Unfortunately for my readers, I did not bring a means to upload my stream of photos – neither computer nor card reader.  So, if you are reading this, you will just have to be patient and wait to see them until I get back home next week.  I promise to then upload and edit the whole lot to post in one final Boston entry for any viewing pleasure.  But for now… a picture I took offline of a cute furniture store a block up from where I’m staying that I’m going to visit today.  On to writing…

Yesterday morning I woke at 7:30 to the warm and dry African air… in Streamwood, IL.  Today I awoke to the somewhat cooler, dry air and traffic/construction commotion of the Dominican Republic… in Boston.  It seems I am confused.  So, for the sake of my sanity and well-being I’m going to put myself, along with you, over a review of the simple facts of my learning/travels so far.

Lesson one:  Chicagoland looked super ugly from my airplane window.  All I could see were huge niches of neighborhoods that had row upon row of perfectly spaced houses that looked exactly the same; OR the huge, flat tops of what I can only guess to be warehouse buildings like Walmart or Target; OR the bumper to bumper traffic on the entire mass of roadways.  As I looked out my window at the monstrosity below I came to an instant conclusion that if/when Josh and I buy a house, we will not be buying it in a mess of commotion like that.  No, we will search for our house outside the suburban radius of Chicagoland in hopes of a rural community where the natural beauty is not just the tree in the front yard.

Lesson two:  Nick says “Love is what makes art; therefore everything in life can and will be art if you love it (whether that be painting, chemistry, or relationships.”  Ok so that’s not exactly a quote but I reiterated the gist of the conversation with one sentence in the best way I could.  But now I am thinking I ought to put that in practice.  Sure, I am an artist by trade and practice, and I incorporate that field into every area of my life, it seems, except for in relationships.  So what does it mean to make one’s relationships an art?  Well I think I am going to give it a try.

Lesson three:  Boston people really are reserved.  Do not say hello or wave to everyone, let alone anyone, when you go for a run or a walk… basically whenever you encounter people.  And I have yet to hear the legitimate Boston accent because there are so many students and different ethnic people here it seems the blue collar, heavy Boston accents are harder to come by than I thought.

Lesson four:  I ran on the path that the Minute Men took back in the day.  Pretty neat.

One more note for the day:  Dear husband, you are the love of my life and my best friend in the whole wide world, I love you and miss you dearly.  This is one of those moments I would love to shout it from the top of a building or something, but I think I would die of dirty looks so I’ll settle for this next best thing, my blog.

http://maps.google.com/maps?saddr=Chicago+O%27Hare+International+Airport,+Chicago,+IL&daddr=boston+logan+airport&hl=en&ll=42.065607,-79.453125&spn=14.701907,30.146484&sll=41.97621,-87.903328&sspn=0.057555,0.11776&geocode=FZiBgAIdsbPC-iGjDSqESTtTiA%3BFTx3hgIdnl_E-yFwFkPaULm1pg&mra=ls&z=5

It’s been too long since my last post, but after two straight days of packing and moving, about 1,030 miles of flight time, three states, three Great lakes, and a hot dog I have some words.

Day one:  on Friday Josh and I decided to move in with our friend Jesse.  Day two:  on Monday evening, after arriving back home from an extended stay in MN, we were packing.  Day three: on Tuesday we were packing and moving simultaneously with a break for some tears, reevaluation, and a giant hug.  Day four:  on Wednesday we were still packing and moving simultaneously with five hours of that time on my shoulders alone.   By the end of the day we transformed the front room of Jesse’s house into a mere “hall of stuff.”

Day five:  today I flew to Boston.  My friend Nicole is my gem from Uganda, the kindred spirit I met amid my deepest pits of despair and mountains of jubilee.  For the afternoon we sat outside with a pair of smoothies and catch-up conversation.  For the evening we sauntered over to Tufts, her choice for higher education, for some free food and conversation.  I met the lot of Chemistry Master’s students including one particularly interesting male, Nickodus de’ Willis (commonly known as Nick Wilton.)

Nick spoke as an open book for a good long while.  In that time he spoke of several confusing, yet interesting, topics and several highly discussable subjects.  We talked of love.  As soon as he found I was married he launched into his life’s story of love as a poly-amorous individual.  Some food for thought… maybe I can develop this statement further later.

“Everything in life is art.”  Including painting, chemistry, and relationships.

About four or five years ago my family adopted three Malard Ducks.  We got them when they were the size of a baby’s fist, so small that their swimming pool was a gallon ice cream bucket.  We named them Dawson, Isabelle, and Tipsy.  At this point we didn’t know who was a girl and who was a boy, but it seems we guessed well because when they sprouted into teenagers Isabelle was the only brown, camo backed duck of the three.  Tipsy grew out of his name quickly though.  As a duckling he was duck-footed, go figure, so in his constant excitement he would spend his time sprinting, tripping, and getting back up.  In a matter of weeks he became sure-footed and manly ;).

Unfortunately a couple of incidents occurred, leaving two of our lovely and spunky ducks dead.  But guess who lived… Tipsy!  Lo and behold the gimpy duck held strong through the trials of natural predators and fear.

After Tipsy’s feathers grew in fully we brought him to my dad’s school to set him free in the pond.  We visited him for a couple weeks and the last day we saw him he was with a lady duck.  Every spring there are usually some Mallards that visit the pond at my dad’s school, we’ll never know if it’s Tipsy, but I like to think I see him now and again :).

It’s been a while since my last post.  Business has been crazy, so my “photo a day” has been postponed until today :).  Although, I do have to note that the business work does count, it’s just posted to my website 🙂

When I was in Milton, WI this past weekend I had the privilage of a lovely sunny weekend and a little bit of light rain for the camera.  The rain didn’t last long at all, but long enough to grab a couple shots.

The world flourishes, breathes, and lives all around us.  Even the most inanimate objects are a part of the life because they ever, whether intentionally or unintentionally, interact with the world.

Choosing to draw near to life is an adventure.  The bark of a tree comes alive as if it were a mountainous terrain, too dangerous to venture on.  A leaf begins to look like an ex-ray of a human hand, zoomed in to see the network of capillaries.  And a rock appears to be a sponge or a grouping of colorful boogers or an array of precious gemstones.  Up close, such mundane, small, and forgotten objects become treasure troves of detail and surprise.