Friday, May 13, 2022

Art-less ... before bursting out all over

Beginning the week I sigh, "I've made no art in a long time." I've had no capacity for creativity for weeks.

By Friday, the house is bursting with color. Sometimes, you just have to remember what's missing in your life. And suddenly, there it is.

Sunday, May 8, 2022 - Mothers Day (in the West)

Kristi helps BIC kids honor their mothers; they choose a cross from her basket and present it to their moms as a small token of gratitude. International faith communities are fun and flexible. We're designed to serve English speakers and learners - foreign and local.

After the BIC gathering, it's time for Community Table - an hour of snacks and conversation.

Then Clau, Kat, Nicole, and helpers host a garage sale - they're great sellers and bargainers. 

Putting it on would be a nightmare for me. Clau and her daughter Kat thrive. At points, it's a crush. Everyone seems to find something - and the money goes to fund several projects. There's enough left over for a second sale, maybe in a few weeks.

When we get home, W asks what I want to eat. I'm hungry for lettuce wraps so I make them myself. We have lettuce, an apple, and mushrooms inside the barely-cool fridge. I sliver the apples, wash the lettuce, and fry the mushrooms in butter while W orders smoked brisket from #Roastman down the hill. Combined with a dab of hoisin sauce and a glass of mango juice, it hits the spot for both of us.

No fridge repair all week from the LT dealer. It's been 4 weeks since the fridge quit = a long time for W to swap frozen jerry cans from freezer to fridge: the big stainless box in the kitchen is more a "cooler" than a refrigerator.

A university press sends an article: would I be their first editor? The paper is well written so that's no problem, I have it back to the publisher within a few hours. Leaving such a random task on my laptop is a certain recipe for amnesia.

Company in the afternoon is a pleasure: a Dutch dad and son pop in for a chat. The student is from the Netherlands. He's considering learning language and a doing textile internship at a factory in Bandung. When Clau and Josh stop by after the garage sale, we introduce them, too. (Josh coaches young entrepreneurs so the meeting may offer mutual benefit in the future.)

"Need a social network?" we ask. We introduce him to a young expat who is a connector.

I tackle words and more words from language school in the evening and tidy up after a week without helpers. The Roomba buzzes around. It tosses lint and dirt in the dustbin from the living room. But we leave today's dishes for tomorrow. It's Mothers Day, after all.

Monday

We have an extra day off language school as people return from post-Ramadan visits to family. I'm in online meetings from 7-11:30.

14 hours ahead of the West Coast (Canada), I wish Mom a Happy Mothers Day between 4 other calls. It's nice to hear how she was honored by others during her day. Our kids send notes and videos.

Yay, a break for lunch. I plan a rest, review, and relaxation for the afternoon. I review the words from 2 weeks ago. We spoke too quickly the vocabulary is tangled up in my mind. For example, mengirim and menyiram. Totally different meanings (= send something vs watering the garden).

This week our driver is helping his sister get married 4 hours away (except it takes him 10-12 hours in post-Ramadan traffic ... on a motorcycle. A car would have taken much longer.) He sends pictures. She's lovely in traditional clothing and makeup.

Tuesday

Walk. Record videos for next week with W. Team meeting.

I've been lamenting not making time to paint. So I snatch an hour for the two ideas that have been simmering for over a month.

The canvas is primed with water and acrylics. The plan comes together with a shower squeegee and tissue. No brush.

The first painting is "The halls women walk through." I want to capture the options, decisions, and encounters along the way. As usual, I am drawn to bright colors and mixes. I outline the 3 women with a white gel pen and am done.
Using paint left on the squeegee and another blank canvas, I put my impression of the war forts we pass on Thursday walk. We love to explore the old places above the city. The concrete mountain caves, remnants from past wars, evoke strong emotions.

I imagine young men taking refuge. I move the squeegee down and through until I feel the painting settle in. Such a different outcome with the same materials and tools.
In real life, the forts are overgrown with moss and plants. Inside is spare other than the graffiti that defaces the cement. It rained last time we went through, withs a great water puddle in the entry. I took this photo from atop the fort, looking back out the surrounding wall. (Melvi stood there for scale. Thanks!)
My brain is in a fog at the start of language class. In the first break, I eat a piece of chocolate for caffeine. It helps a bit.

During the second break, I have a "sleep" chocolate with melatonin. Adversely, melatonin wakes me up, focuses my attention, and banishes the clutter in my head.

Much better. Melatonin a great help when we are going to be in a crowd, too.  Of course, I tried it a few times for sleep when I bought it. What a bad idea. It works best as a charger when there's too much going on.

I'm advisor for a dissertation. The doctoral student is in town, working on it. He prints and delivers a rough draft; he'll drop by for my observations tomorrow.

