Ordinary Beauty

Okay, first of all I have to love-hate a state whose abbreviation is MO.

Nevermind that were it not for MO, I wouldn’t have the adorable husband that I have (he, being born in STL, MO).

He is at The Pageant in STL, MO at this very moment, as I sit here in Seattle. And at this moment, he is probably listening as Rundgren & band sing, “One step, higher, higher” although if there was an opening band, Rundgren is probably right in the midst of declaring, “Now I’m mad“.

Before my dear flew off this morning, we had a long chat during which I tried to convince him that I have no issues with him stalking Todd Rundgren; it’s not something I have any interest in doing, and I cannot really “relate” to it. But it’s what he wants to do, and just because I don’t feel such compulsion (for Rundgren or anyone else) doesn’t mean that I don’t get it. As I’ve said before, Rundgren and his work had a gigantic, positive, life-changing effect on my husband in his youth–and the music is hot these days, too.

Besides, thanks to certain connections in STL, this time there’ll be an All Access pass to glue onto my dear’s black linen jeans, although he swears he will forego the back stage stalking for the better sound quality that will be found in front of the stage.

Oh, and then tomorrow night he’s off to VooDoo in Kansas City.

Sometimes it’s easy to say I Love You — in this case, my beau is partial to Reese’s peanut butter cups, and something about the special Valentine’s rendition is even more appealing to him than the usuals. So, I’ve squirreled away a few to stuff in his jacket pockets now and then (shhh. Don’t tell him there are more hidden somewhere ;-)

I am still stunned.
Baffled.
Flumoxed.
Amazed.
Joyous.
Flat out perplexed.

Not in a bad way, any of it. Just effin remarkable. Startling. Puzzling. Indescribable.

And all completely NORMAL at the same time.

Nevertheless, stunned.

I married this man two months and a few days ago. It was all completely The Right Thing To Do, nevertheless I am still settling in with What Does This Mean?

I don’t have much more than that to say about that right now–except that it’s no wonder that it is so difficult to answer the question, “How will I know if he is the Right One?” — because the Right One, just Is.

What a jumble.

I’ve been unpacking boxes. The floor is deep with crumbled tissue paper and a few loose styrofoam bop-dots gust across the room each time I open the front door. I am finally doing what looks like Moving In, to the home where I’ve pretty much lived since about last October or so, but not really officially until this past July 7, 2007–or July 30th, which is when I carted away the last of my possessions from the apartment in Fremont (where the new landlord raised the rent more than $200! for the new tenants).

The kitchen island is covered with dishes and cookbooks and items in transition. Amidst this chaos, empty boxes are the most tangible evidence that I have made any progress at all. I have one hour until Perry is home again, and I’m going to have to scramble something fierce to bring order to this mess before he arrives.

But all I want to do right now is rest here in the window seat, with a glass of Penalolen and watch the birds and squirrels, and see if I can’t bring some order to the chaos I feel within me. It is a challenge to do so, because I am not sure of the nature of the chaos.

I feel it. The hummingbird flits past me and the movement increases a sense of anxiety. In the corner of my eye I catch the motion of a squirrel speeding past, and it too, agitates me.

Who is it who sings, “Be still my beating heart”?

Here I am, finally moving into my new home. I still have only a vague sense that this is my home. The thing is, I don’t quite believe it. I don’t feel secure in my good fortune. I fret that all this beauty, all this amazing blessedness of my life, is going to POOF or SHATTER or something.

And I grapple with my fortune, the abundance of _things_ in my life, in conjunction with a general belief in surrender … if that makes sense. I am trying to Let Go, have faith, trust, accept the path that presents itself to me. And walk with gentle awareness.

So here I am, unpacking boxes. How many drinking vessels does one household need, anyway? Sweet little shot glasses. Big bulbous hand-blown red wine glasses. Champagne glasses. Tall tumblers. Short tumblers. Silver goblets. Precious green and ruby and blue and ambler snifters, that remind me of the glassware my grandmother passed down to me (but that is still in a box somewhere). I really grapple with a certain resonance with these pretty, fragile things, and my desire for an unburdened life.

So here I sit, with a jumble of feelings. A new home. Dashing hummingbirds. Dozens of glasses. A (new) husband who will be home any minute. And a glorious Blue Jay perched in the Western Red Cedar, imploring me to toss some peanuts out for his dinner. His simple life, his simple needs, distract me from the complicated mess in my (MY!) kitchen.

