The Insanity That Is Game Of Thrones

My first, second, third, fourth and fifth exposures to Game of Thrones had me convinced it was a misogynist's tale of rape and boobies. I wanted nothing to do with it, but the zealotry of its followers kept me coming back to give it another go.

Then I sprained my knee on a course in India, a course riddled with Game of Thrones fanatics, and ended up on bedrest in Ranikhet for two weeks. Thanks to the wisdom, generosity and foresight of a friend, the branch was stocked with a complete set of the series. 

So I fell under the spell of the Song of Fire and Ice the same way I fell under the spell of Harry Potter, by accident not design.

And I fell HARD.

The series is around 1,770,000 words so far and there are two more books in the works. Legions of people around the world are praying that the author, George R. R. Martin, doesn't croak before he finishes writing the story.

What makes these books so compelling? 

It's astounding how fully the author realizes the world of this epic saga. It's saying something that the narrative has proven to be a coherent whole so far despite the massive scale of this literary undertaking. George R. R. Martin doesn't appear to leave loose ends, consistently coming back to elaborate on seemingly minor details thousands of pages later. 

The series is also really fun to read in community. When I returned to the field, everyone was somewhere in the story and eager to discuss clues and theories. It felt like we were attempting to unravel a giant and complex mystery together, a mystery that required all hands on deck to solve.

So you see, as a team player, I have to weigh in...

Having finished what's currently published, here are some of my hunches, hopes and questions:

• Theory numero uno is that Jon Snow is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, making his story a song of fire and ice.
• I want to know what happened to all the missing bachelor uncles (Gerion Lannister, Benjen Stark, and I feel like there is someone else I am forgetting). 
• What's the deal with the White Walkers? What's their end game? I like Jon's impulse to better understand them. 
• Is Tyrion's Tysha the Sailor's Wife in Braavos? In any case, I want Tyrion and Tysha to meet up again.
• I want Stoneheart to deal with Petyr Baelish.
• Jaime and Brienne's romantic duel is going to end badly, with full servings of death, redemption, love, and sacrifice. I don't know who is going to die, but I suspect Jaime. 
• How is Jon Snow going to not fully die? Because he is definitely not dead dead.
• Lightbringer. How? Where? What? When? Is Lightbringer going to be born during Jaime and Brienne's duel?
• I can't wait for Arya to reunite with any of her family members. 
• Theon. I am so tired of Theon. What's his value in all of this? What's the larger role he has to play?
• And I am over Cersei's incompetent, hellbitch ways. And I don't think walking naked across King's Landing makes up for the waste of time and energy that are her and her exploits.
• A fun game to play is who would you put on Daenerys' queensguard and small council. That said, I have forgotten too many names to play this game well. 
• Who will ride Viserion and Rhaegal?

There's a lot to ponder and with every day that passes since I finished the last book, I am loosing my grasp on the storyline. The television series, while visually sumptuous and well cast on the whole (Peter Dinklage), isn't helping as it went off the rails without George R.R.'s guidance in Season 5. 

What's a fan to do? Trawl the internet for crumbs and wait. 

Awkwafina's A Genius

Flights of Fancy

I continue to be awed by those among us who have the courage to identify and express themselves as artists. 

I've been thinking a lot lately about the definition of art. Mary Oliver says that attention and feeling together yield the beginnings of devotion. Being an artist then, by my definition, is devoting yourself to creating something of value. 

Given that we measure the health of an ecosystem by its levels of biodiversity and interconnection, it follows that we cultivate community resiliency when we turn towards each other with love rather than fear and seek to bring forth the artistry within ourselves and others. 

A quote from the Gnostic Gospels that I have always loved is when Jesus says, "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you." 

If we take that to be true, coming into the full expression of ourselves as artists is both service and salvation on every level, from the micro to the macro.

El Perro Dice, "Guau, Guau!"

My husband is pretty amazing when trying to recall the Spanish he learned in grade school. My favorite of the gems he unearthed for our honeymoon in Spain was, "El perro dice, 'Guau, guau!'" which translates as "The dog says, 'Woof, woof!'" 

That was way better than when Evan mimicked a fake french accent while at dinner with FRENCH people at a FRENCH refugio in FRANCE. I was driven under the table with embarrassment while Evan delighted in my distress.  

Happily, I fell in love with him all over again while driving back to Barcelona in our toy car (a rental we scored for $172) with my head in his lap as he sang along to the country song "Love Without End, Amen", tears rolling down his cheeks as he listened to the lyrics. 

Other highlights? 

The quality of the time we shared in Spain was unlike any other we had experienced together during our relationship. To have a month of time without obligations or responsibilities meant that each day could unfold according to its own logic. It was a revelation. 

We lived in a little stone cottage in the tiny village of Santa María de Buil, around halfway along the southwestern slope of the Pyrenees. We rented it for $650 from a lovely English couple-- both mountaineers, the wife is a dance choreographer and the husband works as a graphic designer, but was writing a book on baking bread. The house was a cross between a wooden ship and a mountain hut, chock full of bulk organic flours and earl grey teas that we were given free reign to enjoy. 

