“I sat down in the middle of the garden, where snakes could scarcely approach unseen, and leaned my back against a warm yellow pumpkin… All about me giant grasshoppers, twice as big as any I had ever seen, were doing acrobatic feats among the dried vines…The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers….I kept as still as I could.  Nothing happened.  I did not expect anything to happen.  I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more.  I was entirely happy.  Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge.  At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great.  When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.”

EMPTY

Like the beginner’s mind and heart,

The unpainted canvas,

And the unwritten song,

Accepting and embracing,

All that is empty.

GRB July 2014

Photo by Dave Dreimiller

A lot has happened in the past two years, since I started this blog. Children move out and move away. The empty nest is a place that recalls the voices and presence of those who are closest to you, except for your spouse, that is, if you are still together. But, even then, the closeness of a child growing up in a house hold, is a lot to let go. Nonetheless, ‘letting go’ is the name of the game, if we want our children to grow, and, if we want to grow into our next independent phase of life. Whatever that may be. Change is imminent! Change is good! Change is hard! Sweet memories persist by virtue of our own desire to exist in a happy state of mind.

So, the journey encompasses another phase in life. My name is still Georgianna, and I am still just as curious, if not more so, with the passing of time. My new chapter brings with it new interests, compounded with the old, perhaps less academic, and less concrete than before. Randomness and surprise, are more welcome in my space. I would say, I have returned to another life, I possessed before I earned a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree, and that is the life of being an artist, and exploring my own artistic potential.

My interests in languages, culture and my role as an educator are still on my plate, but embellished with the more creative side to my nature. I will continue to teach courses of Spanish at the University, enjoy the students, and think they will enjoy me even more, than they have in the past.  They are, of course, free to differ:)

With these words, I will continue to post to my blog, with poems, photographs, essays and various anecdotes of interest. I will highlight my passions making observations and reflections about travel, theatre and much more. The empty nest should bring with it new eggs to be hatched, new ideas to contemplate. Therefore, continue to enjoy!

For me, Yochen/Dad was steady and constant. Watching and partaking in is daily rituals gave me inner strength and security as I was growing up. I am grateful for this strength which I resort to today. Really they are just simple things. For example, and much to our chagrin, let’s remember his incredible faith and earnestness to get his family to church every Sunday. He had wholesome habits, as far as I can recall. He was clockwork in the hour he got up and went to his office, to the time he came home, when he put his tar and paint stained work clothes on to get back to work with his hammer and nails. He was always building, always creating and he never stopped dreaming! His family was a part of that dream. Before work, he would go to shake dice with his buddies at the Midway Cafe and at lunch time, he would always come home and invite me to share a bowl of Campbell’s mushroom soup. So we would pour the soup and he would energetically crumble crackers into his bowl. If it was summer and sunny and warm he would take his ritual dip into the pool at 12 noon, before returning to the office. I would wait every day for him to come back at his predictable times and at the end of every day when he returned, I was there and he would say to me, “George, whata ye know? You ole sock, ole bean, ole snake in the grass.” My conversations with him were not that lengthy in life but that was part of the beauty of it. He was always there for me and he is still here for me today, in my heart. I hope all my brothers and sisters have similar good feelings and memories of our father. Love you, Dad!

Elizabeth’s town
Burned down
Left everyone with a frown.
Smoke billowed over Baptist
Enveloped black over stones.
Mother Garrett
must have rolled over in her grave.
Sad day for Garrettsville.