So where are the post-wedding blog entries?

What I can say is that I am still in a daze. At this point, the day is still indescribable (my brain is about as swift as my spelling).

The photographs are trickling in. Here’s one that I took the morning after, and below, a few from John Cornicello.

So, Rob’s been crafting some very specific playlists for our wedding. Hours in I-tunes of drag and drop and arranging. And the plan was of course, to place it all on our I-pod and happily scroll through the wedding day.

Well, Perry’s I-pod failed (for the third time), so we went I-pod shopping. Decided the Nano was the best candidate, but was concerned that its 1000 song capacity wouldn’t handle six hours of music, so went home to ask Rob. Nope, he says it was just fine, lots of room, so the boys went off to throw more of our money at the Apple store gang.

Okay, so home again jiggetty-jig. Onward to transferring the playlists.

Or, not. Seems my sweet new Nano demands the most modern of I-tunes, which is not an option, as that demands an os upgrade, and that’s not an option b/c previously loaded (and recently upgraded) ProTools won’t run on a more modern os.

WTF?! I can’t run my new I-pod b/c I can’t run the new I-tunes?

Meanwhile, I-tunes upgrades itself, or something. And then DEMANDS a new os, refusing to reveal anything from I-tunes until then.

Well, for those of you following along at home, this means we now cannot access the playlists. At. All.

Lucky for me I have a penchant for geeks, and the resident geeks get to it. Out comes the os disks, out goes the new I-tunes, in comes the old I-tunes, and voila, playlists can be found.

But that’s only part of the solution. Remember, no upgraded I-tunes means there’s nothing for my I-pod to relate to. So, out comes an external harddrive, add a few new folders to it, drag the playlists from the old I-tunes to the harddrive, and traipse through the house to another Mac, upgrade its I-tunes, and–voila–move all those hours of hand-crafted playlists onto my new Nano.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Don’t get me wrong. I support anti-pirating efforts. But. This. Was. Ridiculous.

I suppose I have spent more time on our invitations than on anything else for this wedding. I don’t want to count the hours of thought and effort.

My first wedding, I dunno know what I was thinking, the breadth and quantity of people I invited. I was young and socially inept.

Now, I am old, and still somewhat inept. And my venue has its limitations, so I have–for months–been grappling with the disparity between the numbers of people I love, and the number of people the venue will comfortably hold.

We started with listing all the many folks whose company we enjoy and whose blessings we would cherish. Of course, we added certain “obligatory” names to the list; who could believe we hadn’t. But here’s the thing about the Obligations–I don’t feel ambivalent about any of their invitations, those people belong at my wedding.
The total number of names … damn. It was a big number. Much larger than our venue– OR, our introverted natures–would tolerate. So we cut things down to just family, and those dearest of friends (you know, those friends who would donate one of their lungs to you, without question). That number was still huge (uh, over eighty names).

And pretty much I’ve been losing sleep over it ever since.

So, if you thought you would be receiving an invitation in the mail, and you did not–please know that the lack is not because you don’t shine in my eyes. The lack is my lack.

Perry and I decided this weekend, that if three weeks from now, after the wedding, hindsight reveals some “we should-uvs” and we have regrets about things or people we did not include in our wedding, well, we’ll just have another one. Refresh our vows and all, and have another party while we’re at it.

Okay. I made additional effort, and added some things to our amazon.com registry. Not much, mind you, but I did add something “traditional”. :-)

A few things to consider if you are in Seattle in July.

It rains on July 4th, invariably, and is nice every day after that until the end of September (well, pretty much). “Nice” means up to 75-80 degrees on average, and daylight until, oh, 9:00 or so.

The Henry is NOT charging admission from now through Labor Day. I am overly fond of the James Turrell Skyspace and recommend you visit it perhaps on a Thursday when the museum is open until 8:00 and you might get the most effect of the changing of light in the evening. Or, on a day when the wind is blowing the clouds quickly through the sky.

Lunch 2.0 — I don’t know what this is but it looks interesting and is at Zillow. I ~heart~ Zillow.

Here’s a whole collection of events in Seattle in July. Hmmm.

And, Seafair. Including the Milk Carton Derby at Greenlake on 07 07 07 from 11 to 4.

An interesting looking channel, Eccentric Seattle. Again, I have not looked at this, but hmmm.

Wooden boats. I also ~heart~ wooden boats.

Note, not “what makes a marriage”, but, “what makes a wedding”?

