Julie Farias ~ Photographer Writer
Discerning...
BLOG.JULIEFARIAS.COM

The footsteps of eternity...










Another day spent wandering...

Birth

Enlightenment

...

Another day spent wandering these hills and valleys that are now a part of all that I call home.  In meditation.  In meditation of what is and what will be.

And so I wandered off, after having two very strong cups of coffee to parts unknown.  Picked up my camera and trusty map and away I went - wandering back towards the ocean that soothes an eternity of unanswered questions.

I do love it here.  Visually, it is entrancing - from any which way, any direction that I choose to head, the vistas are full of views that delight and excite.  And so today, unwinding a trip from a previous day, but in another direction.  And through a town of significant native american lineage -  seeing and being seen by these locals.  Remembering the sense of once again being a stranger in a strange land.

And heading for my true north - the ocean - the sound of the eternity of the waves.  Winding, plunging into the deepest of darkness - most suddenly and without warning.  And then, just as suddenly being cast back into the tops of the mountains, is the bright sun shiny light - blinking and praying that the pavement would still be under my wheels heading in the same direction that I remembered from just a moment ago.  

Because, suddenly, most suddenly, I cannot see a gosh darned thing.

blink 

blink

More Mendo -











Mendocino County



















Sunrise

Clouds rest on a verdant haze of greenish blue - seated in the foothills of tomorrow.

Sun rises through lenticular clouds.

Fall Festival - Mendocino Style

I love accountability that comes with small towns.





























Simone de Beauvior's Wartime Diary

You know, I picked this up the other day and as I read it, I can't help but compare it to some of the gestalt of today.  

Maybe it is the denial of what surely will come next, the overwhelming sense of impending doom or maybe it is just the hope that if one acts normal, all will be normal.  

It is probably more than anything the collective uncertainty of the times.  Life not as we planned it.

We must remember not only to help ourselves, but those around us. 

Double Dog Dare - Ysabella Style

Is this not the cutest face you've ever seen?

For the first time ever, Ysabella truly let me photograph her.

Of course, there were strings attached.  I in turn had to let her photograph me. 

The results were not as charming.

We're working on it.


Writers Write - The Hawk Glides On Past

You know - 

I love it here.

The wind is my constant companion in these last glimmers of day.

The skies turn from utter bright to shades of blues and violet that will shimmer right past unless you hear their call.

And so here I sit in my very own backyard with dear Ysabella next to her neatly piled stack of bones.  I have a glass of wine at hand from my most recent field trip into the local vineyards.

I've just picked up my second CSA delivery - what a fabulous way to procure your produce.

http://www.localharvest.org/csa/

You make a contract with the farmer to purchase a share of their harvest, usually for a growing season.  It helps the farmer even out their income stream and it educates you as to the bounties and the transient tragedies visited upon those who make their living upon the land.

Unless you grow them yourself, you will never have vegetables so fresh or delectable.  And as  I am an inveterate lifetime gardener, I can tell you that the farmer always exceeds the boundaries of what I would have undertaken to plant for myself.

And so here it is that I sit - thankful for all that has been given in my basket of gifts.

I used to wonder, is love a transitory verb.

And somehow, here I have learned the answer.

No, it is not.  

The love of those that we love and who love us back, that is immutable and constant.  It may be that some relationships are transitory, yes and absolutely, but love is not a transitory verb.

So here I sit and listen to the winds that blow at this time of day.  I hear the last calls of the birds before they lay claim to their boughs.  I am so grateful for all of the gifts that I have been given and for the ability to recognize them.

I am listening

Writers Write - Sunday with Seurat

Decidedly no longer an urban cliff dweller.

No longer a habitué of loft living - sans Jerry Brown - sans la violence.

la la la

Walking to yoga and into a day most certainly worthy of George Seurat.

Skies a cerulean blue.

Winds scattering leaves and speaking of fall impending.

Wondering.

Listening to the sighs of time in the boughs of ancient trees - studying their rings - listening to what was.

Back in the space and time that is deliberate - harvest time - crops and thoughts and dreams.

Decidedly enraptured with all that is.

Walking to yoga and then coffee and then around town.

The same actions transposed to different environs become transcendental. Where in one you must remain in ever constant vigilance as to your surroundings, in the other utter abandonment to the surrounding beauty is not only possible, but recommended.

Now on to play with paint.

The Prayer Rug Wars

As is the case in almost all religious wars, there is no clear victory to be had.

To be certain, the claims have been laid and the fringe eaten off of the aforementioned rug.

