the bear hug

this was a week to wrap up in my arms and hold tight for long minutes. this week deserves a big bear hug of generous love. the kind that keeps going, arms shifting, necks curling in toward each other, skin holding on too. this week deserves to be savored and held up to the sky to see through and again and again and again because the people adorning the hours, the ones i got to sit across from between last sunday to this one, they make it one of the richest weeks i have had in a long time.

it was a week of changing tides. it was a week of encouragement and words and spontaneity and bitter sweetness. but most of all, it was a week to remind me what my life truly is here, how it can change in the course of one conversation or one meal, and what direction i might need to go next. i know there are losses ahead of me and at the very least changes, but i feel a peace swell up even in the face of these shifting lines and all i can do is hug tighter and longer and sweeter with a pause to pull back, look out and say yes.

and as the sun comes up over the horizon on a new week, it brings with it the clarity i have long been praying for and the realization that my life is rich and filled with wonderful people. i just need to slow down and savor it more often, which can be as simple as giving it a big bear hug, especially when it surprises me with a bear hug of its own, catching me by surprise, and keeping me grateful. so completely grateful.

housemates for a night

they talked over one another, one joke running into the next, laughter tying it all together in a neat bow on my back porch. the chinese lanterns were on. mojitos poured. and the night unfolded so perfectly,  so unexpectedly, to think i had almost let it slip me by.

a few hours before i had been sitting at dinner with four men i had never met before in my life. these four aussies converged earlier this week on spokane, washington with their newly purchased motorcycles which was the starting point of their trek down hwy 101 to los angeles. stops along the way include cape flattery, a moto guzzi shop where the premier guzzi mechanic works, and seattle, to visit me.

this last agenda item is solely because of one, random little website, that came and went several years ago called ten15am. it was a site dedicated solely to posting photos that anyone from around the world could submit as long as it was taken at 10:15am. it's a simple concept that was playful and fun, but also created many lasting connections to people i still am in contact with now, over 4 years later. it's amazing what you can learn about someone just from a regular cross section of their life put on display to the world. there was the father of two who traveled to turkey early on in my participation*, the well-heeled audiophile from melbourne*, the graphic designer from london with a cheeky sense of humor*, and the woman from the midwest who always photographed the same little figure on a box of matches, just to name a few.

and then there was scruff. the aussie from sydney with motorcycles, good taste in literature, and a massive beard. unlike some of the others, we never really got into the extensive email dialogue i have with the starred ones above, but he did express a particular joy at posting photos of passages from his current book to see if i could figure out what he was reading. he was also always happy to play along at whatever game we partook in on the site {my favorite being the alphabet game -- each day the 10:15am photograph featured a subject or caption starting with a and moving through the alphabet}.

on a whim {because i often get postcard sending whims}, i sent him a postcard a year ago that featured hwy 101 in washington state and i was surprised to get a reply that he would be out this way in 2013 and we should grab a pint. but i pint with scruff became dinner with the gang and five of us sat down to a meal of mostly friend chicken and beer at skillet diner last night. while we were there, discussions on where they would stay for the night ranged from the arboretum {no, they'll kick you out of there} to a last minute rental of a houseboat when i chimed in spontaneously, apologizing for the hardness of my hardwood floors, and offered up my generous space to their sleeping bags and sleeping pads.

and that's how my dinner mates became housemates for a night. and what a night it was. really. i've been writing here for about 2 hours, pitching every start, second guessing every paragraph because i can't assemble everything that this night was.

it was more than just a sum of their well-worn-in camaraderie, more than just the joy that a night of deep laughter can account for, more than just the gentle surprise any time these men, who can barely speak without playfully talking over one another, quieted down like gentlemen and listened to me tell a story or add my bit. it was definitely more than just a few lemonata mojitos made at the encouragement of brad, the un/official captain of the bunch. more than the generous compliments for my home and space they all made. and more than just the gratitude for being given an impromptu place to stay for a night. somehow, quicker than i could follow, i got let in on this band of friends quite alike one another yet so unlike me, and still i was welcomed in by open hearts and big laughs and that is all it took to bring our kindred spirits together.

scruff in his lounging glory. 

i really wish i had gotten portraits out there of them all.

