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Satin & Sand

Category Archives: Writing

Thanksgiving Day…

25 Thursday Nov 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Holiday, Memoir, Photography, Reflections, Thanksgiving, W. J. Cameron, Writing

© Joan Currie

Thanksgiving, after all, is a word of action.

W.J. Cameron

At dawn on Thanksgiving I set out on a road trip to pick up my eldest daughter so that she could join us for our family dinner. Although I was not particularly enthusiastic about doing the six hour drive, as I wanted to stay home to prepare food for our big dinner, I decided to make the best of it.

As it turned out, there was hardly any traffic, the scenery in the morning light was breathtaking, and I was captivated by a CD that I had wanted to hear for some time. The return drive gave my daughter and me a rare opportunity for uninterrupted dialog about her life plans and sharing humorous travel tales. To top it off, when we arrived home, her sisters had prepared the entire feast by themselves and all we had to do was sit down and enjoy it. All in all, despite my initial apprehensions, it turned out to be one of my very best Thanksgivings!

Inner Voice…

23 Tuesday Nov 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Food, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Inner Voice, Lauren DiMarco, Maya Angelou, Moja Maat, Photography, Relationships, Self-help, Writing

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© Moja Ma’at

The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.

Maya Angelou

The inner voice is a beautiful thing. If heeded, it can act like a Geiger counter to detect potentially harmful situations. In really serious situations it may seem to shout, but at other times, say at the beginning of a relationship, it may be perceived as a whisper. Heed it all the same, regardless of the intensity.

Consider this relatively benign, perhaps trite, but nevertheless heartbreaking example.  I had the pleasure of meeting a man for the first time over brunch. He seemed smart, savvy, sexy, and we even ordered the same item on the menu –  waffles with strawberries. I was so captivated by his charming stories, particularly the one with a spot-on Elvis imitation, that I did not pay attention to my food.

When he paused to eat, I glanced down at our place settings. His plate was perfectly organized – the strawberries had been quartered and arranged neatly in the upper left quadrant while the waffles were perfectly stacked and he was cutting them with the precision and intensity of a neurosurgeon along the grid lines and then dipping them in a small pool of maple syrup that clung to one side of the plate. My plate, on the other hand, was a mess compared to his! It had not even occurred to me to try to impress him by following suit and putting the food in some sort of geometric pattern or order as I consumed it.

At that moment, my inner voice told me that the relationship was a non-starter – that it was doomed to fail. I chose to ignore it, despite the fact that it had never failed me in the past.

Over time we discovered many commonalities, but we also discovered many differences. Our diametrically opposed skill sets might have complimented each other, but in our case his rigidity that I flagged in the first encounter translated into an inflexible attitude toward problem solving and intolerance for other points of view. Close, but no cigar was his assessment of the relationship and he was right! We both chose to pursue other situations, but I regret that I squandered several precious years with him when I might have directed my energies toward finding a better match.

Model – Lauren DiMarco

Gift of Time…

20 Saturday Nov 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Beauty, Death, Emily Dickinson, Lauren DiMarco, Memoir, Moja Maat, Self-help, Writing

L at MtnV

© Moja Ma’at

Because I would not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
Emily Dickinson

I remember sitting at my bedroom desk trying to analyze a poem for a ninth grade English class. As I gazed outside the window for inspiration, I saw that dusk had painted the sky a brilliant conch shell pink and a pale lavender blanket of snow cloaked the ground, save for a grove of birch trees whose silhouette looked like tall paper dolls pressed together in conversation.

At that moment I had the terrifying realization that death would come calling one day. I tried to grapple with the notion that I would not continue in my mind and body for eternity. My view of the world changed on that mid-November afternoon at the tender age of thirteen. Even though I was doomed to see things through the glass darkly as it were, from that day forth, what I did behold was with passion, amazement, and wonder.

At middle age, almost against my will, I have revisited that landscape of my youth. I am grateful for another opportunity to consider my mortality and make choices that will enhance my life as I begin a new chapter.

Time is the most valuable, but diminishing, asset I have. I am now very careful about with whom I give and receive the gift of time. I do not engage in personal relationships that are not joyful, loving, or satisfying and I aspire to have at least one positive experience each and every day.

You, too, can give yourself the gift of time – it is never too late to make a change!

L - MtnV2

© Moja Ma’at

Model – Lauren DiMarco

Mitzpah…

15 Monday Nov 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Antonio Genovia, beautiful, Beauty, Fashion Photography, Lauren DiMarco, Memoir, Mitzpah, Oleg Galagan, Omar Sharif, Photography, The Far Pavilions, Writing

© Antonio Genovia

Making love? It’s a communion with a woman. The bed is a holy table. There I find passion and purification. – Omar Sharif

Over the weekend I watched the TV mini series, The Far Pavilions, staring Ben Cross, Amy Irving, and Omar Sharif. Based on Mary Margaret Kaye’s 1978 novel of the same name, this epic romance was set in India during the British Raj or rule.

