Karen Fuhrman -Yoga

I’m a lover of any type of physical exercise but my yoga practice is what truly holds my heart. Physically, it provides me with a perfect balance of strength and flexibility. Spiritually, it encompasses all the elements that calm and ground.

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It provides the tools to build things that are often hard for me to reach such as self-love and exploration, confidence and a sense of presence that allows me to just stop.

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But the thing I love most about yoga is that you need nothing else to start a practice of your own besides an open mind and a willingness to grow. 

“Yoga is like music. The rhythm of the body, the melody of the mind, and the harmony of the soul creates the symphony of life” BKS Iyengar 

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Karen Fuhrman, mother, wife and yogi (in that particular order), resides in Arlington MA. Teaching several yoga classes a week at Down Under Yoga in Brookline and Newton, as well as On The Mat yoga in Concord, Karen takes her passion for physical exercise on to the mat, guiding students through a dynamic sequence designed to build strength and flexibility. Forever a student, Karen also continues to assist her mentor, world-renowned yoga instructor Natasha Rizopolous, during weekly master classes as well as teacher trainings, where she is constantly soaking up knowledge about anatomy, and proper alignment in poses. When not on her mat, Karen enjoys spending time with her husband and 3 young children.

John Aylward – Living Arts: Effortless Mastery

Last post, I wrote about meditation as a gateway to creativity. In this post, I would like to explore some of the ways we think about harnessing that creativity, no matter what media we use.

As a younger musician, one formative text for me was Kenny Werner’s Effortless Mastery. Werner is a jazz pianist who had an unconventional path that finally led him to the Berklee School of music where he met musicians who helped him open up a sense of freedom and exploration in his music. Essentially, for Werner, this came down to learning the art of improvisation.

Improvisation is a kind of meditation where music is somewhat spontaneously created and developed. Bill Evan’s famously said that jazz is the art of creating a minute of music in a minute’s time. And that cuts to the core of improvisation, not just in jazz music, but as a tool for spontaneous creativity and for living ‘in the moment’ – an aim shared with the practice of meditation.

In future posts, I’ll talk more about improvisation as a companion to meditation and a means for harnessing creativity, but for now, I would like to share one exercise that we can all do to unlock our creative potential that comes from Werner’s Effortless Mastery.

In an early chapter of Werner’s book, he asks to ‘make something bad’. In a naïve and encouraging way, we are asked to simply sit down and make something bad. It could be at our instrument, on our canvas, in our studio, on our design program, or however else we endlessly create. After a few minutes, Werner asks us to stop and look at or listen to what we’ve done. The phenomenon is actually striking because we see that when we are in the midst of a creative process we are usually consumed with whether or not it is any good. If we set out to create something bad, we have conquered the first inhibition toward creation, which is the constant censor of self-consciousness and critique that continually interrupts the creative process.

In this great clip of one of Kenny Werner’s lecture / performances, he talks about this connection between meditation, creativity, improvisation and non-judgment. I hope that no matter what you are working on, this idea of moving beyond your self-censor will help!

Kenny’s remarks begin at 10:50

 

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John Aylward is a composer, performer and writer who lives in Cambridge, MA.

Rodrigo Martinez – Going Deep

In the Mayan jungle. Rich, thick, mythical, ancient jungle. A crack in the rocks uncovers a beautiful, crystal clear, blue water whole. The Pit, the most famous cenote of all.

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“The Pit” by Rodrigo Martinez

In the water. I breath deeply. Really deeply. I take one last breath and then invert myself. I swim down…20, 30ft, every movement is deliberate, considered. 35ft….40, and then I stop moving. Total surrender. The pressure makes my body heavy, so I let go and let gravity take me down. 50ft…..the water hugs you as the pressure increases to 2, 3 atmospheres…..60, 70ft….80….100ft…as I pass 110ft I feel my self transformed.

My mind is clear, calm, I am in a meditative state. I feel total connection with the water around me, connection with the molecules of every drop to be precise. This nurturing, calm sensation runs through my being. A humbling feeling surrounds me. My soul smiles.

At the same time, my body is going through the fastest and most dramatic transformation of any sport. The mammalian reflex takes over. My heart rate has slowed down, my brain reroutes my blood flow away from my arms and legs and focuses on my heart and brain, my spleen starts to over produce red blood cells.

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“Cenote Zapote” by Julien Borde

I reach my depth. Slowly turn around. For a few seconds I see the trees at the bottom of this magical world. These trees are really branches that over millions of years have a crated a world of their own.