Who knows what developments will come next.

Suffice it to say that sides have been chosen and the battle is soon to be undertaken.

Stay tuned.

Adventures in Cooking

Stand back from the fridge.

Hands up.

It did not spontaneously become a putrid mass of spilled milk.

Alors!

It is instead the Cow Girl Creamery Red Hawk Cheese.

It doesn't smell so good, but it is fabulous.

And maybe a good argument for buying another fridge.

But that wouldn't be green, would it?

Advice?

Another sip of Cab Franc...


Listening to the twilight pink and purple skies...

Sitting on my front porch watching the world pass by. 

Saying hello to neighbors traversing on one last journey.

Wondering, how could I have ever left all that this is.

Beauty unfolds in the simplest of moments.

Calm beneath all.

Listening...

Into the quiet...

Blissfully out of town, meandering small byways and shaded paths...

Earth continues to blossom and thrive...

Quiet is bliss...

Always and Adventure...

You just never know what will be happening in my neck of the woods.  

While heading off to the dry cleaners yesterday afternoon, a man in a cast and on crutches was loudly making street deals for his "oxy."  He seemed quite excited to have some product to sell, never mind he couldn't do more than hobble around.

On my way down the street this morning, I was greeted by any number of my fellow citizens.  One, who was walking and rolling something, told me that it was like starting his day with a cup of Folger's Coffee - imagine that.  I didn't know marijuana was already legal in Oakland, but I did just move here recently.

And then of course, there are the poor lost souls who can barely form words, telling you all sorts of things.

But in a nanosecond, hope arises when you see a mother with her brood of clean and well mannered children walking off on some errand.

So, you just never know.  On my way this afternoon we passed another demonstration on 20th street.  Not really sure what that one was for, but surely someone has done something wrong.  Sounds like a good country & western tune or who knows, maybe a rap tune.  I'll wait to hear.

Security is Just an Illusion...

Maybe now more than ever, it is time to remember something that Helen Keller once said - Security is just an illusion - it doesn't really exist in nature.

This roller coaster that we are all on at the moment is full of stomach turning moments.  What will happen next, will the bottom drop out from whence we thought it had already gone  - where do we all end up in this tilt a whirl of economic adventure?

As I've mentioned before, I live in an area that is especially hard hit.  I've had many conversations with the people who sit in the midst of the meltdown and what it clear to me is that those will survive it best are the ones who do not give up hope.

Perhaps this is one of the golden opportunities that sometimes smack us upside the head.  

It is a good time to asses what in life if truly important, time to take a look and see if it is in fact wise to live on debt.  Is it wise  to consume goods and services which we  cannot pay for?  Maybe it is finally time for people to stop borrowing against tomorrow.

Is it possible that Americans could learn again the difference between need and want?  Perhaps it is time for us to become conscious of the true cost of our choices.

I hear comments about people saving more than usual - that this is in fact holding up our recovery.  Yes, I would agree with that to some degree.  But please, let us not shift back into negative savings.  It is time for us to shift our paradigm and our economy and realize that it is not wise to spend our every dollar.  It is not wise in a financial or a spiritual sense.  The very act indicates our lack of hope in tomorrow and our under appreciation of the greatest gifts that life has to offer.

Life has very few guarantees.  If we're fortunate, we become enlightened on this journey.  We learn to love our fellow man and have compassion for the struggles that surround us.  And in so doing, we learn to do the same for ourselves.  Isn't that the very best that we can have in this life?

From my balcony that sits amidst the sea of humanity.

The Urban Cliffdweller  

To My Texas Friends...

Gosh I miss you all!

It's hard to believe I've been in the bay area for a bit over a year now.

Friends are the hardest thing to leave behind when you leave home.  Luckily for me, I do have one or two friends in the immediate area who I've known for years and years.  And of course, in the land of LA, I've got many friends.

But to you all, my Texas friends, as I sit here in the evening weather with temperatures that have dipped into the 50's, I am thinking of you and those wonderful swims at Barton Springs Pool.  And maybe stopping for juice at the stand just down the street.  A moonlit swim or kayaking on Town Lake and floating under the train trestle with the warm breeze and the sound of the cars clack-clack, clack-clack as it moves through the city in darkness of night.

Hugs and hopes to see you all soon.

The Urban Cliff Dweller

Dharma Talks - The Sea of Endless Possibility

Truth be told, Dharma lives upstairs in the penthouse - one of them anyway.

These last few months, weeks and days have been very interesting indeed.  