Many artists and geniuses are contributing to the schemes and details of my Big Day. The key players and elements include our priest, our cake, our caterer, and, our “clown”.

Steffon Moody is working his magic on the course of events. His day job is to delight children at Children’s Hospital. His role at our wedding is multi-faceted, and cannot be discussed, as that would ruin several surprises :-) …

Robby Pellett is our priest, and I’ve talked a few times here about his gifts to our day.

Tibero Simone, my dear, dear friend, will cater. But to say only “cater” does no justice to his way with food and affairs.

Tobey Rodriguez of Sugar! cake studio is building a cake the likes of which has never been known. About that I cannot say much, again at risk of ruining secrets.

My dress is the work of Isadora’s. And today, Perry acquired his vest, cravat, and ring there.

Photos will abound.

Michelle Bates is sharing her Holga talents. John Cornicello will be capturing sweet and sultry images of the guests in their glory. Jeff Richardson has some video magic up his sleeves.

Nicole Kincaid has agreed to clear the energy from our wedding rings, before Robby blesses them.

Jon Rosen, Rebecca Ryan, “Doc”, Michal Szostalo, and Rob Medcalf are all inclined to musically augment the day.

And those are just the Big Parts … there are so many details.

T minus 20 days, and I can FINALLY say that yes, I know what I am going to wear. It took an attitude shift: yesterday on the acupuncture table I realized that I ought to stop thinking, “I need to look for a dress” and start thinking “I am going to find a dress.” And then on my way home from that acupuncture appointment, I popped into Isadora’s to take a quick survey. The time on my parking meter was about to expire (if it hadn’t already) so a rapid survey was all I had in mind.

Isadora’s is known for their luscious vintage clothing, but they also sell their own line of vintage-inspired pieces. The staff was very helpful, and not at all brusque or condescending, and I ended up lingering and discussing my dress desires with one of them. She said, “How about a halter style, I have one that might be just right.” She turned to find it on the rack, and then said, “Oh, she has it on right now.”

And across the room walked a bride, in pretty much The Perfect dress. Silk, semi-princess-ish, with a low back … Perry’s been voting for a dress with a low back.

I had that dang parking meter to deal with, so I asked if the store was open on Monday, when I knew that Perry and I would be back downtown anyway, found out that it is, and made my way home, to announce, “I think I found a dress. We can look at it Monday.” In that way he has, Perry says, “Well, are they open tomorrow?”

So this morning I Google up their website, find the photo of the dress, it piques his interest, and we head off for Isadora’s.

However, I have some reservations, for the website’s description of the dress says, “The Elizabeth w/ Chiffon Overlay Skirt. In House Design . . . Choice of fabrics and made to order.”

Made to order. I have less than three weeks between now and the Big Day; there’s probably no way that I’m going to obtain a Made to Order dress. I consider calling the store to confirm the (im)possibility of having the dress made in time–save ourselves a trip and all–but I decide that if there’s only a slim chance, I’m better off to make my plea in person than anonymously over the phone.

We get to the store at about 11 on a Sunday, and have the place all to ourselves. Excellent. I try on the sample of the dress known as Elizabeth w/Chiffon Overlay Skirt, and it’s too big. Our assistant, Miko, pins things smaller in the back and I pirouette and Perry approves.

Miko offers that the dress is available to try in my size, without the Overlay Skirt, so I don that to see how it is, and it is much better, but because of more than the size appropriateness.

I ponder, why do I like this second gown more? It’s the shine of the fabric I think, a silk charmeuse rather than the sueded silk of the first. And it’s the color, too, I think–they call it “oyster”. But I am not so certain of the cut. And, we go back and forth with combining elements of the two dresses and nothing is quite working. So I put the Oyster dress back on, then added a lace jacket from the rack beside me. Nice.

But the jacket was too large, and there was only one, but, our Lovely Assistant, again, offers, “well, we also have these pieces that a woman in the south makes from antique laces” … and she disappears–to return with an ethereal little wisp of a jacket. When I slip it on over the gown, it is, perfect. It pulls everything together, and finally, I can say, “I have a dress.”

So, what will you be wearing on 07-07-07?

What a tricky topic. There’s official etiquette on this: the soon-to-be-married couple is supposed to convey their (our) desires, but not ask for anything … like, when asked, “Are you registered anywhere?” our job is to answer, “Yes, we are registered at ______” but any specific/direct requests for gifts is verboten. Oh. And the other thing we are allowed to do is let a good friend know our wishes, and have faith that folks will ask that person about our wishes.