It has been 01:15, time to swim up. The pressure of 4 atmospheres has contracted my lungs to the size of a large orange. My body feels heavy, but somehow I feel strong, in control. I have been here before. With every kick I feel lighter. My mind slowly comes back to itself. The water becomes lighter, brighter.

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“Cenote The Pit” by Julien Borde

I break the surface. Deep exhales, quick exhales. Again. I feel complete calmness, like waking up from a deep and real dream. My brain and soul reconnect with the world above the water. Somehow I feel more alive, aware.

The Mayans believed the cenotes were the door to another world.  They were so right. There is a mythical, beautiful, deep world down there. And freediving has given me the opportunity to open that door.

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Rodrigo Martinez is passionate about biology + design + the future. He is Chief Marketing & Design Officer at Veritas Genetics. He is a freediver and makes a mean guac & margaritas. @RodrigoATCG

Brendan Ciecko – Seeking Grit and Ghost Signs

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I strolled along the cracked sidewalks and buckled paths of the “fossil American Venice” as Pulitzer Prize winning writer John McPhee once described this city. While passing through the sprawling district of canals littered with old brick mausoleums, I always notice something new. A century ago, that serpentine curve of the Connecticut River must have been a sight to be seen. Smoke stacks bellowing, trains roaring, and the bustle of things being produced in those factories. Each time I return, I examine the widespread decay, hoping that the “Queen of Industrial Cities” has stabilized and that she is in better condition than when I saw her last.

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“Hamilton Street” by Brendan Ciecko

Although many buildings and businesses continue to fall into ruin, the lack of forward motion has acted like a time capsule in some ways – preserving visual culture, commercial history, and proof of a more vibrant time. Behind flaking paint and around each corner, loom the ever-fading ghost signs.

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“Depot Square” by Brendan Ciecko

Most of my professional life has revolved around all things digital. Design is core to my being, and typography, a notable passion. When I travel my camera fills up with pictures of antique typography; hand­-painted signs, neon masterpieces, and chiseled cornerstones.

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“Haberman’s” by Brendan Ciecko

One of the things I can count on when visiting Western Massachusetts is that my ghost signs are still holding on tight. I’ve counted hundreds of interesting specimens within a mile radius of Holyoke’s majestic Neo-­Gothic City Hall.

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“Coca-Cola” by Brendan Ciecko

Oh, those ghost ­signs! High Street and Main Street have always been a feast for the eyes. Just look at the texture of the downtown, with its signage, old and new. But, the real treasures are of the businesses and advertisements long gone.

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“Main Pharmacy” by Brendan Ciecko

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“Essex Street” by Brendan Ciecko

Like a shoe-gazer on stage, you’d be surprised by what you’ll find with your head down. Terrazzo in the dipping entries of the old storefronts. Smashed marble and glass with hand-formed numbers and names of old departments stores. There must have been an old appliance shop here judging by that GE emblem, but I’ve never had the time to look it up.

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“GE” by Brendan Ciecko

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“Thom M” by Brendan Ciecko

In the 1960s and 70s, internationally renowned photographer Jerome Leibling took to the streets of this city’s raw downtown. During his time at Hampshire College, he brought along his students, including a young Ken Burns, to open their eyes and capture the grit of life.

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“Behind tenement” by Jerome Leibling

New York Times photographer Mitch Epstein documented the story of his family’s rise and tragic fall by the hands of Holyoke.

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“Newton Street Row Houses” by Mitch Epstein

A few months back, while visiting the deCordova, I came across a photograph in an exhibition titled “Overgrowth.” It was of a half­-shredded tenement with a hand-painted sign as an added bonus. Without reading the label, I knew where it was.

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“Coca-Cola, 1982” by Bill Ravanesi

These declining American cities have always captured our eye and imagination. I hope someday they’ll rebound, but until that day, I’ll continue collecting my snaps of signs and scenes of these formerly glorious New England mill towns.

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Brendan Ciecko is an entrepreneur, designer, and technologist. He lives in Boston, MA.

Randi Mail – Cycling Passion

My hands grip the handlebars, palms pressing down on the cushions of my fingerless gloves. My back is straight, but I lean forward facing the wind. The steady breeze in my face increases as my speed rises. I begin down the path along the river. “Hi Charles” I usually say aloud, with a big grin. I shoot a flirtatious glance at the water, its velvety and rippling surface laps at the shore. Might catch a hot pink or bright yellow duck boat or the mini sailboats in the distance out of the corner of my eye as I ride along.