We picked rosemary from outside the front door, baked fresh bread and dipped it in olive oil. Walked through medieval towns perched on scenic hilltops. We looked at the stars through the window over our bed at night. We read. We drank wine from local vineyards.

We also went canyoneering and learned that the wet canyons of Spain require a different approach than those of the arid Southwest. 

Serendipitously, we ended up dropping Barranco Aigueta de Barbaruens with a guide and his clients-- a step up from our adventures with a Spanish language canyoneering book we'd bought in Barcelona upon arrival. Evan and the guide geeked out together about rope systems and, because of the guide's knowledge of the canyon, we took a much more fun and aggressive approach to the waterfalls and waterslides than we would have on our own.

We went on a two day jaunt through the Pyrenees as well, beginning in Parque Nacional Ordesa y Monte Perdido. Hiking hut to hut is a game changer when you've been earning your dollars hoofing it with everything on your back for so long. Nutella crepes at Refuge Bayssellance amidst stunning alpine scenery? Yes, and yes again.

We were lucky enough to see dear ones who are not usually so near on either end of our time in Aragon. Hovey and Abby rolled out the red carpet and we soaked up the cosmopolitan riches of Barcelona as well as their fabulous company-- ferris wheel rides overlooking the water, booze and a 360 degree view on the Hotel Raval's rooftop terrace, dinner at La Perla de Oro.

Una luna de miel inolvidable. Gracias, España.  

We Got Married. For Real.

(click on the pic for more photos et all)

Wow. 

I didn't grow up expecting to get married, so I think there was a part of me that arrived at the moment having never truly pictured myself there. 

Wow. 

It's safe to say I have never felt such sustained and unadulterated joy before in my life.

Wow. 

I was surprised to loose all sense of the larger event and to only be able to focus on what was immediately in front of me. An overwhelming amount of stimuli meant letting go of an awareness of what was happening around me in order to be fully present with the person or people I was with. 

Wow. 

I treasure the unexpected gift of my Nanna's strong presence and loving support throughout this transition in my life. Ironically (since my grandmother passed away a handful of years ago), I have never felt closer to her than I did during the months leading up to our wedding. 

Wow. 

It was humbling to have our friends and relations rally together on our behalf-- showing up for, setting up, and taking down our entire wedding. We didn't even realize the scope of their efforts until after the whole thing was a wrap. Thousands of light bulbs later, we owe the Freeds our firstborn child. 

Wow. 

I had no idea Rose's blessing was waiting for me in the wings. I am so grateful that she caught, held and cleansed me as I embarked on this new adventure.

Wow. 

I would never have anticipated the myriad ways the universe communicated to us that something noteworthy was afoot. 

Wow. 

For that and so many other things, I feel truly blessed. 

Middle Aged And Excessively Boasting

"[Student who shall not be named] is TOTALLY heartthrob material when it comes to middle aged women. Right, Anna?" So asks one of my seventeen year old students on this last field course.

Right as rain on both counts. 

Turns out a good human is an attractive human to women in their middle years. Turns out I am one of those women. Despite the enduring acne, thirty six makes it kind of official-- I am no longer on the side lines of middle age, but a player on the field.

Not a problem. Just realizing I need to adjust my self image to keep up with the times. 

As per usual, my birthday was spent in the mountains. This time it fell amidst thunder, lightning and hail-- simply the best when you're warm and dry in a tent with hot drink in hand. 

Coming out of the mountains, I was greeted by messages from my expanding family... 

This is the family I was born into. Since my parents have been divorced for awhile now, it means a lot to me to see these four together like this. I am not sure why they're all orange in these shots, but they are. And I still love them so much.  

This photo was waiting for me as well:

I got to see this man FOUR times in the field. Say what?! I know. FOUR TIMES! It was a birthday miracle. And at home? A clean house filled with hidden notes (all of which I think I found in the first hour). Evan knows me well. The thought of sharing the rest of my life with this guy leaves me overwhelmed with gratitude, joy, you name it-- if it's good, it's true. 

    

But wait, there's more! The text and voice messages. If I knew how to post them I would, just so you could hear Pearle and Livia singing if nothing else.

My heart runneth over. 

So, thirty six? Well worth the grey hairs so far.
  

One, Two, Three...

Counting things on BuzzFeed equals awesome when work is slow. 

Because can we ever really pay too much attention to fashion wins of the '70s or Bob Ross (may he rest in peace)? 

Rhetorical question. 

1.

It was Chaz and Craig's first invite to a big Hollywood party.

3.

Fabio and his ladyfriend, Star, fancy themselves Disco Ninjas. Everyone else on that yacht is dead.

10.

The belted sweater might have ended up becoming a fashion craze, but it all began with this man, Jacques Stromboli, a man so sexy sexy that his clothes were known to spontaneously fall off. And so he was forced to belt his sweaters as extra protection.

1. Set lofty goals.

4. You can achieve anything you set out to do.

7. We learn from everything we do. There are no mistakes.

     

Real question: What is up with Bob Ross' hair and is it magic?