Recap of This Week's Great Things

I've been trying to think of a way to quantify the gratitudes that I've experienced this week. They slide on a scale that's difficult for me to gauge. Just when I think I have an understanding of how thankful I am, something happens to nudge me further along my path of quasi-comprehension.

Rather than try to rank them, I'll put them in a list in more-or-less chronologic order. More-or-less.

I made the decision to do my mid-week runs after work rather than risk ankle-turning morning darkness. Along with this decision came what appears to be some sort of acclimation to 90 degree plus temperatures at 5:30 PM.

My Advil usage has declined dramatically since I started drinking a cup of ginger tea each evening. (I'm steeping fresh ginger for this.) I'm not advocating that anyone ELSE use ginger. It's working for me. It's likely placebo effect. I only know that I was taking an overabundance of Advil and took only 400.mg total in the last week. HUGE change for me.

The cause of my eye problems seems to be...wait for it...age. I've been dealing with red eyes, dry eyes, and problems with blurred vision for several weeks. I threw out all my makeup, I've done all the things I would tell my patients to do, and I saw my eye doctor a couple days ago. I'm not good at making tears anymore. No, it's not a metaphor. After plunking down a hundred bucks for medicine, I'm starting to feel better. I'm very relieved it's not something more serious.

White Linen Nights in the Heights is a huge deal. It's a see and be seen scene notorious for traffic tie-ups. Last night I went to exactly one event at one gallery and I had a great time. I received hugs from my friends, had a glass of champagne, socialized for a bit and then went home. Perfect White Linen Night for me. (See the above paragraph re: age.)

I accepted that I'd have to order a Fitbit in order to comply with upcoming health insurance changes at work. This was a source of grumbling and dragging of heals for me. After receiving the device, I promised myself to use it. (What's one more fitness tracker, right?) I lost it this morning. The kind employees at HEB found it and had it waiting for me at the Customer Service desk. That's like finding a hundred bucks. (Yes, that hundred bucks!) I wrote a glowing letter to HEB. I hope those employees are recognized for helping me. I really do. I am uber appreciative.

I continue to have friendly and interesting people come into my life. Today I met two fascinating guys who write about baseball. Their enthusiasm for the game and for their craft was exciting to see and I enjoyed sharing a cup of coffee with them. I'm encouraged to see people who strive to spend their time working at their passions and living in gratitude.

Finally, I found a gift of a video. It's called "Mile...Mile and a Half". It's a documentary that follows a team along the John Muir Trail. Artists, photographers, videographers, hikers, nature lovers - consider watching this film. It's available on Netflix and it's gorgeous. I watched a little each evening before drifting off to sleep. The colors and sounds are amazing. It made me want to hike. It was that good.

©Michelle Scofield, August 3, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Blue Tanzanite Christmas in July

"I hope you don't mind if I run next to you. You just keep going and I want to quit. But you don't quit"

I wanted to quit. The stairs were right there, ten feet away. My plan 15 seconds prior had been to head for those stairs. I kept running with her.

It was unbelievably hot and humid in Progresso, Mexico. The ship was docked and there was no breeze. Not a whiff. My clothes were soaked through. My Tuesday was to go like this: sleep in, shower, eat breakfast, then make my way to the spa for a long-anticipated full-body massage. I woke earlier than expected and did what I do when I have extra time on my hands. I made my way to the 10th deck's tiny track and started running. The thing was...I didn't have much oomph. After 15 minutes of pushing myself and cursing myself, I wasn't enjoying it and I wanted to quit and take that shower. I was starting to consider my breakfast. Then she told me I don't quit.

So I ran next to her and we talked about why we run. She's a teacher and she is determined to set a good example for her students. She wants to be able to tell them (when/if they ask) what she does for exercise. She runs. Her name is Holly. She was traveling with her family, none of whom share her passion for running and she was getting up and exercising before any of them started their day so she didn't cause a kink in the vacation works. She talked about balancing her desire to party with the gang and still wake up early and run. She talked quite a bit while we ran and honestly she was a LOT younger than me so I was happy just to let her talk while I concentrated on not guppy breathing in the thick Mexican air.