Wednesday
After a walk, W works on editing videos while I do a rough edit on the dissertation chapter. It's always messy at the start of a research project. How I miss teaching my Research Methods classes; these kinds of edits are what I do each night after students hand in their assignments. The progress in writing skills can be remarkable with a week of feedback.
W and I walk to Miss Bee for a late (9:15) breakfast with friends and their family. Propped on the column is an East German motorbike from who-knows-when!
School is online so there's no commute to town, which I appreciate. We struggle through our recent vocabulary and acquire a new set to memorize.

Ibu S pops the fragrant branches pruned off the garage roof yesterday into a vase. The purple and white blooms scent the living room.
John comes by after my class ends. He leaves with instructions on how to move forward. He has a good thesis, which I look forward to applying. That's the fun of being an advisor: you come alongside someone else's ideas and learn from their research.

Thursday
We walk through the tea field and adjoining forests. The roads and paths are overgrown - the dogs run ahead to scatter wild things lurking in the tall grasses.
The concrete bridge that fell into the creek after a rainstorm has been replaced by a bamboo bridge that flexes as we cross.

The old tea plants have been chopped back.
Great swaths of impatiens grow between rows of pruned shrubs, crating a pink glow across the hillside.
The cloud cover holds without a rainstorm.We walk in overcast and cool/er (high 70s) temps. It's perfect walking weather.
In the shade, this flower doesn't look impressive until you get closer: it is veiled by lacy strings with little pearls on each thread.
In parts, the trees have fallen or grown across the trail as we walk in a tunnel of green.

Our destination for this short (5 km) walk is a gushing waterfall. The steps down are steep and littered with 6" blossoms, fallen from the trees above us.
Just before we leave the fields, I dig up some moss (tossed into the sink overnight) for Sunday's flower arrangement. I don't know if our florist is back yet. I have a branch structure, bromeliads from the yard, and dried braids of leaves from an arrangement years ago. Won't need more than that.

For lunch, we come back into the neighborhood for a view across the valley between us and the next mountain. 40 years ago, this was rice paddies. Now it's house on house.
I order ribs for $4. The meal includes rice, pickled veggies, hot sauce, and a delicious broth. I'd order it again.
The leaf tea is served in glass pots and little cups on a tray.
We stop at the "foreign" grocer before coming home. Besides basics, I'm looking for a sauce for udon noodles. "Mr Setiabudi" (Pak A) finds me browsing and leads me to the NE Asia section. We can't find it - it's kosong (out) -  so he has his staff to order it on the spot. They take my phone number: "We'll call you as soon as it comes in." 
Toko Setiabudi's customer service is unparalleled in Bandung. The store is beloved: if they don't carry what you need, they'll try to stock it for the next time you come.

In the evening, a mom and son drop by for tea and banana bread. Susi brings homemade mocchi, which we share with the gals upstairs. Our conversation centers around the goodness and kindness of God as parents train their children and children train their parents.

They donate over a dozen pairs of new shoes - trendy and cute - which we begin to distribute.

Friday
W and I stop by the office to see how things are going. The shelves hold books already read and more wanting to be read. (There are three more shelves beside these, unusual in a city where few people have bookshelves.) We loan out books that can't be purchased here.
Before language school, I make a 3-foot tall (1 meter) bouquet for Sunday. The glow of the red bromeliads doesn't show up in the photo.
But when I walk past the bouquet I made 2 weeks ago, it's still fine. Should we just use that?
Ruth sends 20 blush roses to the gate. I arrange a classical shape in a big Chinese pot. It's tall enough to skim the lamp hanging over the coffee table.. So we have a third alternative for Sunday at BIC.
On a trip through the garden this morning, I picked a hydrangea and a big leaf. The branch was sitting outside, too. The house is bursting with nature.
After language school, our brains are full. W guides Kristi and me down the hill to OBC, a sport center and food court. This funny sign greets us at a chicken-and-rice vendor: someone has a sense of humor.
The Kim's Chick is excellent. At $1.40, that's a big bowl of chicken and rice.
The noodles are delicious, too. There's plenty left over for one or two meals tomorrow.
W orders Dragon Rolls from the sushi place for about the same price. Yum - it tastes fishy-er than fresh Seattle sushi but W likes it.
The thunder rumbles while we speed back up the hill. Thankfully, the rain holds off. In the course of the day, we've walked further than on yesterday's hike.

We study the new vocabulary and thank God it's the weekend.

Read more:
*O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. Psalm 30:2

Jesus said to him, “Go home to your friends, and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and what mercy he has shown you.” Mark 5:19

Moravian Prayer: Divine Healer, you listen to our prayers when we are hurting. Sometimes it is hard to listen to your voice amidst our fears and anxieties. Open our ears and our hearts to your response, and accept our grateful praise. Amen.

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