Hope.  In case you haven't heard me say it before, it is one of the abilities that separates us  from the machines.  Human beings have the ability to hope in the face of insurmountable odds.

Fear. Yes, we do share that most instinctual survival instinct with our animal friends.  The fight, flight or freeze behaviour.

And so here I sit in the end of the day on my front porch.  It's nothing like the porch I had in any of my other homes - no acres of land, no pond, no plantings of aromatic plants, no rose garden or zen retreat of my own.  This porch is in an urban loft in a converted landmark building.  Thankfully, they carved out the center and put in some plants and a blessed fountain which helps us to forget the noise of the traffic which careens on past us.

I must have known that someday I would live in such environs, because I have always said that I could do it for a time.  A day will come when I will remove myself back to a garden of my own, but for now here is where I dwell.

But as is my wont, I have digressed.

These last 12 years, more or less have been about congruence.  About aligning thought with actions, about directing things about realizing what a charmed life I have led.  I have striven for integrity and chosen it as my path, often at great personal cost.

And here I am.  In this time of so much imploding that there are still choices and options gifts from the universe if you prefer to call them that.

LIfe is full of blessings if we remember to look instead not for what we don't have but that which we can give. That to me is when we are truly at our best - when we are giving and striving to improve not only our lives, but the lives of those around us.

This existence of ours sometimes seems to be held together by mere gossamer threads.  Let us not forget to reach out and touch each other in ways that can make a difference.

In truth.

The Urban Cliff Dweller

The world is silent...

The world is silent but for the beating of my heart.  And then I listen.  And then I hear.

 

Rhythm.  And sound.  We are all comprised of the same building blocks, molecular structure, DNA and vibrational harmonics.

 

Do you believe in the collective unconsciousness, the knowing that we all have genetic memory that serves tobind us to humanity?   Is it a stream,or perhaps a river, or an ocean of thought, another, perhaps a higher consciousness?  Is it creation? Who was it who said, “Tocreate is divine, to reproduce merely human?” (1)

 

Rhythm.  The flow, the sound of a breath, a heartbeat, the last eternalgasp, the cadence of humanity.  We arecreatures who live and thrive from the stimulation derived of our group.Singularly we exist, within the context of the right nurturance, we soar to theheavens on the wings of divine ability. Stimulation from nurturance, from positive challenge, from abstractthinking allows expansiveness in our conceptual thinking, our ability to solveproblems and to be productive members of society.

 

Beginnings.  Babies tender and full of the possibilitiesof life.  All infants have musicalability. 2 We are moldable plastic individuals.  Brains formed, each of us born with 100billion brain cells/neurons. 3 Learning is a lifetime of possibility, alifetime event if we choose it to be. Did you know that musicians have a 5% greater capacity in theircerebellum?  This is thought to be dueto the structural plasticity of the brain.4  It seems, according to Dr. NormanWeinberger, Professor of Neurobiology and Behavior at the University ofCalifornia, that “playing music seems to be the ultimate form of brainexercise.”2

 

Rhythm.  We areborn with it.  We move to it.  Deep within our genetic structure, our de-oxy-ribo-nucleicacid (our DNA), we can establish relational models.  We can map it; photograph it with infrared light using a devicecalled a spectrophotometer.  And throughthese images, through these pictures of our selves, in the most core sense,these frequencies are resolved down to a mathematical relationship, one that iscoincidentally like the science of music. It replicates the linear relationshipof musical notes, the building blocks of musical theory from which thefoundational theories are laid.  Thatstarting place from where we begin to bend and break the rules.  The harmonics of our DNA can be synthesizedand played.  It is not dissonant nordiscordant, it is harmonic in the sense that with these notes, we feel anoverwhelming sense of comfort.

 

Rhythm.  Relational.  Music is thehabitation of relational tone and structure and sometimes even dissonance.  Cultural dissonance.  Do you know that we compose mostly in C?  The drums and bells and gongs of theEastern world are for the most part tuned to C as well.  “Could it be that we are all as a planet trying to tune to the same vibrational harmonics?” Could this be the beginnings of ourunderstanding of the collective unconsciousness?  Vibrational frequency. Nature or nurture?  In what waysdoes this serve to define and describe the ways in which we see things differently, to the beat of another drum? What is the explanation for being attuned to a different harmonic scale?  Surely future science will help to informus.

 

Rhythm.  The neonate.  Theinfant.  Full of possibilities, to be somuch determined by nurturance and love. To love a child, to touch a child, to sing to a child is to mold theircircuits, the synapses of their being to be able to accept love and to givethem the gift of critical thinking.  Itis the programming of the computer, the laying down of the foundation; it isthe beginning of their own circle of life.