the jokes about the effects lake water on the digestive system, totally okay. the ride on scruff's triumph down to lake washington to admire the stretch of the cascades from baker to rainier, absolute bliss. and i earned my badge by carrying the case of beer home with one arm secured around the box while balancing on the back of the bike and praying the cop we drove by wouldn't realize there was something funny about scruff's headlight. we hung out all night on my porch with a show and tell of the footage from the day, hoping we were talking quietly enough for the neighbors, and discovering that scruff, introduced this cocorosie song to his teenage daughters. at some point there was even a short duet sung by the brothers {scruff and lachlan are related if you can't tell from the below photo}.

i went to sleep listening to the chorus of snores from my living room and briefly considered closing the swinging door between the dining room and the hall, but fell asleep before i could.

waking up this morning and traveling from bedroom to bathroom in my pjs, my hair standing up on its end, i paused long enough to admire the state of the kitchen: hugh working his way through the eggs i had promised them, making breakfast for us all. earl grey was steeping in mugs on the counter. unusual on a work day, i sat down to a meal and let the morning stretch over more stories and one amazing egg sandwich. i wanted a refill of my tea and linger at least another 12 hours with them all, but the day and my job called me forward, the road calling out to them.

and here they are below, the lot of them lined up, ready for their adventure, unaware of how incredibly empty the house would feel later on today.

i consoled myself today by going through the photos i hastily snapped as they packed up, doling them out one by one on instagram. reliving snippets of stories. it has been something to hold onto as i think about why exactly, last night was so wonderful, and why, exactly, that kind of wonder and joy doesn't happen more often in my life.

sitting across from one of my best friends tonight at dinner, telling her a bit of the tale, we laughed together every time a song looped through on the restaurant's soundtrack that just happened to be the same instrumental song lachlan's computer used for the photo slideshows on my porch just 24 hours previous. she reminded me that i have a knack for the sort of magic and synchronicty that made last night happen and that it portends a promise of more joy and more opportunity to come.

yes, please.

but tonight, i'm just a bit lonely, feeling like the house is too quiet/ missing my new friends.

left to right: hugh, lachlan, capt'n brad, scruff

scruff packing up to head out.

#8

i sent the first email in the wake of seeing thom last spring. put into words something surprising and tender. something i was so grateful to the universe for giving me when i hadn't even thought to ask. but the silence that was returned was puzzling. i had been so certain we had been reading from the same page, so where did our stories split?

i agitated {gently} as i always do. worried and second guessed, and was finally given the wise words: if he's important, he isn't far.

almost a year later now, each simultaneously nudging a mutual friend to do something we both knew we should just ask for ourselves, friends and facebook have come through for us and here we are: in connection. just as we ought to be.

finally, radiohead friend #8 has joined the family stepping into a comfortable spot that i didn't even realize i was still keeping warm for him.


1. mike
2. jason
3. chris
4. jim
5. steve
6. lauren
7. matt
8. shervin
9. kevin


currently listening to: the light - the album leaf

how to disappear completely

i'm actually a bad one to give advice on disappearing
because my failure is showing up
repeatedly
and asking you to do the same.
but always just in time to watch your charade slink away into
nothing.
i'll keep quiet, i promise
the shame of your hasty retreat just another
and another
and another
to the list.
but don't try and convince me for a second
that something didn't change.
i've been sold that evasion too many times before.
though still not cautious,
at least i trust my instincts this time
so now the only thing i have left to hold
is gratitude that i now have the strength
to do the thing i should have done a long time ago.

..............................................................................................................

how to disappear completely - radiohead

{at one point thom said that this was the most beautiful thing that they had ever written. wonder if that's still true.}

that there
that's not me
i go
where i please
i walk through walls
i float down the liffey
i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

in a little while
i'll be gone
the moment's already passed
yeah it's gone
and i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

strobe lights and blown speakers
fireworks and hurricanes
i'm not here
this isn't happening
i'm not here
i'm not here

recovering a sense of safety - pt 3

as i wrap up the first week's exercises, i just want to finish up with one last activity. in slogging through all the ghosts of my past, i also want to acknowledge and honor all the amazing, life and art affirming influences i have experienced. thank you. thank you. thank you. and thank you again:

lindy--fiona's mom. she was the first person who took me, a 5 or 6 year old, seriously growing up and would call me nathania, instead of the hacked-up nick name i abhorred {and, you should note, still do}, tania.