Early on in the story, the protagonist, Aston Pelham-Martyn (aka Ashok), received a gift of a mother-of-pearl charm from his childhood friend, Anjuli, a half-caste princess. Because he had nothing to offer her, he broke the trinket in half and gave her back a piece of it, promising to return one day and thus making it whole again.

The scene sparked the memory that I, too, had received half of an amulet many years ago. I rushed to my jewelry box and tucked away in a tiny velvet pouch was my part of a silver Mitzpah medallion. I could discern some of the words from Genesis on the back of it, “The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from the other.”

Receiving a Mitzpah in college was akin to a pre-engagement promise. There was an expectation that although we might go our separate ways for a time, we would one day be together again and so would the two pieces of our Mitzpah.

Unlike the characters in The Far Pavilions who, despite one obstacle after the other, succeeded in reuniting, our paths never crossed again. For me, the new-found Mitzpah now serves as a touchstone for many wonderful memories from years gone by.

My half of the Mitzpah.

Models – Lauren DiMarco & Oleg Galagan

Beaded Necklaces…

04 Thursday Nov 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Crafts, Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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Beading, Crafts, George Elliot, Memoir, Murano beads, Photography, Venice, Writing

© Joan Currie - Murano necklace

These gems have life in them: their colors speak, say what words fail of.     George Elliot

I have a penchant for necklaces fashioned from handmade Venetian Murano beads. The multi-strand emerald and maroon necklace above was made with disc-shaped aventurine beads embedded with speckles of gold.

The more whimsical and delicate necklace below, given to me by my mother, was designed using several cylindrical black Wedding cake beads enhanced with glass overlays of pink roses, gold swirls, and blue dots.

Necklace with Black Wedding Cake Beads

A Morning with Julia Child…

17 Sunday Oct 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Food, Reflections, Writing

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Julia Child, Memoir

Voilà! My Daughter's First Bundt Cake

Some people like to paint pictures, or do gardening, or build a boat in the basement. Other people get a tremendous pleasure out of the kitchen, because cooking is just as creative and imaginative an activity as drawing, or wood carving, or music.

Julia Child

After the obligatory, monosyllabic babble, the first recognizable words out of my three daughters’ mouths were pâte brisé, flambé, and bon appetit! At a time when all the other neighborhood children identified with Big Bird and the rest of the delightful characters on Sesame Street, my progeny preferred the company of the middle-aged, wonderfully eccentric Julia Child. The girls would sit transfixed around the television set as she demonstrated how to whip up one fantastique meal after the other. They became devotees and insisted on watching every time Julia Child appeared on WGBH Boston.

After each show my daughters would pour over Julia Child cookbooks, even before the youngest could read. The eldest bookmarked the pages of interest using multi-colored recipe cards – yellow for appetizers, green for salads, blue for main dishes, and pink for desserts, while the youngest made her selections known in red crayons and fruity-scented purple markers. Here too, their early word recognition included more French and technical culinary terms than the mundane English vocabulary of their activities of daily living.

They became full-fledged connoisseurs and I enjoyed overhearing them discuss the subtleties of food preparation and ingredient selection, such as whether one or two teaspoons of cinnamon improved the flavor of homemade applesauce, was our gingerbread recipe better than the one served at Sturbridge Village, and were farmers’ market eggs superior to store-bought ones when making a mile-high lemon meringue pie?

When I learned that Julia Child was promoting her new book, The Way to Cook, one Saturday morning at a mall in Cambridge, it was out of the question not to go. We found her sitting alone at a table in the mezzanine, with her cookbooks stacked off to the side. The girls rushed over and began peppering her with questions about her shows and the reasons she did this or that. She was terribly amused by their enthusiasm, made them feel completely at ease, and generously spent the entire morning talking to them about French cooking and baking as no one else appeared at the table during that time.

We purchased several books that she graciously signed along with an older paperback copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, which my youngest carried around with her in lieu of a baby blanket. To this day, all three still have a penchant for Julia Child’s legacy that was her cooking, but especially her panache and joie de vivre. They have indeed mastered the art of French cooking – surtout the youngest!