A couple days later, I was having a little difficulty finding a lounger in the shade. After a full day in the sun at Cozumel, I needed shade. Ah! I spotted one next to a woman and a teenish-looking girl. I arranged my book, my phone, my earbuds, and looked around for a waiter. Time for a cold drink and some quiet time. The woman next to me turned out to be a talker. That turned out to be an okay thing.

She is originally from Serbia and is recently divorced. She is apparently doing everything she always wanted to do but her husband didn't allow. She obtained a driver's license. She cut her hair. She got a tattoo. She is traveling - a lot. The girl on the chair next to her is her granddaughter. Last month my new friend took another granddaughter to Disney World. She will go to California for Christmas - with her divorced male neighbor.

She will never marry again but plans to take, "as many lovers as will have me". She tells me all her friends call her Snow.

I met Steve at a bar on the ship. He's also divorced and the father of 1 son and 2 daughters. His girls were his travel mates. They're old enough to spend time on their own, which they did for a good part of the cruise. We talked over cocktails most evenings and went to a couple shows together. Steve and I shared laughs with the bartenders and with other passengers. There is a wonderful phenomenon that can happen when traveling with strangers. Past and present journeys somehow get mixed together in the telling of tales at the end of the day. One evening, Steve told me how he lost his relationship with his son. He told me that it was embarrassing to admit his fault as a parent. All I could do was reassure him and let him know he isn't traveling alone on that particular journey.

I've been suffering from post-vacation blues. It seems as if as soon as I got back home I was hit with a crazy work schedule including covering another hospital - which doubles my time spent in rush hour traffic. I started marathon training and knowing I have runs planted on my calender makes me feel simultaneously resentful and relieved. January is a long way off and some afternoons are as hot as Progresso out there as I step out the door for my runs. I'm doing what I can to stay motivated, including asking for a week off work in August. Hopefully a friend will be flying in to town to help me enjoy it. I'm trying to figure out a way to spend Christmas with friends and/or family. (I feel like I was given a particularly big nudge by Holly and Snow regarding that.)

Me and those blues. We're not strangers to each other. I know how to keep them at bay, even if I don't rid myself of them forever. I think they're wound into my DNA. My helix runs a deep shade of Tanzanite. (That's a reference JUST for you, Jacque and Raquel.)

When I was running the other day, I was tempted, again, to give up. (That's how it works, you know. It's damned HARD to keep going when it's 95 degrees out and you've been up since 5:30 am and have worked a full day.) I was listening to music. "Falling Slowly" from "Once" started playing. I was back in London, a trip I worked my ass off to pay for. I was in the theatre listening to one of the most beautiful songs ever written and sung.

"Take this sinking boat and point it home.
We've still got time.
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice."

Always. I have a choice. Running on.



©Michelle Scofield, July 30 2014, All Rights Reserved

Two Openings: One Gallery

Alfredo Scaroina is showing "Reclaimed Matter" at Deborah Colton Gallery. I've watched Mr. Scaroina for several years. He has been a bold mixer of materials and color. Most of these works are large in scale. (At least one is composed on a door). The evolution I note with these works is more depth and a call to the viewer to spend time puzzling over the choice of media. Three years ago, the word "subtle" wouldn't have crossed my mind when viewing a Scaroina work. Last night, it did. Change happens. For my taste, this is a good thing.

Walk to the back of the gallery to see David Graeve's "Civil Disobedience to Direct Action". It thrills me to see innovation in art. Mr. Graeve forces us to tilt this way and that to see what he has sculpted into his work. Although the pieces are thematic, they don't seem contrived. Walking through the rooms filled with his sculpture, I felt in the presence of an encompassing knowledge of the science of moving objects from one form into another to create art. It's a fascinating exhibit.

Both of these exhibits are worthy of more than just a quick pass-through. Give yourself time to study them and appreciate the thoughtful work of these very talented artists.



