Named for the sunrise viewing of Sirius, the dog star within the constellation Canis Major. These late summer days can be sweeter than heaven, and yet hotter than hell.
I have been invited by Parachute.com to compile my own list of summer sleeping essentials.
Here are my MUST HAVES for sweet dreams on hot summer nights.
I have taken some time off from my over scheduled life, to hit the dusty road and explore a few new places. From live music to snow capped mountains, here are a few highlights from my adventures traveling around the USA.
A perfect opportunity to explore Carmel Hill, and see the amazing design ideas of the Spanish mastermind, Gaudi.
Gaudi absolutely detested, straight lines.
He embraced curvature found in nature, and formed his designs around this principle.
Tile is no acceptation to this rule. Every section of mosaic is laid out on a convex, or concave surface. This gives a feeling of surreal wonder and captivates the imagination.
The main courtyard is lined with ergonomic benches decorated in an assortment of
multi colored and patterned tiles.The hight of the courtyard offers lovely panoramic views of Barcelona, as well as the Mediterranean sea. An enticing place to rest weary feet, watch the
parrots, and people as the day goes by.
The arched stone pathway leading around the park has an organic flow nature would envy. A cobble stone of rocks come together to form stalagmites and stalactites. They become the supports for the curved wall and ceiling of the covered walkway.
Under the outdoor courtyard is an open area supported by massively huge, stone columns. The ceiling is intricately detailed with a mosaic of repurposed tile, ceramic, and glass. Small pops of color in pleasing color pallets, make a large impact. Adding a playful element, that gives intrigue to the other wise pale interior.
With surprises around every curve, the imagination can easily run wild.
Park Guell has become a place, near and dear to my own heart.
A home away from home, for my wildest imaginations.
I hope these photos, ignite your imagination.
I look forward to sharing more of my adventures in Spain, with you!
OPUS FROM SPACE "Almost everything I know is glad to be born—not only the desert orangetip, on the twist flower or tansy, shaking birth moisture from its wings, but also the naked warbler nestling, head wavering toward sky, and the honey possum, the pygmy possum, blind, hairless thimbles of forward, press and part.
Almost everything I’ve seen pushes toward the place of that state as if there were no knowing any other—the violent crack and seed-propelling shot of the witch hazel pod, the philosophy implicit in the inside out seed-thrust of the wood sorrel. All hairy saltcedar seeds are single-minded in their grasping of wind and spinning for luck toward birth by water.
And I’m fairly shocked to consider all the bludgeonings and batterings going on continually, the head-rammings, wing-furors, and beak-crackings, fighting for release inside gelatinous shells, leather shells, calcium shells or rough, horny shells. Legs and shoulder, knees and elbows flail likewise against their womb walls everywhere, in pine forest niches, seepage banks and boggy prairies, among savannah grasses, on woven mats and perfumed linen sheets.
Mad zealots, every one, even before beginning they are dark dust-congealings of pure frenzy to come into light.
Almost everything I know rages to be born, the obsession founding itself explicitly in the coming bone harps and ladders, the heart-thrusts, vessels and voices of all those speeding with clear and total fury toward this singular honor."
"Flake by flake falling softly, covering the ground in a white blanket. The trees whisper in the wind— snow, snow, snow they seem to say. Smoke is billowing from chimneys into the cloudless sky. A soft whoosh of the wind— I watch. I listen. I look at the setting sun. It goes down like a melting ice cream cone. Through the fog I can see the ocean lapping up the sand. The moon rises. I get into bed as I hear the chimes of winter. I shut my eyes and go to sleep."
As I walked throughout the display studio into a patio the led into a grassy courtyard,
I was greeted by letterpress printed gifts!
Tags with poems had been handprinted and displayed for guest to take away.
The trees and honeysuckle branches proudly displayed the poems as
they gently dances in the late afternoon breeze.
Sandy Tilcock's studio was brightly light and neatly displayed many pieces currently in the works.
The crown jewel of the room was the press affectionately nicknamed, "Phoebe".
I was so excited to pull sprint on this lovely machine, and jumped at the opportunity to do so!
The press ran smooth and clean and seemed to glide with little physical effort.
I was then invited into the lush garden courtyard.
Here I enjoyed a glass of Sparkling wine, nibbled on appetizers and met with friends.
It was a lovely way to wind up the day.
To learn more about Lone Goose Press
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