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I know the bends in the path well, snaking around trees, benches, playgrounds, and sculptures.  Every so often, tree roots intent on slivering underneath from one side to the other create little heaves in the asphalt, black burrows cracking up across my way. I steady my feet on each pedal and position them midway on the rotation exactly opposite one another. At the same time, I draw my elbows in and lower my torso closer to the handlebars. A quick lift off the saddle, thighs lightly pinch the nose of the seat for stability and control. Over the bump… bump… back in the saddle.

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Legs pumping, I truly love this elegant invention. I have never owned a car. I play with my pedaling stroke to switch up the delicious muscle burn, sometimes slight sometimes intense. Maybe I’ll use my quads from hip to knee keeping my feet parallel stomping out the strokes. Or, activating my calf muscles I’ll start ankling. This technique involves pointing the foot slightly up on the down stroke and slightly down as you pull the pedal back and up.

The breeze shuffles my hair at my back. Little adjustments for total comfort, a tug here and there of my helmet brim and the back of my shirt. Breathing in, fresh air floods my lungs as I inhale deeply. Breathing out, my belly extends feeling peaceful as I become one with my bike.

Pumping. Click… click… I shift into a higher gear for more resistance and momentum. Letting go of the left handlebar first, then the right one, I sit upright. Lifting my arms out and up to the sides my shadow on the path is clear and tall. Bold and free, I ride over the dappled shadows of the leaves and branches from the border of trees beside me. This is me, I’m flying! I know I’ve got that twinkle in my eye, one of joy and pure passion. Nothing can compare.

Randi Mail is a lover of the outdoors, comedy, and the arts. She’s a positive change agent and natural leader working on sustainability from a triple bottom line perspective. From 2002-2016 she was Director of Recycling for the City of Cambridge in Massachusetts.

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John Aylward – Living Arts: Meditation

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Meditation is at the core of so many of the healing arts. It allows us to pay attention to ourselves. It opens up awareness of our body and mind and their interconnectedness. It reveals a way of seeing life that we never knew existed. True healing of physical or psychological trauma can be had through meditation. New levels of being and awareness can be achieved and unlocked. And for artists, meditation helps us imagine deeper connections and inspirations within our work.

I find it so interesting that, like all the healing arts, meditation takes practice. We in the creative fields understand practice too well. Indeed, there is even an art to practicing (stay tuned for my next Living Arts post!) So how do we practice meditation? And how do we know if we’re getting it right? If it’s providing all that we hear it offers?

I won’t assume to know the best ways, or the best way for you. I’m still learning myself. But I do know that meditation has made me a happier, more creative person. I have dedicated time each day to a cycle of meditations on the body’s chakras by Lisa Erickson. The link to these meditations is below. After reading descriptions of each meditation, there is a streaming audio to listen to as you meditate.

http://enlightenedenergetics.com/healing-and-empowering-your-root-chakra/

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John Aylward is a composer, performer and writer who lives in Cambridge, MA.

Erika Riddington – Stone Cold December

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“Each year as December approaches,
And Earth turns gray, stone cold,
Summer green lush is faded
And russet–brown overtakes gold,
I’m not perplexed or longing
for that chroma, or sweet fruit that has been,
But I do still revel in the fresh and beauteous.
I do not wish to give up
the lavish gathering in.”
-Anonymous

I live for a good walk.
As stone cold December approaches,
Thanksgiving weekend with family is particularly special.

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I go with delight at being together with the beloved people I rarely see.
I go to thoroughly enjoy simply breathing the fresh air and moving through space.

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Farm in Amherst, MA.

 
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I also go with a an eye for treasures to bring the freshness of outside in for the winter.

Gems stand out…
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The treasures found? An abandoned wasp’s nest for the classroom, some bright winterberry from the marshy farm’s edge, emerald moss for an advent garden, fragrant boughs of balsam for the holiday house, a bird’s feather for no purpose at all.

These artifacts find a place in our home and become part of our celebrations.

Through our sometimes too hurried and harried daily existence, the fresh pieces from the natural world are reminders of a flow beyond and help keep us connected to the larger Life.

Erika Riddington is a relatively new middle school science teacher, (former landscape architect), currently raising a family with her husband in Arlington, Massachusetts.

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Donna L. Gassie – Garden: Art & Life

Flowers. I love flowers.  The colors. The shapes.  The fragrances.  The shear variety.  And this from a city girl growing up in apartments.  I never experienced many fresh flowers or gardens when I was a kid.  They were exotic and something that occasionally showed up for special occasions.

