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Exhortation to Myself
And with the day I had, it was a good thing I started the day with practice and reminders.

- Art and Culture | Community and Family | Food for the Body | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Gardening | Photos
The Photographer’s Dilemma (and “Morning Sprout Sandwich”)
At which point I put down the camera and ate. Uma turned her back and looked out the garden.
Morning Spout Sandwich–whole grain toast, tahini, avocado, assorted homegrown sprouts, fresh herbs picked the moment before garnishing (dill shown here), a sprinkle of sea salt (optional)
Shiva Nataraja
This murti of Nataraja has been in the window of a store near where I work for at least 20 years. I often walk past is and just as often stop to admire it. I have never really considered taking it home, lovely as it is. The murti is simply too large for any of my rooms. I have mentioned its needing a home to a couple of different friends, who were looking for large murtis of Nataraja, over the past few months, but none have followed through.
Today, when I was walking past it on a lunchtime walk to the bank, I noticed a “commercial property for rent” sign in the window. I will miss having this resplendent image in my work neighborhood, but not enough to buy it and bring it home. I decided, though, to take a photograph. I know the owner only very casually, but well enough to know he is retiring, rather than being driven out by rising rental costs or the recession. The neighborhood has gotten trendier since Nataraja first appeared in the window. Nataraja might be replaced with a delicious restaurant or a fabulous store purveying things that entice me. Or the space could stay vacant or be used for something that holds no interest for me whatsoever.
Nataraja–lord of the dance of concealment and revelation, of dissolution and manifestation–is dancing here. The murti will be sold or transported away when the shop closes and will physically be gone.
I will have my memories of the image, a photograph I took with my BlackBerry, and will have had a sweet opportunity to observe the lord of the dance dancing away his own image.
Louise Bourgeois at the Hirshhorn
The other day, I went to see the Louise Bourgeois retrospective at the Hirshhorn. The works are a combination of exquisite technique and in-your-face, challenging emotions. I had a friend who raged at me once because I had created a piece that was radically, polemically feminist. “That’s not art; art is only meant to be beautiful and aesthetic, not to be political,” said my friend. Although he could not have questioned Bourgeois as an artist — her technique is too good — he might still have raged at it. (The high school group being shown art on a field trip, while I was at the exhibit, was scurried through a room or two, much to my amusement).
Seeing the exhibit led me to think of the purported purpose of left-handed tantric practices, which are meant to challenge us, turn us upside-down and inside out, and question what we recognize as the divine.