mrs. tolsin--5th grade teacher who was the first person to encourage my writing. she selected my essay about laura ingles wilder to go to the region-wide writing competition and that was the only time i beat out anand periyadeth in anything that year.

mrs. landoni--6th grade teacher. she adored my drawings and even asked to keep my robin hood project which i saw on display years later when i went to visit her class.

mr. fram--8th grade advanced english teacher. he's here mostly for that look he would give me when i was on to something insightful. i could barely speak up in class at first, but his look...it just sparkled when i would bring up an idea from far left. we spent days on just two-pages of borges and there were only two or three of us even able to follow the ideas of the discussion. i was one of them. and i had recently skipped up from 7th grade. when did i stop being so insightful, or do i just hang out with more intelligent people now?

mr. jenes--10th grade english teacher. pretty much all the same things i just said about mr. fram, but even more so because now we were analyzing james joyce instead of borges and i was the only one speaking in class. he would talk to other teachers about me and in a good way. and, to be noted, in a simple class exercise he also helped me realize how much beauty is important to me. one of my top 3 things in life. he also strongly encouraged both my creative and analytical writing

mr. olson--the art troll. a fantastic fantastic art teacher. i had him for a few years in a row i think.

mrs. matthews--she was the first person who put a camera in my hands. she was subbing for the 7th grade science class and for some reason she picked me to take photos of clouds for the day's lesson. stratus. cumulus. they were my first photographs.

becky--she was a grad student teacher at wash u and i had her for my photo 1 and 2 classes. art school was tough freshman year but her classes most likely saved me from dropping out. they were easy in a way that the work just eased out of me. it was natural and fun. probably the reason i ended up majoring in photography.

greg--the modern lit teacher ellie and i took a class with in australia. he loved our writing, as different as it was.

my writing for film teacher--the way he never gave out compliments except the day he passed back my dialogue-less script. he mentioned how it didn't have any dialogue and i said "well, i don't know dialogue but i do know visual art and he replied "well this {and he tapped my script to his hand twice}, this is visual art..."

melody--my very first acting teacher who assumed i had acted before because i had such a presence.

nandi--for her golden, vibrant presence that believes in me from afar and i know always has and always will.

georgia--the dean of students at washington university art school. she was the sole reason i returned to wash u after a year abroad and a year off. i had so many ghosts of failure to face from that first year and she was the only reason i could could consider going back. she speaks truth so wisely and with the utmost care to the humanity of others.

richard--even though i didn't realize it at the time, he's the reason i needed to come back to wash u. he is one of my most influential mentors of all time. my photography professor even though at the time that title wasn't official. i can't begin to say enough here, but he gave us all so much. gave me so much in that gentle, quirky way of his. he changed the way i think about and make art.

jenn--his teaching side kick. another neglected rock star of the art school.

david--my dancing professor who radiates beauty. and i don't just mean he was attractive, though he was that too. it just emanates from his every movement. and he loved and encouraged how wacky i was in class. i cut loose in a way very few people get to see.

j--for thinking i was sexy and becoming a good friend, too. {<---and no, this isn't he "j" of my big ex j}.

caroline f--an acting friend from australia. she took me seriously when others didn't.

robert--an official art mentor and someone who has stood up for me more than most any other two people in my life combined. even if he did it silently. i have a debt to you i still want to repay.

mom--for always being there. always. always. always. as best and as lovingly as you are able.

ede--there are no words for how much you have given me.

oh my goodness and let me not forget robin lynn smith--my meisner acting teacher who's greatest compliment was a direct look in the eye and one single nod, and yet her love and support and encouragement for us was so present. so huge.

and george lewis--my first real acting teacher. what a character. what a force. i want to come back and be in a piece you direct. i have grown so much and i want to share that. thanks for that smile after closing night.

between seneca & spring

he was really sly about it--this appearance of casual movement--as he shifted from his part of the sidewalk to mine.

even so, it warned me to take a step to the right which wasn't enough as soon as he adjusted another half step toward me.

without looking at him i yielded the sidewalk entirely only to be rewarded with his arm slapped across my chest as he passed.

