Clarity and Lavender Fields in Provence

Clarity. My new favorite word. I see clearly. Life is free from obscurity and easy to understand. I have clarity in my vision. Ahh. I like it.

I was thinking today of the Lavender Fields of Provence and envisioning them pulsing with an aura of golden light. And me standing on the road with my bicycle and a person of mystery. We are enjoying the day, enjoying the view, enjoying each other in this far away place. It's fun to see myself there in my visions. Here ... at the 12th century Senanque Abbey north of Gordes (photo by Jordi Brió).


Lavender fields are often bordered by golden bands of grain. That fits with my vision of the pulsing golden aura. But wait. Maybe that's inside of me.

Standing tall now. Happy. Alive and well. On an adventure with my mystery person. Traveling the world. Enjoying life. In Joy. Seeing clearly. Loving life.

- Raphaella Vaisseau

Contemplating Happiness

In my organizing and dusting bookcases I came across a book by Richard Carlson "You Can Be Happy No Matter What." I've never read it but there is was on my bookshelf. I've been contemplating happiness for weeks in preparation for the upcoming Landmark Education Seminar by the same title, starting in September. This might be a good time to read a chapter or two.

His opening paragraph goes like this: "Happiness! It's something that all of us want but that few of us ever achieve. It is characterized by feelings of gratitude, inner peace, satisfaction, and affection for ourselves and for others. Our most natural state of mind is one of contentment and joy." 

-Raphaella Vaisseau

Watching, Reading and Writing

I've been making a conscious effort to select lighter fare for my viewing and reading material. The other day I watched a 1999 movie with Diane Lane set in 1969: A Walk on the Moon. The sets alone were worth the ride, taking me back to the days of my youth when my family took summer vacations to cabins in Northern Minnesota. The cabin in this movie, however, was near Woodstock, NY. Nostalgia was rampant for me in the inner turmoil of the characters, the dynamics of the relationships and the visual reminders of my childhood and my own hippie days gone by. I loved, loved, loved it. The movie and my memories.

I found a book by Jennifer Weiner, "In Her Shoes" that was a far cry from the mysteries and suspense I have always preferred. It took a bit of getting used to because, instead of the fast escape into a world of an action thriller, the conversation of the book was familial, emotional and pushed some buttons inside me. Although not always easy to read, it was real. Through the pages I felt a sweet kinship with my sister and how our lives have weaved in and out through the years.

Both the movie and the book inspired me to stay the course to explore new books, movies, experiences, and see what opens up for me in the process. For one, reading and watching "slice of life" books and movies inspires me to write more.

My homework for this half of August is completion. I've taken on little things to finish (since the big things seem too big to complete at the moment). Easy things. Then perhaps, one day soon, I'll once again set the course to finishing the many books I have in process. For now, it's one step at a time. Breathe in, breathe out. Clean the linen closet, make a sales call, fill an order, make the bed. One thing at a time. My gift to myself each day is to write a short piece to share with you here in this blog. We all have stories to tell. Each one valuable to the whole.

- Raphaella Vaisseau

The Sun is Back - I'm so Happy

How did I ever live in Oregon where the rainy/cloudy season lasted three months? (No offense to all the lovely people who live in the Pacific Northwest.) This past week in Florida we had only FOUR days with cloudy, overcast skies and I was sure I was under the influence of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) - wait a minute ... SAD is depression in the WINTER! It's August! Oh oh. Must have been something else.

The rain I didn't mind so much. Thunderstorms are energizing. However, the incessant gray was a challenge for me this week. But, hooray! Today I was again in Florida bliss, loving the colors of the grass and flowers outside, and loving the light shining through my window on my art while I worked.

It's Friday night and I'm getting up early for the Farmer's Market tomorrow. Have a great weekend, everybody.

The Beauty of Nature's Artwork

I've been watching this plant grow over the past year, busting out of it's little pot and spilling seeds all over the ground making baby plants and creating a whole little garden on a tiny plot of earth by my front door. More photos are on my Flickr page.

-Raphaella Vaisseau

Dance as if no one's watching - An Irish Proverb and more

I've been wanting to redesign this magnet for years. Likewise, the longer version (which is more of a popularized modern-day version).

It rained in Venice again today. Making art that looks like sunshine and happy days was a lift to my spirits as the overcast skies continued through the afternoon.

I also painted a new abstract version of Namaste for a client in Hong Kong. Perhaps these new paintings will brighten your day as well.

All Nature's wildness - a quote by John Muir

Thunderstorms in Florida seem louder than anywhere else I’ve lived. It’s like the sky is closer here – twenty feet up instead of twenty miles. I have no idea if that’s real or an illusion of sound. I’ll probably get used to all the racket the longer I live here. For now, I’m enjoying it and marveling, once again, at the power of Mother Nature.

I haven't experienced a Florida hurricane yet. I hear we have a few days warning for that, unlike an earthquake.

I've been in a major earthquake (Northridge, Jan. 17, 1994). A frightening experience, to say the least. The sound of glass breaking all around me, and the gushing water from the toilet that had been dislodged from the pipes - all the furniture on the floor, doors blocked. Oh my.

My house was not nearly as damaged as my daughter's. She was closer to the epicenter. Days and months of aftershocks continued that experience. Earthquakes (the little tremors that made the lights shake) had been kind of "fun" up until then. After that day, I gained a new respect for power of nature and forevermore, I take preparedness seriously.

One summer day in Minneapolis, Minnesota, a waterspout (mini-tornado) hit our beach blanket at Lake Calhoun and lifted my daughter and her friend up and deposited them down on the sand again about 30 feet away. That was the most direct hit I've had at the hands of Mother Nature. I watched it form across the lake and travel on the surface of the water on a path that looked like it was aiming right for us. It picked up a sailboat on the shore before touching down on our blanket. Sand was drilled into my scalp. The entire beach population fled like wild banshees running for our lives.

Ah, memories. John Muir's quote (above) captures Nature's majesty for me. Having lived in the SF Bay area for over eight years, I walked in the redwood forests of Muir Woods many times. It is a cathedral of a place where I always felt a communion with this man's spirit. John Muir founded The Sierra Club and was responsible for preserving large nature areas and western forests. He petitioned Congress for the National Parks Bill (which passed in 1899), establishing both Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks. Read more about John Muir here (including a visit with Ralph Waldo Emerson in 1871). I remain eternally grateful for his gift of preservation of our earthly wilderness lands as well as his expression of beauty, passion, and love in his writing.

-Raphaella Vaisseau