marrow made of stars

I recently discovered a publication worthy of my loyal following. I suppose I'm quite picky with those magazines, newspapers, and even blogs I read on a regular basis. At the top of my list are The New Yorker and Body and Soul- two magazines to which I subscribe and read quite religiously.

The New Yorker feeds my need to be up to speed on all things artistic, political, and literary. The beauty of this magazine is that I can in fact carry it around for weeks on end and work getting through it at my own pace (those articles are quite long as you might know). Body and Soul is probably one of the best things Martha Stewart could have done with her career. This is a delightful collection of articles on all things I find of interest: food and recipes, yoga, crafts, healthy living, finding inner peace, being green, etc. Any publication that can tell me how to 'get happy' in 5 steps or less is most certainly a friend of mine.

I do also enjoy Martha's magazine Whole Living and much like it I love reading Real Simple. Who doesn't like finding new ways of organizing, decorating, and feng shuing a space? Of course then there's In Style which plays on my most girlie interests in fashion, shoes, make up, and the ever illusive perfect hand bag. Yet, I do not subscribe to any of these publications personally.

When it comes to newspapers I will always pick up a copy of The New York Times where ever seen. Mostly this occurs in Starbucks when I park myself at a corner table, ideally on a drizzly day, drink my vanilla latte and dive into all matters newsworthy. I am a dedicated follower of the Arts section of the Times as it seems to have the most comprehensive and thoughtful reviews of all things visual, literary, and dare I say it 'dance like' art.

Today alone I opened the Times, made a quick turn to the Arts section and was thrilled to see a review of Sam Wasson's book Before She Was Immortal , a look into the contradictions of Breakfast at Tiffany's . The same section reviewed Bonnaroo, the latest installment of Twilight, current break outs in hip-hop, and Balanchine and Ailey's latest works. What other news publication could possibly discuss such an eclectic array of art while also commenting on the World Cup, oil spills, and mineral findings in Afghanistan? Let us not forget the latest trends walking down Broadway either. I love The New York Times.

Now Blogs. I admittedly follow a few blogs anonymously. Many of these were found randomly but a certain post or mastery of words has kept me going back for more. I do follow one blog rather publicly. "Talking to Think" is the blog of a dear friend's mother, who is herself, a dear friend of mine, and a writer of committed thought and intention. She sees beauty and possibility in all places and seems so acutely aware of the goings on surrounding her lovely existence. I cannot help but smile after reading her posts. What a gift that we should be offered such a direct invitation into someones life, finding inspiration in all things no matter how miraculous or common place.

I suppose this brings me to the actual intention of this blog entry. As I mentioned, I recently discovered yet another publication worthy of my loyal following. Before stepping on the plane for Oahu I stocked up on magazines to occupy the hours of flight- "Artful Blogging" being one of them. This magazine has truly transformed me. The magazine, published every three months, is a collection of excerpts from real life blogs. Many of them are in fact visually inspiring, as photographers, painters, and crafters of all kinds post not only verbal thoughts but visual expression and essays. There are blogs spanning generations, countries, and career paths. I've read of relationships, families, and emotional, spiritual journeys. And oh goodness the crafting, decorating, and "home made" art ideas! I am overjoyed. Yet each of these excerpts offer some sort of inspiration not only for my blog, but my life. (Paula, if you're reading this. You must check out this magazine!)



So today, flipping back through the zine I came across an excerpt from swirlygirl.typepad.com. In her partial post Sometimes she writes:

Sometimes you have to travel across an ocean, miles from everything that is familiar to you, from almost everyone you love most, to a place where one person lives, opens her home to you and provides a space of such safety, acceptance, and mindfulness that it is not possible for your heart to do anything but break wide open.

Sometimes you find yourself sitting in a foreign land where the waves crash more thunderously and the wind travels more forcefully, where the color of the sky determines what your day will look like- adventurous trekking over farmland and forest or quiet hours spent examining all the intricacies of who you are, how you've become this, all the ways you've messed up and soared beautifully and why you've chosen to live a life this committed to such intense self-awareness.

Sometimes you sit on the porch of a beach house in a town with a funny name listening to a piece of music, sobbing quietly as the birds flutter around you oblivious to the fact that your heart feels such a profound sense of peace that you think you just might dissolve into a million pieces of light right then and there.

Every journey chance us- every step we take away from our comfort zone is capable of shifting our perspective of the world and our place in it. This journey is no exception, and I will leave a part of myself behind when I return home, experiencing a sense of wholeness I cannot yet articulate, but in my bones tastes like marrow made of stars.



These words resonate so deeply. I feel as if I could have written them or a companion post expressing such similar and familiar sentiments. And it's true, whether here in this magazine, a blog, newspaper article, or card from a friend, sometimes I am so strongly reminded of the power of words. Sometimes the affects of written language are so profound we are never the same. We couldn't possibly be. Today I flipped through this amazing little magazine, stumbled upon this post and was amazed that somewhere, at sometime, someone resembled me so closely it's almost unbelievable. In a really big way, in that tiny little moment, I felt so beautifully connected to someone I've never even met. And today, it's after reading her words that I get to thinking, maybe this little blog of mine is more significant than I let myself believe.

Words have power. Though I suppose it's the people shaping, crafting, and forming them into thoughts and sentences (blog posts perhaps?) ultimately affording them such power. And then in turn, it's the people reading, reflecting, and living in response to those words who also offer the language a weight of its own. That's a pretty incredible thing, really, when you think about it, huh? Pretty incredible.