A new way to paint . . .

Studying with Judi Whitton in Wales has given me a new lease on watercolor. The precision of my earlier botanical art study has helped me look at subjects more carefully and seems to have improved my drawing. Judi's technique of dropping in paint has encouraged me to be playful. Here is some of my recent work.










This is Sawrey House, a charming inn just a few miles from Hawkshead in the Lake District. This venerable and comfortable establishment was our home for a week. It is literally next door to Beatrix Potter's famous "Hill Top House" which has been lovingly persevered and is part of the National Trust in England. Potter bought over 4000 acres of land and gave it back to the English people in trust.

I sat outside one day and drew this lovely building covered in ivy.

From a Cottage in Wales

This is the view from our cottage in Wales, The Granary.
Miles of rolling hills with a thousand colors of green. Paradise, indeed. Ron and I have come to Wales for a rural adventure. So much of our travel in the past has been rushing around. This time we both agreed: "Let's go somewhere and BE there for a time." So we are renting this "self-catering cottage" miles from a paved road. We wake to the hens clucking and the family horses clomping down the cobblestones. Last night a nearly full moon rose over the hillside across the way which is the site of an iron age fort. Ron climbed the hill during one of his walks.

I am here to do some watercolor, and there is no shortage of subjects.

Last night I filled the tiny cottage with the smell of roasting potatoes and Welsh spring lamb chops in raspberry sauce. We are able to enjoy the fresh eggs laid by their dozen feisty hens, who have been gobbling down the table scraps which we drop in the compost pile near the henhouse.

The cottage is near the village of Bala, a Welsh town near a very large lake. We're not that far from the town of LLangollen famous for the yearly Welsh music and culture festival. We visited Plas Newydd, the 18th century home of some famous ladies, early trend setters in fashion and the arts.

Last week I took part in a wonderful course in watercolor painting with the artist, Judi Whitton. Her book, Loosen Up Your Watercolours is a brilliant guide to freeing your style as an artist. Here she is demonstrating her technique.


Her style of painting is very much in keeping with the spirit of improvisation so I found a kindred spirit.

Ron is enjoying running in the Welsh hills, meeting sheep, cattle and the odd farmer who look at him with wonder. In addition to his jaunts around the countryside he is spending time in local registry offices hunting down facts and figures of our ancestry. His genealogical database now holds just short of thirteen thousand of our closest relatives. We've spent quite a bit of our time walking in truly lovely small churchyards, observing gravestones.

Before coming to this part of North Wales we spend a few days in Hay on Wye, the village of BOOKS. When we leave our precious cottage we head for Blackburn and then the Lake District. We are staying in an Inn in the town where Beatrix Potter lived.


Here we stopped at a small cheese factory along the way. It was a charming teahouse as well and we savored the fresh lemon cake made by the owner.

The last image, which captures Wales for me is this of the family of sheep. Cheerio from the UK!

The Seven Ages of Woman

I stumbled across this artwork as I was trying to find the right wording for the famous, "All the world's a stage" quotation from Shakespeare. Wickipedia kindly provided it.

Seeing the progression of bodies and faces I was reminded of a wonderful montage that Patti Digh posted of herself on her blog.

I'm nothing, if not a copycat, so I decided I'd put together "the many faces of Patricia". Here goes:





So, there you have it: six months to 65! Life is amazing.

Trudy and Dalla

This is Dalla with her husband Jeremy in the photo on the left. That was a wonderful day. We were visiting the Asian Art Museum in SF. This happy time a few years ago was when they were "snowbirding," visiting California in retreat from their frigid Canadian winter and enjoying our sunshine and mild climate. They live in Gananoque, ON. Dalla is possibly my oldest friend, or rather the friend of greatest longstanding. She's a brilliant artist of life.


The other photo is of my other "best friend," Trudy. Trudy is also a Canadian, living in Calgary. She and her partner Gottfried run the Canadian Constructive Living Center.
Here she smiles with her daughter Meghan and her newborn granddaughter, Sophie. You can tell by everyone's smile that these folks appreciate life. They are a beautiful family.