Deborah Colton Gallery
2445 North Boulevard
Houston, TX 77098
July 12, 2014 - August 23, 2014




©Michelle Scofield, July 13, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris

A friend asked me if I live at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. No, but sometime I wish it were so.

I attended this exhibit, Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris, with a Meetup Group. This gathering of people who appreciate art in all forms came together on Thursday evening to view a collection of photos by Marville, who worked as the official photographer for the city of Paris in the mid 1800's.

The photographs capture cityscape as still life and inspired in me feelings of sadness for inevitable sweep of change to come. Pay attention to the small details, for certainly Marville did. He caught the industrial bits and pieces that were new but also transient.

The technical descriptions of the photography were inspiring for this neophyte, as well.

Charles Marville: Photographer of Paris
Through 9/14/2014
Beck Building, Lower Level
Museum of Fine Arts Houston
Admission to this exhibit included with your general admission ticket

Sunday Afternoon At Redbud Gallery

Moe Profane Nihilism and Nanner Puddin
June 7-June 29, 2014
Redbud Gallery
303 E. 11th Street Houston, TX 77008

Gallery Hours Wed-Sun 12-5pm

I wish I'd found this exhibit sooner. Thanks to KM for pointing me in the right direction. As it is, I'm letting you know about it just a week before it closes, but you may still have time to swing by.

This is a small, well-curated display of pop-meets-vintage-meets-humor that doesn't feel overworked. I have a particular hangup about these genres. They often come across as kitsch to me. These pieces don't. Neither did they feel haphazard.

After viewing the Moe Profane exhibit, we took in the collection in the room directly behind the front gallery. There was quite a collection of painting, lithographs, and sculptures to browse.  Several strong pieces: a Miro lithograph, a Jasper Johns, some African tribal work.  I found it masculine, expensive, and interesting.



We also stepped right next door to:

G Gallery
301 E. 11th Street Houston, TX 77008

There is an eclectic collection at G Gallery to be sure. Spend some time. Parking is a breeze. The great thing about the Heights is that time seems to pass so pleasantly and there is always a coffee shop around the corner. I'm looking forward to events at both of these galleries, now that I've found them.


©Michelle Scofield, June 23, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Upstairs

Last night, the Museum of Fine Arts Houston opened a (to me) fascinating exhibition of the collection called "Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House". This is the first stop for the collection before it heads off to San Francisco and Nashville.

Somewhere in the pre-opening hype, I made note of a couple references to Downton Abbey. Of course, I was in! Would I see splendid furnishings similar to the television show I devoured recently? What of the tea sets?

I should have done a little more research.

It wasn't Downton. Well, I take that back. It was the foundation on which Downton could have been set if I wasn't in such a hurry to put an electric toaster in the kitchen. (Faithful viewers will get that.) The Houghton Hall exhibit displays an amazing example of what wealth must have been like and might still be. For some.

Now, back to the collection:

Houghton Hall is the family estate of the Marquesses of Cholomondeley. It was built in the early 18th century by Sir Robert Walpole. The traveling exhibit does a fair job of placing you into and guiding you through rooms of the estate. (After seeing massive marble arches in England, I was slightly underwhelmed by the use of the wall panels to represent the marble and the library.)

Speaking of books, I swooned at a John Locke. There are tiny treasures to explore. Take your time. The preview was PACKED and I felt a little claustrophobic. Within the glass cases are stunning examples of porcelain but not so many that you'll be bored by them. Particularly interesting to me were the handwritten inventories of household items.

Not to be missed: The massive "The Knights and The Briar Rose" by Edward Burne-Jones. I felt a tug by the Burne-Jones. It was immediately familiar. What was it? My friend and I went back for a second view. It struck me that it has much in common with "Joan of Arc" by Jules Bastien-Lepage. I've learned that Burne-Jones and Bastien-Lepage attended the Royal Academies of Art in England and France, respectively, at almost the same time. I attempted to dive deeper into these two artists but did you know that when you start down a road with signs marked, "Avant-garde", you always end up at a Warhol soup can?

I suggest that you view the exhibit from front to back, saving the portrait gallery for last. The John Singer Sargents merit time to appreciate their fall-into-me beauty.

