We have a friend who builds this incredible stone sculptures. I guess if you look at it from philosophical stand point –what begins with Nature, ends with Nature - a complete circle of life. He balances the stones, carefully analyzing the placement of each; and despite of the ocean breeze ultimately finds the center of gravity. And so, it almost seems, like through building these remarkable sculptures he attempts to find a center of gravity in his own life as well– there you go: a complete circle of life. He can sit there and continue building for hours; not disrupted by anything in this dangerous World; not weathered by any problems of life at the time of creation; not noticing anything except pouring of his own soul into a stone sculpture that becomes much more than just a piece of art. It is an attempt to find peace with yourself; try to demonstrate to the World who you are – how gentle, deep and patient your spirit is; how serene and unruffled your thought process at this moment; how committed you are to making it work - not only with each particular stone sculpture, but with your own life as well.

Mountain streams are exclusive…Not only the scent – you can take it in and imagine every adventure that the stream had to go through to reach you…Not only the energy with which streams polish stones and even boulders…But the infinite freshness, brightness, and novelty with which they amaze us every single time. I can sit by the stream and listen to its autumn lullaby…Quiet whisper of “Good Bye’s” to the falling leaves; hushed song of sympathy to the lonely exposed trees…I will never be tired of looking at stones lined up in amazing labyrinths at the bottom of the stream – variety of shapes, rainbow of colors, multiplicity of texture. Mountain streams…Powerful enough to grind down the mountains; fearless enough to dive into waterfalls; yet gentle enough to sing us to sleep.

It is almost Autumn…You can breathe it in with the wet smell of the land…Trees are wearing magical hats – little explosions of color, born out of nowhere in the perfectly blue sky…I am standing in the stream and the water feels so cold…In the reflection you can almost see the little stones saying “brr…” and shivering in the cold. It is still sunny and trees are as happy as I am to get the last of the sun before rainy season. The smell is incredible - it is a mixture of rejuvenated forest, leaves that are decaying on the ground, and mushrooms – all embellished since it has been raining. I am trying to take all of it in; enjoy these last days before leaves start changing and we will see the bursting beauty of Autumn. After that – long cold winter; gray skies; nippy air; state of the deep sleep…So join me in enjoying this Indian Summer - this last dance of green leaves, the quietness of the battle between Summer and Autumn, the first “Good Bye”…

So, I cut my hair today…Yes, I know what you are thinking– what’s new - million women do it every single day. But for me – since my last haircut was 22 years ago – it is a big deal. And surprisingly (or maybe not), I feel renewed – as much as my hairdo. Don’t get scared, I do understand that changing my looks really has very little to do with me changing my mentality or my thoughts, or my life for that matter. However, since my hair was such a big part of me I do believe that it is one of the first steps to a “new me”. For years I wouldn’t even consider cutting my hair. Then, during the time when I was undergoing chemotherapy, I couldn’t – I was holding on to the last of what was “original me” – it was so important to me, it was matter of life or death…And now, a year after my chemotherapy is over, I am innovated and so is my hair. No, it does not change who I am; it just helps me to demonstrate to everyone exactly who I am, me – renewed and ready for a new beginning in life!

To: Our lovely cat Boo

When your pet dies, part of you goes together with them…I wonder, if part of them stays with us – not haunting us, but protecting us, loving us and been as devoted as they were when they were while still alive. They settle in our hearts and in our memories, coming to cheer us when we are in a bad mood, and warm us up on the cold winter nights. Sometimes, for some narrow-minded people, pets become more or less part of the décor. But for us –for human beings with hearts- no, that is not true. Pets are our faithful companions; great friends that share our deepest secrets; always forgiving and always happy to see us – unconditional love. Do we treat them the same? I think we do…Loving them, appreciating that they become dependant on our care, our love, our friendship and loyalty. The commitment that we make when we take our little friends in, is not necessarily understood at the time; but as we grow together into one – we become one, and after death – we are still one – part of us guards peace for their souls, and part of them – in our hearts making our lives worth living!

John and I went to take pictures of an old house today…Just a house by the side of the road… One hundred, maybe two hundred years old.

I almost felt like an intruder. I am looking at the old, half destroyed house, exposed to the elements; weeping with an open mouth of its doors and broken windows to every car passing by. This, once elegant and cozy home, it’s soul now lost…

I imagine a young family leaning over blueprints for their first house years before you or I were ever born. All of their dreams are going to become true in this home, sweet home. Entire extended family is here to help out – women are working around the clock on preparing meals for their hard working husbands. Kitchen is filled with hot air, bursting of different smells, and of course, it is full of kids running around between their mothers not sure what else they can do to start some trouble…Mothers are to busy and, to be honest, tired to pay any attention. Men are working. House is coming along nicely and everyone is anticipating the last nail hammered in, and a big celebration for this new born family, and something much bigger than that. Big guest house for all the family members that will be visiting on Thanksgiving, Christmas, and of course birthdays of little additions to the family. That is the picture of life.

I see a big anniversary party. Full table, loud conversations, jokes and family stories making this house alive, fulfilling its dreams and desires of being home, sweet home. I can see numerous lights, slow dancing in the middle of the living room with fire place breathing out hot air to warm up everyone. On the second floor in their little beds, children are tucked in by their nanny. Bedtime story carries through the second floor and fills up minds of restless kids. Happy family…

Father out in the barn trades his secrets to his son in exchange for a perfect smile and these precious minutes spent together. Life is not easy, goes Dad, but you will always have your family and this home to come back to. Mother is in the kitchen fixing dinner with her little daughter, who at this point is causing more trouble than helping, but how dear these minutes of togetherness…Child jumps up and down, her hair flying like million tiny butterflies all over the kitchen and the aroma of dinner makes her hungry and inpatient. Upon mom’s command, she runs to the barn shouting “Dinner, dinner” and retrieves the men of the household. Candles are on the table, mountain view, family dinner in peace at the end of a long day…

What happened with all of that? Who decided to leave this house behind with all of its memories, voices, and pictures on the walls? How dare you to dispose of this as unnecessary trouble, turning it into emptiness and loneliness?! This house, that has hosted so many family events, celebrations, births and deaths; this house that can tell you its story if you would just stop for a moment and let your imagination wander in the empty rooms, guest cottage, old barn…All of it so lively some time ago, and so lonely today…I take pictures of this house, so once it is gone with the wind, it will still exist – at least in my memory if nothing else. I take these pictures almost religiously, trying to retain the memory of the home that has been loved once…I want to preserve this house for a next generation – for my children, so they can learn that home is not just a house; it becomes our home with its own soul once all of us breathe life into it, make it unique, safeguard it and love it. My heart cries together with this old house – empty, lonely, bare house that once was someone’s dear home…