In the past month, however, both Trudy and Dalla have received a cancer diagnosis. Both have begun chemotherapy. Both are adjusting to the interruption that this news carries into their daily lives. Both are smart, kind, and realistic. Both are surrounded by loving friends and family . . . AND, a network of unseen friends stretching across the planet, tied together by the Internet.

Last week I was corresponding with the amazing Patti Digh, whose award winning blog, 37 Days is a must read. I told her about my friend Trudy and her news. The next day Patti's blog invited readers to join her in wishing Trudy well by making a "god-box" and putting Trudy's name in it. The following day readers made suggestions of other names to add, including Dalla and Sean. This idea is now making its way around the world, and on April 4 Kate Iredale in North Saanich, B.C. blogged that she had started a box, too. I borrow her wonderful photo below. You will enjoy reading her blog. What I have discovered is a world of amazing, uplifting writing by women around the world, helping each other. I am indebted to them for joining me in sending a message of hope and support to these dear friends who are facing health challenges. And, I'd like to call your attention to the announcement of Patti's upcoming book, LIFE IS A VERB. It is possible to preorder this book from Amazon. I've had the chance to take a look at an advance copy of this remarkable book. Keep it on your radar. And, you might want to join us making your own box.

Noticing the gifts. . .

Recently I was invited by Google to give an author’s talk on Improv Wisdom. Walking into their Mt. View, California campus is like stepping into the future. The place is abuzz with things happening. Space is organized such that no employee is farther than a stone’s throw from a convenience station where free lattes, fresh squeezed juice and tasty snacks help these maven’s of creativity keep their blood sugar up. Doing purposive work and enjoying life appear to be hand in hand in their workplace. Here I am with Meng, the famous "Google guy."

Someone asked me if I had a favorite improv tip from the book, and what came to mind was the ninth maxim: “Wake Up to the Gifts.” As we improvise we discover that virtually everything around us is an offer, and upon examination the vast majority of these are truly “gifts.” The work of others is constantly supporting my efforts. I simply cannot function without the countless products and services provided by others. How easy it is to overlook this truth and take things for granted, or focus on what's wrong with the picture. I find that making lists of what I’ve received from others is an enlightening enterprise.

As introduction to my talk I chose to thank Google for the many “gifts” I had received using their products. So, I made of list of “what Google had done for me this week,” and shared it with the crowd. It was a pretty long list. I’m afraid that this took quite a long time, and I may have lost some of my audience before I got to the part about “how to improvise.” If you run into someone who says “thank you” a lot, you may well be around someone with Improv Wisdom. A skillful improviser doesn’t overlook the gifts.

Writing to Change the World

Browsing my local bookstore, the "chock full of good ideas"--Moon News in Half Moon Bay, CA I stumbled upon yet another book on writing. Frankly, this is the last thing I need to read these days. My shelf is overflowing with encouraging advice to writers. I have ALL the right books about what it takes to write, how to keep going when your critic tells you, "This is lousy. What on earth every made you think you could write, my dear?" Grand advice from all the famous writers. Who needs another pep talk. I just need to write. Right? Wrong. I needed to read this book.

This isn't another "Snap to it, girl. Sit down at a regular time and just "keep your hand moving" book. No, Pipher, a therapist and to my mind, an astute socialogist has written about WHY we, who are writers, must write. Grandious, yes. Writing to Save the World is a reminder that what each of us does matters, and that writing can change things, can help one human heart to make a better choice, can make a difference. Her wise and inspiring advice has put me back on track. Thanks, Mary.

Deep Economy a FIVE STAR read

Bill McKibben’s penetrating book, Deep Economy, posits the idea that neighborliness may well be the long term answer to global warming. Don't roll your eyes. If you know who McKibben is, it is likely that you will sit up and take note. In this carefully researched and reasoned treatise he points out that the unexamined cultural dictum of “more=better” is putting all of us on the fast track to misery. Unbridled consumption is leading us deeper and deeper into alienation and to what he terms “hyper-individualism.” Wealth is driving us into our separate boxes, monster homes and private dens. MORE is not making any of us more fulfilled. More is making us depressed. And, the more we have, the more isolated we have become from one another, from our communities, from our neighbors. Our huge gains in economic growth and development have come at a staggering price to the planet and also to personal happiness. Read this book to understand how all this has come about, or better yet . . . what to do about it.

