessing. Watching my friends have babies (clearly one of the most difficult things to do in this lifetime) is a beautiful thing too.
So.... not only was my camera being weird this morning but my phone in every single one of my apps wouldn't take a photograph! Ugh. So much disappointment. Thankfully Kris is an amazing photographer and designer in her own right (she photographs for Peached, runs the social media and designed their website! She has SO much talent!) She snapped these.
Thank you lovely Kris and sweet sweet Niko for joining Emiliana and I this morning! A lovely morning indeed!
Waking up Beneath the Bridge at East Blvd | Day 22
Waking up beneath the Bridge at East Blvd | Day 22 of 33 Sunrises
What a noisy morning.
Cars and trucks and birds and runners and talkers. What a difference from Zilker Park.
33 Sunrises x Day 4 | Waking up at the Pennybacker Bridge
I sat on a cliff overlooking the 360 Penny Backer Bridge and hoped to watch the sun rise. Between impending rain and heavy clouds and my facing the west, it didn’t make for much of a colorful sky as much as a great view of the lake. As the sun rose behind my back deep on the other side of the woods, I watched first a motorboat, then jet skis, then a paddle board all float along, far down below. And long after they left my sight the waves of their commotion carried on, lapping on each side of the shore that despite their never touching, felt the gravity of their presence. So it is.
Those waves. My god those waves of what we do or what others do sending repercussions into the world. I always say we are energy and what we do and who we are and what we say affects so much and a dear friend commented “That sounds so new age to me” but it’s not at all, really. It’s practical science. If we emulate what is in nature, and if our bodies are composed of the elements of a replica of the world around us, and if, as they say in Judaism, if we destroy one human being it is as destroying an entire universe, then… … … …
Have you ever stood in the wake of a storm, just to feel the wind blow?
We are seeking energy, whether we call it that or not, it is forward motion. We want to feel something. We climb to the tallest we can to look out on a tiny world below in hopes of feeling small. We grab a bottle of rum, to feel nothing. And nothing my darling, is absolutely something. That is the problem.
I photograph sunrises, I wake up every morning before the sun to remember what being alive feels like. It’s too easy to numb ourselves when we carry the weight of our lives. That’s what caffeine and medicine and prescription drugs and “likes” and “follows” and nightly news and celebrities are for. But what if…
What if instead of adding to these we somehow took them away? What if instead of sitting more hours in front of the television we turned it off? What would we do to fill that time? What would nourish who we are at our core instead of distracting us? What would water the seeds of our dreams instead of desensitize and kill them? Dare we dream again?
The sun rose without my knowing it that morning. But it still rose.
Time marches on whether or not we sew our seeds. I think that is the most daunting of all things to realize. There is only this. There is only now.
And so tomorrow I will watch the sun rise one more time…
33 Sunrises x Day 3 | Waking Up at Jo's on SoCo
Good morning, Darling.
First and foremost, please push play.
"Tell me again how night ends?" asked Little Owl.
"Moon flowers close
And morning glories open" replied Mama Owl.
"Dew drops sparkle and
Spider webs like tiny threads hang down.
The rooster crows.
The crows caw,
And the day begins."
But little owl did not hear,
for he was fast asleep.
[An excerpt from Little Owl's Night, one of Emiliana's favorite books, written by a local author gifted to us by Diana Uribe and one we gift frequently.]
Waking Up at Jo's on SoCo
So this is how it goes. I brush my teeth, eyes still closed. I throw my baseball cap on over my hair. I stumble/race out the door, throwing my closed bag over my shoulder as I barely arrive at SoCo as the sun begins to rise. The cotton candy clouds forming on the horizon make me grateful I'm here, but I'm still barely awake to think straight. I back-in parking (maybe twice because I'm in such a hurry/still asleep), open my camera bag and...
my camera's not there.
This is so typical me. Trying to do anything for 33 days in a row- as the Hebrews would say - hineini, or rather, hineh ani. Here I am. I showed up, be it even without camera in tow, and today, this is enough.
Sitting on South Congress
at 6:33am
to document the sun rise,
but using words
instead of pictures,
iced two shots of espresso
one pump of mocha,
people passing
sun filling my eyes
making a memory
in words
without a lens
but the two gifted me
today.
C'est la vie.
Have a lovely day, my friend.