Tea dying linen, with the sun shining and windows open. Looks as if these are going to be the last of the warm days. The feeling of the changing air already has me excited for the first of spring, but my mind tends to skip ahead like that.


I love to see how other people live. It pulls me back, reflecting on my day-to-day, making me conscious. What makes me happy? What do I find rewarding? Challenging? Important?

After a week in California, I return feeling inspired (to the extent of avoiding sleep, currently), drawing from new sources. And, if this trip was a story—which it was, really—the moral would be one on the importance of conscious living. Every minute deserves the weight of being labeled "a choice."

I am my day. I am the decisions I make. I am how I spend my time.

[A digital shot from Sam until my film's developed.]


I've been turning to my 2012 goals lately, reflecting on the past nine months and getting to work on a few things I've yet to tackle—one of which, until a couple of weeks ago, was to create more of a morning routine. No rush. No set plans. Just a bit of structure that I weave my mornings around.

It's sometimes a tight knit and other times a loose web, but always with similar elements—a hot drink, a bit of exercise, a few pages of a book, breakfast, some tidying. I allow myself the fascination of changing light; I sit there and get goosebumps watching it, thinking about it. I can't believe this happens! Every morning I think: I can't believe this happens.

P.S. Mary Oliver on the morning.

(I used this recipe, above. Next time I'll split the flour, since I found the sole use of whole wheat, in this instance, a little too pungent for my liking.)