It is his solution that I find wonderful—and if we thought about it—the most obvious. We have lost touch with each other. And, it is only in community, being in touch with each other--with our local environments that can provide a return to health and sanity, and in effect 'the good old days'. If economics's blind eye to common sense can be opened, then perhaps liberal and conservative, Democrat and Republican, atheist and religious can unite on a common theme: let us relearn how to be neighbors, to be neighborly. Think globally, eat and shop locally. His vision is an obvious and simple one in which there is a gradual shift to economies that are more local in scale, requiring fewer resources, and causing less ecological disturbance.

An example of how this might work can be found in a fascinating statistic. Sociologists studying shopping behavior reported “that consumers have ten times as many conversations at farmers’ markets as they do at supermarkets—an order of magnitude difference”(p. 105 ). The import of this is that a change in economic activity can produce an enormous change in social life. And aren't we really longing to be with others, but don't know how anymore? An awareness of interconnectivity and interdependence makes for a better life. McKibben shows us that this shift is doable!

The book reminds us of the old Chinese adage: "If we don't change the direction we're going, we will end up where we're headed."

This book fills me with hope and actually gives me some concrete ideas about how to be part of this revolution. Please read this book.

. . . which brings me to an overdue note of appreciation.

I have a debt of gratitude. I first learned about McKibben's life-changing book on the pages of Headbutler.com a remarkable resource. Jesse Kornbluth, former editorial editor at AOL and the genius behind this goldmine of wise advice, has become my person concierge of the good life. His reviews of books, movies, music and popular culture are lucid, funny and bulls-eye on target for what is worth knowing these days. You can trust his opinions. Do yourselves a favor and check out the web site, or better yet, sign up for his weekly post, which is an unobtrusive and entertaining "teaser" for his reviews of the week. His archives of the past three years are a smart person's reading list. I particularly love his "Lists" of books for special occasions. Right now he has Books of Summer 2007. A few weeks ago he posted Books for 2007 Graduation Gifts. Spend an hour browsing his site for the best shopping advice anywhere. With so many voices and advertisers telling us "what we MUST read" it is a relief to find a trustworthy and feisty friend who knows GOOD when he reads it, and shares his prodigious findings in wildly readable and short reviews. You will soon see why his title as Head Butler is perfect.

Patricia Ryan Madson May 25, 2007

Botanical Art

Early in March I signed up for an Introduction to Botanical Art class at the Filoli Gardens in San Mateo, not far from Woodside. My good friend and editor, Toinette Lippe, flew out from Manhattan to join me for this workshop and to catch up on our friendship.

You could call me a dabbler in art: I've taken various introductory classes and workshops over the years. Art relaxes me and gives me a private focus. For the most part my work has been impressionistic. A class in painting on silk over twenty five years ago gave me the tools to create washes on silk. I have gloried in watching silks dyes permeate the fabric. The "landscape" pictured here is an early piece. This one is small, the size of a 5 X 7 greeting card. I tear the silk pieces and glue them on cardstock.

For a year I have been trying to learn how to draw. I took a ten week class through Stanford's Continuing Studies program, but was longing for some solid technique in perspective and shape and line, etc. A classmate, who was already an artist suggested that I take a class with Catherine Watters at Filoli. I signed up for a March class that met for two days in the hope that I'd learn how to focus my attention on a subject and learn how to draw it. I was not disappointed.

We spent the entire first day on two drawings: one of a single cyclamen leaf and the other of a yellow pear. I'll attach my first drawings here. The cyclamen was done with graphite pencil alone, and the pear used colored pencils to achieve its brilliance.



I was pleased with the outcome. The class taught me more than the expected skill of careful observation. With botanical art the goal is to draw ones subject life-sized. A new tool is added: measurement. Using a caliper gizmo I was taught to take accurate measurements top to bottom and side to side. When I came home from the class I was so jazzed that I did a red pear that had been sitting in the fruit bowl. I've started a five week course in botanical perspective. The first day was learning how to draw a cylinder. This pencil drawing of an asparagus spear was the homework. Fun, eh?

More as my learning progresses. I am developing new eyes.