i pivoted in anger, fierce words swearing silently in my head and violent thoughts suggesting themselves to my fists,
and i watched in frozen indecision as he kept walking purposefully forward as though he were heading to the bank to catch it before it closed.

a few blocks later i stopped at stumptown for a suddenly absolutely necessary soy hot chocolate and mighty o donut. out of the remnants of shock i relayed the story to the barista and his friend and was given a far more satisfying rewarded of much sympathy, several gentle jokes and a free hot chocolate and donut.

faith is restored and i left feeling the world wasn't a complete pit of blackness, but there is part of me that still wants to go back and pummel the man.

they call him mr. buttons

saturday was a stay at home, be lazy and make pancakes for breakfast day. it was good and much needed. the week of heatwaves, moving boxes and fanless nights had taken a cumulative toll and it has been an extra long time since he and i have had time together when one or the other {or both} of us haven't been exhausted out of our minds and bodies.

so, we had a leisurely morning involving aforementioned pancakes and then we slowly meandered into closet cleaning. i put on an extended show and tell and he helped me get rid of a garbage bag full of clothing. sometimes a little encouragement goes a long way.

by 4pm i was getting a little stir crazy and sifted for some incentive to get out of the house that didn't require a copious {read: any} amount of money and landed on the easy, catch all solution: walk down to the antique store on the waterfront to go button shopping. at ten for a dollar i can splurge and only spend a few bucks, maybe five, so we put on our walking shoes and trekked down the hill.

despite running headlong into a wall of exhaustion about three blocks from my apartment {my adrenals were super taxed out during my time on the farm}, we made it down uneventfully, albeit a little too sunnily according to some people.

i walked back to the huge basin that holds the store's button collection only to find it almost entirely empty. even though i was glad to be out and moving around a bit, it was a sad sad day that i couldn't indulge my button collecting genes. after double checking the neighboring aisles to make sure the collection hadn't migrated to a new location, i took his very good advice and asked the people behind the counter if they knew what had happened to the buttons. true to my insticts, someone had swooped down on it, spent $120 and cleaned out the house.

but

he had a new supply in back. a tin he had recently purchased after a split second decision so i got to happily spend fifteen minutes of my life sifting through one handful at a time. the worker pointed out this button and that button, speculating one is from the 1920's and another is made of resin, or wood, or what have you. i kind of tuned out his helpful suggestions of what a cool button was since they tended to clash with my very particular aesthetic i can't put into words, and eventually he stopped trying to be helpful and let me sift and sort in peace.

it was a good trip, despite not living up the the big $17 haul i made shortly after finding this source. those buttons are the pinnacle of my collection, but i guess these little handfuls help flesh out the collection a little bit at a time. and there are some gems i nicked this time around and for a steal as well. i knew i had close to 40 buttons, but he kept on insisting it was about three dollars worth, so i accepted his deal, smiled and we headed back up the hill for a celebratory he's done moving dinner from a little tucked-away-to-the-point-of-near-invisibility fish 'n chips bar that opens at 5pm and obviously caters to the local bars' late night clientele. good food though. particularly eaten out in the park under the shady trees.

it wasn't till long after we got home again, probably some point after we watched coraline together on my bed {where buttons are featured rather prominently, coincidentally enough} that he told me about a little exchange that happened in the store. one of the workers {there were two of them bantering around} came up to him while i was happily pouring over the tin of buttons and had asked: "are you mr. buttons?" and he just smiled and nodded yes.

mr. buttons. i like it.

and it's a day later and it still makes me smile.

catching up....

behind on many things, meisner most prominently among them, but here are the last week {plus} of suns and skies.

..........................scruff in sydney {a new player!!!!}

....................................sahra in sydney & melbourne & sometimes in between

.........................................................cameron in ontario

......................................me in seattle

m & n

m is for magnificent man

n is for nicknames: nat, nate, nathy, nut & nut(h)ania

currently listening to: a radiolab program on sperm - currently discussing paternity tests.
http://www.wnyc.org/flashplayer/player.html#/play/%2Fstream%2Fxspf%2F111031

nathania no shame tenwolde

http://www.ten15am.com/?p=9262#comment-16084

two other images also apart of this story:

http://www.ten15am.com/?p=9411

and

http://www.ten15am.com/?p=9390

a year of connections

i think i can trace out my path this year simply by looking back at the people i met (or re-met):