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I’m a photographer.  And at some point in my adult life, I became acquainted with these flowers and I could not stop taking photographs of them.  I believe it was after my mother retired at a place at the lake….she cleared out large parcels of the yard and planted flowers.  Bulbs, beginner plants, cuttings….a big mix of types and species.  And it was lovely. It was in progress and changing monthly, looking different every visit. And my mother was lost in the work of her garden, happy in her floral explorations.

And at some point, I finally lived in a house and there was room…for a flower garden!  We cleared an area and mixed in rich soil.  I bought loads of annuals and perennials.  I drew page after page of garden blueprints and then I stood over that plot and mulled over the possibilities.  I finally measured out my rows, dug in with my trowel and transplanted the little plants.  And in the midst of developing my first garden, my younger brother unexpectedly passed away. That garden became a place of peace and with every flower I situated in that first garden, I planted a memory of him.  I cried and I smiled in that garden.  It was life and growth.  It was sustaining.

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I have owned 4 houses since that first one.  At every house I have turned the earth and created flowerbeds.  Big, puffy blue hydrangeas. Bright red poppies. Fragrant, purple Russian Sage, hearty and wild. Perky, yellow daffodils bringing us Spring. Flowing Butterfly Bushes. Fall Sedum.  The beauty of flowers, the symmetry and wonder of what nature creates, the gift of getting lost digging in the dirt and how it provides the opportunity for meditation and contemplation…a flower garden provides us all that.  And so much more.

Donna L. Gassie is a photographer, gardner, social worker, writer and occasional performer living in Richmond, Virginia.

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Krister Allen – Fortnight Idaho

toppost1Momentary visual stimulation from the State of 208 – Serious, Quirky, simply Pretty and just plain ‘Challenged’ …

Take a moment to look around – ignore your conditioned, often too accustomed, literal interpretations, skew the perspective and simonize your neurotransmitters.

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I will post them as I see them … apologies in advance if the biweekly synchronicity is not exact – yes, I had to be ‘that guy’ …

This past week was very precious to me … caringly, Sunrise – Sunset has been cheerfully and thematically decorating the soundscape of my mind:

Swiftly flow the days                                              Swiftly flow the years
Seedlings turn overnight to flowers                     One season following another
Blossoming even as we gaze                                Laden with gladness and tears
                                                                                                                                                        Harnick / Bock                 

… so with passion in the skies – I covet the familiarities of my past – to you Q!

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Krister Allen lives (for now) in Sandpoint, Idaho. He is an architect, avid sailor and skier…oh and happens to be my true love.

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Carrie Allen – Friendship and book love

What started as a mother-daughter book club when our daughters were in the third grade has turned into a deep friendship for the girls but also for the moms, enduring different classes and even moves to new towns and schools. We decided from the beginning it would be only six girls with their six mamas and we would stick to that with no new additions.  Each month whoever hosts picks a book and invites everyone over –  sometimes for tea, lunch, or dinner, or as you’ll see here an end of school year celebration, birthday and trip to the beach, complete with a lively book discussion of course.

Over the years what was initially simply a book club has become a forum for growing up.  We discuss books and their themes, however as each month passes and years slip into new years, we are all growing older together and discussing life issues – both girls and moms.  The world and growing up can sometimes be confusing but having a safe place to really talk about your ideas, thoughts or even a favorite song or cookie for that matter makes life fun.

My daughter was turning 12 when it was her turn to host this past June so she asked if we could roll it into a birthday celebration.  Never one to shy away from a party I said of course; however, an afternoon book club turned into a 24-hour extravaganza complete with an overnight slumber party, a trip to Crane Beach where the girls relaxed, soaked up the sun, took a dip in the very cold water, and built a pyramid. After our picnic lunch the girls took a break to come up with creative company ideas and pitch tv commercials for their new products. Simply amazing.

In addition to the wonder of lasting and deepening friendships, the passion for reading new books has stood the test of time.  Sometimes we miss a month or several, but we know we always have our book club, each other, and a new story to dive into.

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John Aylward – Living Arts

We all need time out of doors and away from it all, not just because we need to unplug, but because we need the quiet solitude of something beyond culture to inspire. Ask the greats, and quiet time is necessary. I take my quiet time, whenever I can, at the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge. It’s an hour from the city, but a best-kept secret. Few realize its one of our country’s largest bird sanctuaries.

The Atlantic offers a particular kind of meditation that is healing and inspiring all at once. And while that’s true no matter what time of year, for me that best time is August. The water is as warm as it will be. Maybe just as essential as having a passion that drives you is having a passion for what rejuvenates you.

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Wave Traces. Sandy Point, Plum Island.

John Aylward

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John Aylward is a composer, performer and writer who lives in Cambridge, MA.