 

Math and music are processed inproximate areas of the brain. Abstractions, critical thinking, pathways laid down to solve andresolve, critical thinking.  One ofthose abilities that helps to define the tools of man.

 

Rhythm.  And music, yes music is transcendent.  Who among us has not been transported to the divine?  In the world of technical parlance, musichas been linked to the areas of the brain reserved for biologically relevant,survival related stimuli.  And thoseshivers down the spine of ecstasy.

[6] It expands beyond our conscious space andinto the world of possibility and hope and dreams.  To hear the chanting of the monks high atop the mountain, tolisten to the choir in St Paul’s cathedral, it is to be like a bird and soar tothe heavens on the wings of God.  It isto connect with that most beautiful part of humanity, the divinity ofcreation.  And so, even with theknowledge of the power of creation and destruction, man’s inhumanity to man,music restores us in our relationship to self, to our higher power, to thebeauty that is life as we are allowed to experience it unfolding.

 

Rhythm.  It is the beat, the autumnal cadence, the fire of spring, it isbeginnings and endings, the circle of life. If all constructs are based upon the premise of a healthy brain is onethat is utilized and maximized, the extrapolate from this:

 

A child’s most critical point inlife, the time when these neural connections are laid down is from 0 to 3 years– maybe even conception to 3 years, but as yet, we do not know thoughpreliminary testing does seem to validate the importance of prenatalstimulation.7 Music and math require the same abstractionsof thought.  Through PET(positron-emission-tomography) scans of the brain it has been shown that thecortex area of the brain is stimulated while listening to complex musicalforms, such as Mozart.  Testing scores,such as the SAT are demonstrating the ability of children exposed to the artsas being more able to engage in critical thinking.  In  1995 children who hadstudied the arts for over four years scored 59 points higher on the verbalportion of the SAT and 44 point higher on the math portion as compared tochildren with no such coursework.8 And we are never too old to learn, tostimulate our brain, to continue to maintain these neural pathways.

 

It has been said that from thetime of the ancients, Plato and Aristotle to name but a few, that the healingpowers of music have been recognized. Since post World War I and II we have used music as a healing tool inthis country.  The beginnings were withthose men that we sent out into the world to be our warriors and ourprotectors.  They came back home fromhorrors that most of us will never, ever imagine.  Mustard gas, cries of the wounded, the living/breathing fury ofbattle.  And music, yes music was usedto touch these men, to show them that even through where they had been and whatthey had seen; there was still the possibility of beauty and healing in theirlives.  For what they now witnessed wastheir ability to still be touched most deeply and profoundly through theprofound lyrical beauty of music.  Thatsoul connection that music inhabits.

 

And so forward we havemoved.8  In 1950 the National Associationfor Music Therapy was founded. The possibilities for music in healing seemto be limitless.  We have found thatstroke patients who have lost the ability to speak can often more easily learnto sing their words, sentences and thoughts – thus allowing them “improve thefluency of their speech.” Thinkof it as a sort of rewiring of the brain, the temporal house of our soul.

 

Rhythm.  In healing.  It is our“big external clock.”9 Take it back to the images of our DNA, tothe linear relationships, to the synchrony of movement with the beat, with therhythm, into patterns and shapes and forms. A hand keeping time. A reigning inof emotions to a positive realm for an adolescent living beyond despair – thatmoment to connect back to a self evoked with the aid of music, to happiertimes.  Beneath the layers of what wecan consciously detect, it is possible to see the changes reflected in the PETscans.  A consciousness layered beyondthat which we can discern.  We are trulycomplex creatures capable of processing vast amounts of information.

 

Rhythm.  The underpinnings of music. To put us in the mood, to fuel our desire, to calm us down and toestablish our belonging to the tribe of humanity.  To witness the depths of mans’ inhumanity to man, the firstbreath of a newborn or the last whisper of our beloved. At core, we are allbuilt with the same materials.  It ishow our neural pathways are laid down, our ability to think, to create, toproblem solve and our relationship to the world that makes each of us uniquelygifted.

 

The world is silent but for the beating of my heart.  And then I listen.  And then I hear.  Rhythm.

 

(While some of the science behind this has since been disproved, the topic is still worthy of some thought...)

1Man Ray, Photographer/Painter

2Gray Matter:  The Arts and the Brain,2002.  Dana.org

3Karen DeBord, Ph.D., Brain Development, 1997. National Network for Child Care.

