The flowers
started to wilt and I
noticed the texture of the
drying petals and the play of light
​from different angles.

I love
how the fresh
and still warm coffee grinds,
generate steam. I also love how I don't
actually know what was in each bucket until
I stir the heaped mass of coffee
and vegetable scraps...

I doubt any
of these will become
official 'Compost Compositions'
as the lighting wasn't quite right today.
Stay tuned for more about
that in a later
​post.

It hit me,
though, as the 
pile got smaller, that
this is another one of those
routines I do all the time that is,
on the one hand, just another item on
the endless list, but on the other hand, is an
integral part of a bigger climate action narrative, a
story in which I find joy in routines that feel
good unto themselves but are also
part of a larger creative
​vision.

Like 
how I can
share photographs
of a previous year's leaves
on the wall of a gallery and by doing
so inspire others to think differently about
leaves, carbon and our
​material world. 

Please come
share the joy and
experience the wonder 
that is our waste at my artist's
talk next Friday, November 1. It will be
at AVA Gallery at 5pm. Oh, and it's also my
birthday and I was thinking how great
it would be to share it with others
who care about all this
stuff. See you then
and there!

What is it
about corn husks,
besides their enticing shade of
light green, fanlike spread on the pile,
and their capacity to
​protect?

For me, it is
much more than the
reassuring taste of what they contain.
It has to do with their history, and the fact that corn
was originally a gift from the indigenous people who lived in
New England to my people, who showed up
500 years ago, unannounced and
unprepared. The results
were not pretty.

I am deeply 
grateful for the gift
of corn then and now. Though
today it has a different purpose, perhaps,
inspiring a new point of view on the conversations
that gift started centuries ago. Who has the
right to what land and for what
purpose? And who is 
going to care
​for it?

It is an honor
that later today I will
be among friends new and old,
celebrating these Compost  Compositions.
They are at once framed compositions of color, shape
and texture as well as narratives about what it
means to live in our world today - - the 
beauty and the mess of it all. Some
days it feels more beautiful
​than others.

Today,
I choose to see
the beauty of what is,
not just in the compost pile,
but in my life. Please come see the
show at AVA Gallery.
​It's really cool.

And also, please
take a moment this weekend
to express gratitude for all those before
us who made our current
harvests ​possible.

And
​there is more.
Behind these photographs
there is me, a woman in mid life
choosing to share her work
and, by default, her
story - - 

Perhaps
that is why last year I had
so much fun dismantling and composting
my Harvard and UVA Degrees.
​Why not explore? 

Or, perhaps
that is why I am OK
sharing my first attempt at decorating
a silk dress with embroidered
imagery of my own
design.

Now
​that it is Show Time
the connections between these
experiments becomes
clearer. 

I was
in a great mood
because I had set the day aside
to work on a major embroidery project
I'm exploring this
summer. 

I think I was
able to finish about
half a leaf between each
interruption. By the time I went
out to hang the laundry, I was feeling 
really frustrated by how slow my progress was.
I'd been feeling bad about other things too. Like the fact
I hadn't written a blog post for more than a 
month and that I hadn't finished
the next playbook
in my series.  ​

But while standing
on the terrace and hearing the
baby birds and seeing a monarch butterfly
head toward the volunteer milkweed in the orchard
we planted, I remembered that not long ago,
none of this was here: no terrace, solar
panels, shrubs or perennials, and
no monarchs or baby birds
​learning to sing.

Sometimes I
​just have to consciously
remember how things really work,
which is why when I dumped the compost and
took yet another photograph, I remembered the power of
showing up and of big little things. 10 pounds of compost a week
adds up to 500 pounds a year -- a ton over four years. 
That's a lot of food diverted from the landfill.
It's also a lot of photographs
celebrating its
​beauty.

 I wore these
boots from November
to May this year. Finally, a few weeks
ago, they went into the storage box, from which my 
summer sandals and other cooler shoes emerged. Time for the
seasonal assessment. If I haven't worn something for 
a year or if it doesn't work anymore,
it goes in the spring give
away pile.

You might
think, with 26 pairs
of work boots, athletic shoes,
dress shoes and casual shoes, I'd have
enough. But I don't. My athletic shoes are worn out
and I've never really found the 'just right' pair
of casual sneakers...and with this
trip to London, it became 
clear that I needed
some upgrades.
But...

These days
I'm focused on shoes
and clothes with a story. If they
haven't been well worn by another before
me, I want to  know that the materials
used are ethically sourced, the
​stitches made with care,
and the resources
used, ​fair.

So yesterday,
there I was, in Kentish
Town, London, at The Third Estate,
on whose racks and shelves are clothes, shoes,
bags and socks made with love. Each
brand, it seems, has its own
​story to tell.

So I had some fun.

Light or dark Ethletic Fair Trade Vegan Sustainable Trainers?

Funky Kalakar 
Breathable and light
"BreLite Collection" shoes
whose soles come from recycled
tires and uppers are handspun cotton.
They truly are the lightest shoes
ever - - only 250 grams!
A perfect travel 
companion.

I ended
up with dark, cute,
comfy and filled with love.
They make me feel like I'm flying.
Maybe that's why The Third
Estate has a bird on
its window.

So I guess
shoes really are a
thing for me. Comfortable
feet matter but so does my actual
footprint. I think it's cool
when I can care
​for both.