LOSAR Tibetan New Year February 18, 2007

Today is Losar, the Tibetan New Year. We discovered that we are not far from Tashi Choling, a Center for Buddhist Studies. This colorful building will house an empowerment ceremony this morning. We attended the ceremony with the resident lama and enjoyed a wonderful lunch. There was snow on the pass.

Losar Tashi Delek!

Ashland, Oregon in the Winter

February 17, 2007
It is our anniversary weekend. Ron and I were married on 2/18/1989 in St. Helena, CA at the Landor estate. We are celebrating our 18 married years by a road trip to Oregon and four nights in the Romeo Inn, a B&B with sumptuous breakfasts and overstuffed beds. We have tickets to the three preview nights of plays at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. As You Like It, The Cherry Orchard, and On the Razzle. Ashland is a town full of art galleries, book stores and upscale restaurants with names like "Dragonfly" and "Morning Glory". We like browsing the little shops. Yesterday we took a tour of Harry and David's manufacturing plant in Medford, Oregon. Seeing how a ton of "Moose Munch" is made was a treat. And, the raspberry truffles . . . oh, boy.

All three productions were first rate. Ashland will have a smashing 2007 season if these are the benchmark. Laird Williamson's On the Razzle was farce the way you dream of it--high energy and lots of doors slamming. This production will only get better with time since this kind of farce is all about timing and precision. The play is flawlessly directed and perfectly cast. It will undoubtedly be a sellout this year. If you are going to Ashland be sure to order seats for this play well in advance. Libby Appel's Cherry Orchard is Chekov perfectly done. He's the only playwright I know that writes scenes that make you laugh and cry in the same moment. Appel understands this and finds all the wonderful, rich comedy. The pathos is apparent, and never overplayed. The set design is masterful. I recommend all three plays, although I have to admit that As You Like It is not on my list of the Bard's favorites. It always feels overwritten. Still setting it in the Depression was a brilliant idea.

The Magic of Paying Attention to Others

January 21, 2007

I've just finished reading a wonderful book: TOP PERFORMER: A Bold Approach to Sales and Service by Stephen Lundin and Carr Hagerman. It's an unusual business book in that it is a fable about a burned-out salesman who finds a new lease on life and work by interviewing a street performer in London and a in Dublin. It may sound outlandish, but it works. The book, which is a very quick and delightful read, leaves us with some powerful truths about relationships and how to work with the public. The philosophy that is espoused is akin to improvisation: you must work with what is there, pay attention to those around you, take an interest in their wellbeing and always use your enviroment. Take advantage of the mistakes or unexpected happenings and always stay awake! It is a lovely book, and I highly recommend it.

And, while I'm on the subject of books, I'd also like to recommend a site that helps us find the lowest cost sites for buying a particular book. Check out http://www.BooksPrice.com It is a free service that helps you locate the best deals.


One more book recommendation: Philip Simmons' Learning to Fall:The Blessings of an Imperfect Life , Bantam Books, 2000, is a book that I find myself giving away time and again. He was an English professor and writer who found himself with a diagnosis of Lou Gehrig's disease at age 35. The book is his poem to life.
Simmons stories puts things into a perspective that makes sense, even in the face of unspeakable loss. It is a book I go back to whenever I need to get my thinking straight.

A Turkish Holiday

December 25, 2006
Christmas greetings to everyone! We are just days back from a thrilling trip to Turkey to attend the yearly celebration in honor of the great poet, Mevlana Celaleddin Rumi. The coming year marks the 800th year of the passing of this sage, and it was a special time in Konya, where each year on December 17th the sacred Sema is performed. This event is most well known as the ritual of the Whirling Dervishes. We had perfect seats to see this remarkable performance, where Dervishes dance to unite with God.

We were guests of INTEKNO CEO,Halil Kulluk and his warm family. We experienced hospitality that was rich in kindness and attention to detail. We spent time being welcomed into his family home and as his guest in Konya. On December 16th in Konya I took part in a wonderful symposium entitled: "Love, Science and Life" Conference. This symposium was organized as a joint venture with Selcuk University and the Intekno Group and took place at the luxurious Rixos Hotel in Konya.

