I’m back from my reprieve where the profound was abundant with less than subtle cues.
For about three days on the Big Sur coast I began to feel like a watery-eyed mystic, tearing up and overflowing like a blissful fountain at the slightest glance of a flower. Ahhh…to have space to crack open, break down and let life touch deeply.
Though I was unplugged, I took plenty of notes. I’ll be gathering the napkin and paper bag tid bits, the notepads scrawls and journal entries and compiling them into some sort of chronicling that can be shared.
More filaments gathered for weaving. Continuing to follow the thread…
Baur and Jeffers found a home on the remote and rugged coast of Big Sur, where the landscape shaped their art.
photo by Jessica Dofflemyerphoto by Jessica Dofflemyer
Looking forward to the time in six weeks when I’ll be reunited with this magical coastline, I poked around at some of my own photos from when I was there last winter.
On an isolated stretch of beach, I meandered with my new love picking a few special stones along the way. When we ascended the bluff, we looked down and photographed our footsteps that wove apart and then together. So smitten we were with our blossoming connection, every detail had significance. Warm heart flutters and butterflies mingled with tangerines and chocolate in the salt air. My pocket full of stones eventually made it into a special box, bought at the Phoenix Shop at Nepenthe, specifically to house them.
I still have the stones. And I’ll return to Big Sur soon. But pathways have crossroads and sometimes we diverge (I now note in the photo our steps fall far apart). Waves come and sweep the sands. They shape and smooth the rocks.
With Baer and Jeffers I’m reminded that the art remains – words and photographs capture the essence of a feeling. The love of a land and the experiences lived there. These gifts are alive forever in our hearts.
Went to the cliff above the ocean this morning and sang to the waves beside the Ironwood tree. Later, bought a used copy of Stones of the Sur– the collection of Robinson Jeffers poetry and Morley Baer’s photography. I’m following a thread…stones and Big Sur and something about the heart.
In the afternoon, I walk with my son to a concert in the hills and he hears the notes of his father’s guitar trickle up the canyon where we are. Rex is on stage singing about the love of his life. I’ve never heard this song but I think I understand. It was never me and that’s okay.
At evening’s end Chris Berry asks the crowd to sing with him.
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