But we must not provide such info ourselves!

You know, I get it, and pretty much I agree. Perry and I, we’re in kind of funny circumstances, you know. We don’t have the traditional emissaries for distributing such info, like an official Best Man or Matron of Honor. And what with this being our second marriage, and we’re all grown-up with lots of “stuff” (okay, too much stuff). And really, it means the world to us, the little things, like our friends being so happy for us, and other friends offering to help in whatever way. I mean, we’re already fortunate beyond reconciliation. So, we started out pretty much discouraging folks from giving us anything.

That doesn’t work too well.

So once we accepted that people do ENJOY giving gifts and we buckled down and made ourselves a LITTLE list, we did have some success with the drop-a-little-clue technique of broadcasting our wish-list. Perry whispered it to his mother, Patricia, and she relayed it to her daughters, Nancy, Cathy, and Donna. And so, last month when he and I visited St. Louis, his sisters each bestowed us with a ROCK. There they are in the lower right-hand corner of the photo above.

We LOVE rocks. We have a great, big garden to house rocks, and adore the ways that rocks speak to people. The note below is the one that Donna included when she gifted us with a rock; I think it says a lot.

By the way, in case you are asking, we did make a Wish List at Lee Valley, and are working on a registration at Amazon. Forgive us, it’s hard work asking for things … I guess it’s been a long time since I wrote a letter to Santa, and I am out of practice.

We met with Robby again last night. This time to talk with more detail about the marriage ceremony he will give us. I am still thrilled that Robby is doing this; his questions and comments and the overall essence of his ceremony is so right. It gives me assurance that my marriage is so right–that this marriage is a true part of my path and that this marriage binds me to the world in a larger way. And those feelings/beliefs are important to me.

In the ceremony, part of what Robby will say is, ” … nothing happens without cause and that this union of these two individuals is the working of all creation throughout time and space.”

Pretty big.

Just back from my first trip to St. Louis. The days were filled with fortuitious moments, including luck with the weather and random intersections with people and places. I had a great time. Met nice people, including my future in-laws. Purtin-near filled a gig with photographs.

St. Louis is VERY different from Seattle, and very different from anywhere I’ve been before. I’m always awed at how different one place can be from another. I mean, we’re all humans creating our little civilizations … what makes them so different? My friend Mary can put some answers on that, what with her geographic anthropology and all. Big clue in St. Louis — all the red brick (which is what is likely under this coat of blue paint, eh?)

When I got home Sunday night from shamen school, “365 Goddesses” was laying there on the kitchen table.

During the course of the day, Elke had encouraged us to peruse her copy of of the book “365 Goddesses”, which presents each day of the year with a corresponding goddess. Of course, I flipped to July 7, which is the day that I plan to marry Perry. And here is what I read.

“Kamuhala Hime: A Japanese goddess of weaving, Kamuhata Hime braids the strands of fate to help out anyone seeking solid relationships. Through her careful, artistic eye, she binds devotion with love into a beautiful, strong tapestry between two committed people.”

This seemed a positive “sign” and I was curious what more there might be to know about Kamuhata Hime. On the way home, I’d called Perry from the road, asking him to Google “Kamuhata Hime” and just see what comes up. And so, when I got home, there awaiting me was the book that I’d been thumbing through just two hours before.

See, the thing is, well, the thing is the haiku above. There came a place in my and Perry’s relationship when we would concoct salient little haikus for each other; in the midst of these exchanges I mentally set aside the word, “inevitable”, a sweet set of 5 syllables. This also happens to be the word we had come to use to describe the possibility of our future together: inevitable. And then one day, the “inevitable” haiku arrived (and I had the presence of mind to write it down as it came)

my heart and your heart
twining our lives together
inevitable

And so it just seems to resonate, the haiku’s twine, Kamuhata Hime’s braid, that Perry would have this book, and have it at hand (in the midst of the house remodel), that it would be in Elke’s home and my home, that July 7 is Kamuhata Hime’s day–of binding devotion with love.

The book goes on to say, “If you are thinking of deepening your commitment to someone, tonight is an excellent time to recite your promises to each other beneath the stars. As you do, braid three strands of cloth or yarn, making a vow at each juncture. Keep this Kamuhata Hime amulet to protect the love and devotion in your relationship.”

There are so many reasons why people marry. A certain magical inevitablity is one of mine.