Birthday Cakes…

01 Friday Oct 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Fashion, Food, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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beautiful, Beauty, Birthday Cake, Fashion, Kristin Gerbert, Photography, Robert Browning

© Kristin Gerbert - http://www.kg.photography.com

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be…
Robert Browning

I love transforming a simple cake into something spectacular, worthy of a birthday. My favorite cake was one I created for my daughter’s third birthday. It was a white four-layer cake, frosted with a buttercream basketweave design, and dotted with pink sweetheart rosebuds. Candied flowers and swirling candles were the final touches. She was utterly delighted, and it remains the gold standard by which she has judged all her birthday cakes since.

You could let a birthday pass like any other day, and not bother with a cake; you could perhaps buy a cake; or, to really make an occasion of it, you could create a cake that is extraordinary, a work of art – embellished with all that represents the life of the recipient, whether it would be a loved one, or even yourself! After all, a birthday is only once a year, and despite protestations to the contrary, most people would love a cake that was created especially for them. Who knows what may befall us, and how many birthday cakes we have left to enjoy. Why not honor every year with a glorious cake?

Shared Experiences: Sailing…

08 Wednesday Sep 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Art, Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Writing

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beautiful, Jesper Brandt, Lucy Macdonald, Memoir, Photography, Sailboat racing, Sailing, Writing

© Jesper Brandt

The initial bond is the shared experience.
Lucy Macdonald

Some time ago, I signed up to crew in an overnight yacht race across Lake Ontario from Toronto to Rochester and back. I had sailed with this all-male crew many times before, save for one new member, John, who was to share the same watch.

Once under sail, both the weather and our stomachs turned bad. It was the worst night of my life – apocalyptic downpours requiring the storm jibs to be changed every hour, heaving over the sides of the boat, the boom hit John in the head and sent him flying overboard, the skipper and first mate had a fist fight on deck, and we were disqualified from the race for hitting another boat.

The next day, I received a phone call from John telling me that the night before had been the best of his life! He wanted me to be the mother of his children and there was another overnight race the coming weekend – when could he pick me up? Was it the head injury or did this man, after witnessing me at my sick and bedraggled worst, still want to meet me again? It was amazing how we had such different takes on the same experience, but beautiful in that John saw beyond the difficulties of the event and still wanted to go back for more.

© Jesper Brandt

Morning Snuggle…

07 Tuesday Sep 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Art, Design, Photography, Reflections, Relationships, Writing

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Beauty, Pablo Neruda, Photography, Pia Ulin, Relationships, Snuggle, Tom Shannon, Writing

Morning Snuggle

© Pia Ulin

Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
when you surrender, you stretch out like the world.

Cuerpo de mujer, blancas colinas, muslos blancos,
te pareces al mundo en tu actitud de entrega.

Pablo Neruda

One of the things I loved most about being married was snuggling in bed wrapped in the arms of my beloved in the early hours of the morning.  It was during those precious moments under warm layers of an eiderdown and cotton sheets, with our bodies intertwined as one, that we shared our innermost thoughts, hopes, and dreams.

Forsaking all others, we talked in hushed tones and tenderly stroked each other’s heads and soft spots until dawn’s first light.  I savored and luxuriated in those moments of reverie and touch before we would reluctantly break away to begin the morning routine.  Building a few minutes of intimacy and pleasure into the start of the day can make all the difference to a relationship and the quality of your life.  You may come to treasure and yearn for more of those tender times, too.

© Tom Shannon

Engaging in Life…

06 Monday Sep 2010

Posted by stanfordblog in Fashion, Photography, Reflections, Relationships, Writing

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beautiful, Beauty, Fashion, Jesper Brandt, Memoir, Photography, Sailor Moon, Writing

© Jesper Brandt

Sometimes we have love and sometimes we lose love. Sometimes love can hurt terribly like a deep wound. In our world we have lots of ups and down, pleasures and pains. But that’s life and we learn to accept the bad with the good. Without the bad times we wouldn’t appreciate the good times. Life is precious and I cherish ever single moment. – Sailor Moon

A newly married woman I know worried that her husband was going to leave her because there was so much drama in her life. Family and friends were constantly asking for her help with serious issues and there seemed to be no end in sight to the bad tidings.

It turned out that she did not have to fret for one moment about her husband’s commitment to the marriage. It was her way of engaging in the messiness of life and not turning away from helping others – getting her hands dirty as it were, that he adored and loved about her most. He knew also that if the time were to come when he needed help, she would be right there at his side.

Consider a mosaic: shards of glass, stone or tile are set together in such a way as to form an image. If all the pieces are white – no picture is evident. Add a few fragments of light yellow or beige and perhaps the beginning of an image appears. But add some black and glittery gold to the work and now you start to have definition from the contrast between the light and the dark. Further, when you add shards from the entire color palette, a vision emerges that has depth, intensity, and profundity. We have only one chance to create the image that is our life. It can be shallow or it can have depth. The choice is ours!

© Jesper Brandt

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