Houghton Hall: Portrait of an English Country House runs from June 22-September 21, 2014 at the Museum of Fine Arts, 1001 Bissonet, Houston, TX, 77005. Tickets are $15.00 Your ticket also provides entry to the museum's collections.



©Michelle Scofield, June 21, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Happy Saturday

2.12 miles 26:08 12:22 pace 45 degrees 11:15am Hermann Park


I've been active at work. More than active. My guess is I've also been banking cortisol at record pace. Not good.

Today started out very cool - actually near freezing. I woke around 6:30am, read a little, then started cleaning. I have clean sheets, clean floors, a clean bathroom. I was waiting for the warmup. The sun streamed into my place, beckoning to me. "Come outside!"

My right heel and forefoot are still stiff. If I admit to truth, they're sore. But not too bad. I took a couple walking breaks and decided not to go such a very long distance. I only wanted to be outside. I wanted to grab a little Happy. And I did. (Oh, and update on my decision not to run the marathon. It was the right one. I went to Austin with a great friend. That was Happy, too.)





©Michelle Scofield, January 25, 2014 All Rights Reserved

(Doing) Good

Grocery shopping at Target.  I should know better that to attempt such folly.  Fruit was on my list.  I wanted to get fresh fruit to add to oatmeal and greek yogurt - berries, maybe mango.  The blackberries at Target were apparently quite precious, coming in at close to five dollars a pound and the strawberries were nowhere near ripe.  I didn't find any mangos.  I filled my basket with my other necessities (ZipLoc bags, a loaf of whole wheat bread, razor blades) and checked out.  It's a gorgeous and sunny day in Houston.  I considered driving through Sonic for a rootbeer float.  Nah.  I'm not running and the lack of caloric expenditure is not good for my waistline.  Thus the quest for fresh fruit.

Kroger is a few blocks from Target.  I wanted to use the CoinStar machine and get an Amazon certificate so I decided to zip in, do that, and look for some fruit.  (I save my change from my purse in a bowl on my coffee table and cash it in every month or so.  CoinStar doesn't charge a surcharge if I get a gift certificate.  I have my eye on a tripod for my camera.)

As I entered Kroger, I was met by two grade-schoolers who immediately asked me if I wanted to donate money to the Houston Food Bank.  Well, let's see.  I was carrying around a sack of change, going into a grocery store on one of my two days off of the week from a job that pays me really well to do good work and stimulates me intellectually.  Yes.

I told them I'd stop on my way out.  I noticed that they glanced at each other.  I wondered how many times they'd heard people put them off today. 

I took care of my business in the store, stuck a few dollars in my pocket and stopped to talk to the little girls on my way out.  They had a hand-lettered sign that said, "Give $1 to the Houston Food Bank.  Root Beer Floats"

I handed my money to the girl with the big brown eyes and long dark hair.  "Look!  I've made the most money today!"  She squealed to her friend.

She turned to me and asked me if I wanted a rootbeer float.

How could I resist?

I was so impressed with the excitement and dedication of those girls today.  They both talked to me with interest and enthusiasm.  They were out doing GOOD. 

On the other hand...

I noticed that CoinStar charges a >10% fee if the customer changes those coins into bills.  Awful.  Really awful.  Opposite of Good.

©Michelle Scofield, January 12, 2014   All Rights Reserved

Free Bird

"If I leave here tomorrow


Would you still remember me?

For I must be traveling on now

'Cause there's too many places I've got to see...



...And this bird you can not change.

Lord knows I can't change."



Allen Collins, Ronnie Van Zant











I was driving to work yesterday (thinking, thinking) and, blessedly, Lynyrd Skynyrd came on my radio. Wanderlust is tugging me, pushing me, sending me to places as yet unknown.



I'll give in to it. I always do. I haven't started collecting moving boxes - not yet. To put it off a bit, I have another E ticket in my inbox and a voucher that’s good until May of this year. That soothes me some. A little.