{told in chronological order as best as i could manage with the help of my iphone}

jaimini h. - the tail end of last december
and into january and a bit beyond.
i have no more words.

ross e. - continually unfolding
our friendship. san diego x2,
ballard, drive down to oregon,
und so weiter.

nasrin s. - a lovely 10 months
of sharing a house with you.
spelt cookies. aras. hair cuts.
green hair.
neighbors.

lee l. - a movie script introduction
in the loo line at nick's pizza soiree.
perfect for the movie addicts we are.

melissa m. - it had been years.
and what an easy distance
it was between then and now.

sheree g. - instant connection
slowly unfurling.
i'm so glad we arrived.
to the years ahead, darling.

kathy & tom - i can never get enough
of my mom's family. and what a lovely
visit to colorado. sky. hikes. scrambling.
fruit. chats. writing. marvelous.

robin lynn s. - to one who has expanded
my mind since the moment we met for the first time.
and who continues to facilitate movement in still places.
every. single. class.

george l. - a brilliant and intuitive director.
you guided us to independence.
i will never forget that smile.

the cast of the play -
(will, jenn, jesse, eva, bill, fred, jon, morrie)
thank you thank you thank you.

jenn h. - you helped me crack
open lorriane. your presence is a gift
and your successes a dare for me to do better.

w. h. - i hold you gently.
you reveal my shame,
but i also softly watch you carry
a good dose of your own.

jon l. - scrabble. car pool.
scrabble. scrabble. scrabble.
and more srabble.

n. h. - re
cover(y). for us both.
this year has seen us walk some parallel paths.
thank you for letting the door be opened.

mike h. - radiohead.
pyramid song & the gloaming.
texts. emails. music. life. vibrancy.

jason i. - santa barbara.
lines. sun. the pit.
radiohead. radiohead. radiohead.

chris f. - santa barbara.
radiohead. texts.

jim ?. - i still don't know your last name.
but you continue to surprise me.
and you gave me the gift
of letting me surprise myself.

my entire meisner class -
(the cast minus fred, plus az, tom, unyoung,
monica, rebecca, luce, iesha, ryan)
you call me forward. moment by moment.

tom s. - musicmusicmusic.
you are a gentle spirit. open. and generous.

eva a. - you are a grounded. gentle.
strong. present. courageous being.
and you hold me so gently.

justine w. - six years and one hemisphere later.
you're still a pal. your cooking is still magic
and your laugh is still golden.

jesse p. - you were in my first class
with george moving towards two years ago.
but i see you in a whole new way.

az s. - nut. and sososo much more.

artist's way group -
(justin, matthew, molly, robert)
yes.

cameron h. - i'm so glad you sent that first message.
to photos at 10:15am. and emails.
and travel. and trunks. and music.
and connection. and sunshine.

sahra z. - your images make my
spirit stir. seagulls. 10:15am. and red.
with or without shoes.

david l. - 10:15am. and story telling.
and big ideas filled with life.

dennis & yvonne d. - you introduced me
to my new home.
and help make it a joy.

jeff w. - thanks to your email
we spanned the years gracefully.
like two dancers arching their backs
and looking over their shoulder
to smile at someone they never forgot was there.

mark j. - to beauty. and writing.
and memory/ies.

andrew j. m. - yet another span of a year
plus or minus. the stories we've lived.
the stories we're living. and those we have yet to record.

aaron k. - you came out of no
where and yet still somehow
a somewhere/when. and i'm
glad your here to stay for a while.


and to those who have walked many years with me: eden. lj. mom. dad. sibs. robert. katie. john. richard. sylwinn. laura. raelyn. michael. christine. martin. karina.

i am very blessed.

cameron and sun-saturated skies

meet cameron everyone:

he is a fellow ten15am.com regular and one who i have shared a steady trickle of emails about painting, recipes, photography, music, travel, the artist's way, scones, cake, stories and more.

he is one of the random connections of the cosmos {as opposed to "universe", see hillman's the practice of beauty} that remind me that we live in a small world filled with people of great spirit.
he has recently been traveling through turkey this past week so, and after sending several wonderful images, many of them sunny, i submitted this image to ten15am.com with the below title:

i envy cameron's travel and his blue skies

and a few days later, he submits this making my eyebrows lift abruptly in surprise:

another blue sky for you nathania

{not just a blue sky, cameron. the sun made me intake a quick breath of air the first time.}

currently listening to: ipod on shuffle - fog - radiohead.