4Sandra J. Ackerman, Listen to This!  HowMusic Affects Your Brain.

5 Susan Alexjander, M.A., The Infrared Frequencies ofDNA Bases, as Science and Art.
6 Robert J. Zatorre & Anne J. Blood, Intenselypleasurable responses to music correlate with activity in brain regionsimplicated in reward and emotion, 2001. Montreal Neurological Institute.

7Alladi P, Wadhwa S, Singh N., Effect of prenatal auditory enrichment ondevelopmental expression of synaptophysin and syntaxin 1 in chick brainstemauditory nuclei, 2002.  Department ofAnatomy, All India Institute of Medical Sciences, New Delhi, India.

8Karen R. Nelson, The Music of Healing, National Endowment for the Arts.

9 Dr Thaut, Gray Matter:  The Arts and the Brain, 2002. Dana.org

Dear President Obama - Please Give Them Back Their Money

 

Dear President Obama,

I have a simple idea that would put money directly into the hands of some of the people who could use it the most.

I live in California.  It is not uncommon for me to be somewhere on the streets in the San Francisco Bay Area and to hear the conversations of people who have just lost their job, their home, their healthcare – essentially, all that they had worked so hard for.  You hear these all the time, I know.

I see lone women living in parked cars in public areas.  A few years ago when I traveled to India and saw the poverty, I remember thinking to myself, “There but for the grace of God or an accident of birth go I.”  And now my empathy and compassion deepens even further as I see this suffering coming to our own country in unthinkable proportions.

I live in an area where the unemployment was already at 15.5% in April 2009 – I’ve recently heard it’s over 25% in my neighborhood.  I’ve read many stories of people who have just given up hope – I see it in their faces as I walk down the streets.  What I see is more desperation, more homelessness and more resignation.  Yes, stimulus is coming, but it has to trickle down through the corporations that have put us in this stranglehold to begin with.

In my view, this whole meltdown began as a debt crisis.  Credit was being given out hand over fist and foisted on everyone.  Yes, it was not wise to accept what could not be repaid, but as we are painfully aware, far too many people did just that.  The American Consumer just filled up on debt never thinking that a growth cycle may turn to a contraction cycle. 

And now, when so much Federal money has been directed to credit markets to ease this credit crisis, the credit rules are so stringent that many businesses have no access to money.  One local green builder just went out of business because though they had plenty of work, none of the projects could get bank loans.

It seems to be that certain industries charge fees that have no substantive relationship to the services provided.  Yes, some new credit card regulations were recently passed, but did you know that one of their latest schemes around the legislation is to say the credit card has been compromised by fraud, reissue a new card and then begin charging a 25% interest rate even though the old card had a much lower rate?  When did bank fees become profit centers to the banks and an ever-larger drain on the American pocketbook?  The problem with all of this is that the people who can least afford it are those who are charged the highest fees.

I have digressed.  These are larger issues than I believe I can solve here.

Right now, here’s how we could really make a difference to some of the people who really need help:

Create a temporary waiver of the penalty for the early withdrawal of retirement funds.  Further,  apply it retroactively to the point at which this crisis began.  This will give back money to the people who have already had to raid their savings.  This way, they receive all the money that was theirs to begin with.  For those who’ve already paid the tax, give them an immediate refundable credit.

Mr. President, I would submit to you that these are extraordinary times.  I agree with you that we don’t want people to cannibalize their retirement savings, but for many people, this has been their only option to survive.  If an individual has been brought to the point of desperation and forced to cash in their 401K (or other retirement accounts) – shouldn’t we waive this penalty in these most difficult of times? Do we really want the United States Government to benefit from this most desperate act?

With all that we have given to the corporations, can we not do something for the common man and woman in America?  It is my belief that this would be a stimulus package that would truly help some of those who need it most. 

A Great Day For Up - At Golden Gate Park










Maker Faire 2009 - San Mateo

In case you missed it, here are a few of my favorite things from this year's Maker Faire:




















































Ghost Dreams

Conjuring up the past...


Ancestral voices...



Ancestral footsteps...




Drums pounding an eternal rhythm on the wind...


More on the meaning of is...

Chai Tea, home brewed and organic of course...

Fresh ginger sliced thinly

Cardamon pods pounded

Finest cinnamon stick

Peppercorns

Cloves
 
and Fortnum & Mason Organic Assam Tea of course...

Brewed and steeped on the back burner of the stove - aromatic...

The meaning of is...

To Be...

Danger