Earlier that day we visited the shrine of Mevlana and paid respects at his tomb. I was moved by the depth of devotion exhibited by the crowds visiting the tomb. Several came over to me, took me by the hand and looked into my eyes with a warm welcome. One woman said to me: "I am from Iran; where are you from?" It was as if the love which the poet Rumi celebrates was everywhere, and was infusing the hearts of all of us. At the Symposium we were honored by remarks given by Esin Celebi Bayru, the 22nd generation descendant of Mevlana. The President of Selcuk University, Dr. Suleyman Okudan gave the welcoming remarks, and a paper on Rumi's relationship to other religions was given by Prof. Dr. Emine Yeniterzi, a renowned author and Rumi scholar. We were all entertained by a lively concert of dervish music by the Hosgoru Sazendeleri ensemble. Our host, Halil Kulluk gave an inspiring slide show entitled "Love, Innovation and Entrepreneurship under the Enlightenment of Rumi."

Joining our friends in Istanbul and journeying with them to Konya for this great event was a memorable experience. On the return to Istanbul we were feted by an evening of music in the concert hall of Bosphorus University. A standing ovation was well deserved. What thrilling music it was . . . a mix of ancient and modern themes, haunting and enlivening. Istanbul is a city of great energy and life and we were fortunate indeed to take part in this great celebration of Rumi.

Love can do anything

September 25, 2006
I received an email from my brother forwarding a story from, oddly enough, Sports Illustrated. I'll copy it here.

From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly

"I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck. Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars -- all in the same day(doing the Ironman Triathlon). Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much -- except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester , Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. "He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life," Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old, "Put him in an institution." But the Hoyts weren't buying it.

They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "there's nothing going on in his brain." "Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in His brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!"

And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that." Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. " then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks," that day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!" And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

"No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?" How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzz kill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together. This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083 rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992 -- only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time. "No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century." And Dick got something else out of all this too . Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago." So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life. Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day. That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy. "The thing I'd most like," Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

Please take four minutes to view this short, inspiring video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryCTIigaloQ
If you search "Dick Hoyt" inside of UTube there are several other short videos of this life affirming family.

This one is excellent: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D52rJd9GX10&mode=related&search=

The boy Buddha

September 19, 2006
What surprised me was how hard his little body felt to the touch. The white cardboard box that they put him in had sloping edges--a little like a coffin. It felt not heavy at all, but solid. When I opened the lid, his long hair, dark grey and dirty cream seemed just as it always had: soft, well groomed, a gentle color. And, then, when I touched his side, the body, instead of yielding as it normally does, felt dense, hard. I suppose this is what "rigor mortis" means, although I had not ever experienced it before. Buddha was lying on his side, curled as he had been so often, sleeping--something he had done often in recent years, as his 14 year old body adjusted to indoor life with a pampering family.

Nothing prepared me for the loss of my beloved companion, our Himalyan beauty, his royal highness, the boy Buddha. This was his official name, the one on his "papers." He had a mother who was a show cat. We neutered him early on, never going that route.

And, now he is gone.

On Sunday night as I was drying myself from a shower I noticed him darting around, making strange patterns as he moved. One leg seemed to buckle under as he tried to change location. After each lunge he would raise his shoulders and retch forward. Something was clearly wrong. Between moves he would meaow furtively. Had he broken a leg bone jumping down from the sink where he drank from the faucet? I called Ron, who swept him up into his arms, cradling him.

What do you do with an animal that has a broken leg in the middle of the night on a weekend? Are there "Pet Emergency Wards"? Yes, fortunately, there are. But the closet one was a half hours drive over the hill and north toward the city. After calling the facility and getting directions we bundled into the car. I drove since Ron was good at holding the frightened, trembling body of our "boy." He cried out almost continually. At that time we didn't realize that it was likely from pain rather than annoyance at being held against his will. Halfway there he started panting with his mouth ajar, eyes wild, making little clucking sounds. Something profound was happening. My heart began to feel numb as the possibility that this ride might be his last occurred to both of us.

At the Emergency Pet facilty an attendant took him immediately and we waited in the dim anteroom, holding hands and worrying. A young Asian women with a perky short legged black dog was waiting for test results. Her pooch was peeing blood, she confessed. I must say he looked frisky and cheerful, if indeed he was sick.