my letter to the director

we had a cast party a la potluck family dinner tonight. we eleven sat around a table and came together one last time. and it was............. and .....................and .................................................


too much to write now after not enough processing time, but here is what i just wrote to the director.


george~

so, after spending an hour in golden gardens decompressing, i was brushing my teeth and hit on what i was trying to articulate in our conversation. the brilliant thing about this smile you gave [after our last performance] was that it had no words and it had no answers. and of course, the thoughts running through my head at the time (underneath wow. Wow. WOW) were "what? say something. put it into words, etc..." but, like with your teaching, you don't give out the answers, you just tell us to go look for them (with an occasional nudge or two in the right direction). and your smile was my nudge to go find the successes that i know were there and knew in some part of my mind even as they were happening.

and know i do hear the importance and validity of your next challenge of finding the inner gage and voice of constructive criticism (sans perfectionist critic) that isn't dependent on another.

so thanks, yet again.

~nathania

notes from the director and my psyche*

genius george, the director: "nathania, is that how you seduce someone?!!?! be more seductive!!!"

nathania's inner monologue: jaowirjfslkfjslirjseilfsfuuuucklasdkkkkkfdddfffgetmeoutofhere! ican'tdothisinfrontofotherPEOPLE!alkfjwsdirjsdfksf.....!!!

i am seriously blushing on stage when i do this currently and it's about half of what he wants. maybe a quarter. not. fun.

shy nathania is still very present in me i guess. i thought/hoped she was mostly gone. at least this over-the-top-want-to-be-sucked-up-by-the-floor-and-beamed-to-a-parallel-universe sort of shy.




i guess this one thing just sticks me where i'm already sore. in two places: who the hell does she think she is trying to seduce this shorter, attractive guy?




*definition of psyche that adds an interesting and unplanned irony: a personification of the soul, which in the form of a beautiful girl was loved by eros.

;;.....................;................;...........................;...;

recently i've been mulling over a phenomenon i've noticed between myself and one of my friends. it's this mysterious process in which i am completely unable to be myself around them. they are a casual friend, so someone i don't see that often, but just enough that i have been able to articulate clearly what this feeling is: it's as though someone is taking sandpaper to my spirit and muting me, taking off the shine and flow of my self and tossing a duller, more cumbersome version of me in my place. a drab little doppelganger. when i am around them, i actually feel like an actor saying lines i haven't thought enough about. or perhaps i have thought too much, but haven't found any interesting insights, so i say the lines as though they were important, but all the while grossly aware of my sham.

i thought going to radiohead with them*, spending a day with them, seeing thom with them, etc, my radiohead self would emerge in full glory. the inspired, alive, vibrant, vivacious nathania that nothing can put a cap on, but even she was no where to be seen on that day. at first i was surprised that this person could be the trump card even to thom yorke, but on thinking through, i realized it was more an indication of where i am currently and how i held myself back this tour (more on that later), rather than an indication of how much i stifle myself around my friend. the one time i could be myself around them was during a night of drinking. i...ahem...remember a little less than normal, but i was told i was pretty gloriously myself that night.

simultaneously, i've had the opportunity to witness someone who i feel suffers from the above around me. i am not gentle with them where i would like to be. i am not patient. i feel like my boundaries are violated by them just through a simple question or statement they speak. and these things reflect back to me the effect i may have on this other person above. and my mind and body shy away from the implications.

one of the great benefits of interacting with this other friend of mine is that whenever i am around them, i no longer try to take care of them, do or say things for their benefit, or accommodate them in this. i am typically the grand accomodator, so this has actually been a significant step forward, even if it's taken within somewhat less than comfortable circumstances.


*yes, this makes it rather apparent who it is and if, by some offchance, you are reading this, n.a.w., don't take it personally, this is all me pal. actually, you really should take this as a compliment. so few people really truly intimidate me, which you do, despite all your congeniality.

currently listening to: the eraser - thom yorke & in rainbows - radiohead (but i had to skip over the reckoner. too potent still.)