I wish I knew what it is I'm seeking. In the meantime, I'll crank up the volume and sing at the top of my lungs while I drive. Soothing comes in different ways on different days.





©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2014, All Rights Reserved

E is for English Breakfast Tea

I'm baking 3 loaves of banana bread to take to work.  Never got around to eating those bananas (except 1) from a few days ago.  My place smells yummy.  I used walnuts from my grocery trip earlier this afternoon.

I'm trying to keep quick, portable foods handy for lunches.  Having the time to heat a meal seems to be a thing of the past most Mondays through Fridays.  I boiled these eggs.  I have nuts, yogurt, berries, carrots.

I slipped some more tea bags into my tote and I'll take them to work tomorrow.  It seems a cup with a tiny bit of cream and sugar is just as good a pick me up as coffee and somehow not so aggressive.  Maybe it's all in my head.  And maybe that's exactly as it should be.

©Michelle Scofield, January 5, 2014. All rights reserved.

D is for Docent

I moved from room to room, soaking up the bits of information he offered like the lemony, buttery sauce on a plate of perfectly roasted chicken.  If I took my time and savored the experience, I could break off a crust of bread and enjoy the small morsels - slowly, with determination.  I could delay looking at all the beautiful paintings hanging around me and focus on the few being discussed on the tour.

I was surprised to find that our tour was being led by a man.  I admit to having a preconceived notion of a Docent as an elderly woman wearing a navy blue blazer, mid-calf skirt, and Naturalizer shoes. He wore none of these.  He knew his Impressionists and he helped me to know them. 

For a little over an hour, he led our group of fifteen through the permanent collection at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, giving us a mini-lesson on the beginnings of the movement and how to LOOK at one of the paintings to recognize the brush strokes, the placement of the subjects within the paintings, and the perspective of the artist. 

I was very happy that he focused on one of my favorites - Camille Pissarro.  My knowledge grew. That always makes a good day for me.

I also gained emotional insight into why the Impressionism period is my favorite.  As we moved past a Classical piece, I felt uncomfortable.  Too many rules.  

Docents don't have to be women. Painters don't have to be realists. I don't have to eat the main course.  I stayed only for the tour and saved that big bird on the platter for later.







©Michelle Scofield, January 4, 2014,  All Rights Reserved

Compassion Train

The people who live in the park won't care if it's Celsius or Fahrenheit.  I don't know how they exist in these temperatures.  I was moved to send a little cash to the Star of Hope Mission today after hearing how Cory Booker and his crew were out shoveling snow back East.  I felt like I had to something.  Anything.  I was moved.  Damn straight, I was.  We need more politicians like that.  Anyone can label it a publicity stunt.  Who cares?  The snow got moved, along with a whole lot of people.

Let's Run With this 1 Fine Day Thing

B is for bunch.  I'm determined to participate in social activities, to be part of a group.  Thankfully, I was called late yesterday afternoon and asked if I could be at the Houston Zoo last night to see the Zoo Lights.  Yes!  I had a great time walking through the pretty displays, listening to Christmas music (on January 1st), laughing, joking, in general being cracked up by 5 of the funniest guys I know.

Today is Thursday.  You know, the day before Friday, which is followed by Saturday.  Now that I'm not completely preoccupied by running (obsess much?), I don't have 3 and 4 hour blocks of time carved out for long runs on the weekends.  What to do?  Get out and participate in humanity!  I'm signed up for a members' talk at the Museum of Fine Arts Saturday morning.  Subject:  The Impressionists.  Love that!  And maybe I'll make some friends. 

I also received a birthday party invitation for Saturday night.  It's not a surprise party but I was surprised to get the invite.  Of COURSE I'm going.  :)

My goal for this year is to look for 1 fine thing in every day.  And to mix in the alphabet.  And to try to write regularly.  Wish me luck.

So far so good.
















©Michelle Scofield, January 2, 2014, All Rights Reserved

1 Fine Day

Day 1.  A is for:  Asking myself to do better for myself.  Notice the imperfections.



Taken with my iPhone.





©Michelle Scofield, January 1, 2014,  All Rights Reserved