At last we were brought back to wait in an examining room. Buddha was still cloistered somewhere being examined. After a very long time, a large middle aged, overweight woman in a blue dress came in and told us that the exrays showed that Buddha had had a stroke, and that the prognosis was poor that he would recover. "He is very likely to stroke again at any time," she said. He would need to be hospitalized and given intravenous pain medications and watched continuously, she explained without emotion. Of course our alternative was . . . we filled in the blank, "to put him down." I think that was what Ron said. He then remarked that this was such an odd incorrect phrase. Euthanasia, is the proper term. "Putting him to sleep," the euphamism. Ron and I looked at each other. We had discussed this long ago and had agreed that letting him go would be kinder than keeping him alive under duress and indignity if the time ever came. And it had come.

And, putting him to sleep was what it was, actually. We sat with him for a short time, stroking him and weeping quietly, saying goodbye to our closest friend. The vet, who never introduced herself, returned with several syringes. Buddha sat quietly with his paws extended, resting, a catheter on his wrist. With the first injection he became even more quiet. He was very still, calm, present. As if he was going into meditation. Other injections followed. And, he became more still and quiet and motionless. In a remarkably short time it was over. The vet, using a stethascope checked for a pulse, and simply nodded that it was over. I stroked him gently, feeling his little body still warm and soft. He just seemed to be sleeping. We were glad to have been with him.

We brought the small carton home and placed it on our altar in front of a statue of the Buddha and a photo of the Dalai Lama, set alongside photos of all of our family members who have passed on. On the following day we buried Buddha's body in our garden. The grave was placed under the garden statue of a meditating Buddha, one with a gentle smile. We planted cycleman all around the statue and bulbs deep in the earth so that in the spring we will see crocus and iris and frisia burst forth to remind us of our sweet friend. Buddha was a being of intelligence, grace, beauty and kindness. Everyone thought him remarkable. We loved this cat very much. We shall miss him.

LibraryThing.com

August 30, 2006
Back from travels in Virginia, West Virginia and Tennessee, Denmark and Norway. We have been on a genealogy hunt . . . with good results. Glad to be home. I've recently joined an interesting web site: Library Thing Check out the site. It's like walking into my house and browsing my bookshelf. Let me know what you think.

Health from a new perspective . . .

June 20, 2006
Larry Dossey's book, The Extraordinary Healing Power of Ordinary Things is a must read for anyone interested in health. He gives credence to topics that would seem surprising: optimism, plants, dirt, novelty, tears. Read this book for inspiration and some common sense ideas about things each of us can do to increase the odds of our wellness.

Podcast Interview- LIFEHACK.ORG

June 14, 2006

It has been a great ride to enjoy the attention that my book, Improv Wisdom: Don't Prepare, Just Show Up (Bell Tower, 2005) has received. Bloggers and business types seem to be finding it useful, and just this week I did a podcast interview for LifeHack.org.

Last week was a Chautauqua lecture for a public radio staion in Missouri. You can find the link when you visit my book's web site: www.improvwisdom.com.

I have had lots of help getting the word out on this book. It is being viewed as a tool for creativity. I love the photograph of the book lying next to wrenches and sockets. That is exactly what I hoped the book would do: be a toolkit for life. This photo was taken by a Stanford Engineering student for a review in the Stanford Design Magazine Ambidextrous.

Shifting gears temporarily, last week was the California primary election. I've been saddened by the fact that all three local measures to support schools, libraries and primary education--all three failed. What is happening to our society that all we can say to government is no? No more taxes, no more. We all know that prices go up. It seems to me that it is only sensible to keep funding those things that make our society strong. We can't have a top notch educational system on volunteerism and good will. We need to pay the way for our children.

An Inconvenient Truth

Run, or better yet, bike to see the new Al Gore documentary, An Inconvenient Truth

Roger Ebert has given An Inconvenient Truth a Four-star review writing in the Chicago Sun-Times: “The director, Davis Guggenheim, uses words, images and Gore’s concise litany of facts to build a film that is fascinating and relentless. In 39 years, I have never written these words in a movie review, but here they are: You owe it to yourself to see this film. If you do not, and you have grandchildren, you should explain to them why you decided not to.”