Houston and the Live Oak Meeting House

Did you know that Houston is the 4th largest city in the USA? We didn't, until we decided to visit there. But despite its size, Houston still has the friendliness of a small town. It's true that we got on one of the various freeways here and counted ten lanes of traffic! Billy was exclaiming about it and he's from Baltimore -- one of the most congested cities in the USA.

Perhaps our happiness with Houston has to do with where we chose to go. I've already written about Rothko Chapel, the Menil Collection, and the Brazoria county fair. Yesterday, we went to what was my first visit to a Quaker meeting and Billy's second -- many years ago he visited the Sandy Spring meeting in Olney, Maryland. I had always wanted to go to a meeting because I wondered how I would feel meditating with a group of people for an hour. What I noticed most was how very elusive silence is. Children cough, parents unwrap lozenges, a person arrives with a breathing apparatus that sounds like the heartbeat of the earth, people shift in their seats, sneeze. Should I close my eyes or look up at Turrell's Skyspace? My neck hurts from looking up at the Skyspace. Maybe I should look forward. Maybe I should close my eyes. Repeat. repeat. repeat. And, already, it's over!

I loved Quaker meeting and wrestling with silence. I loved the people we met -- so open and full of conversation. I loved that we had a potluck and sat outside like a family. I loved that I could be among a faith community that celebrates peace and kindness to all creatures. I loved being in "church" again. I hope we can come back to the Live Oak Meeting on our way home. 

Brazoria County Fair

Report from the Brazoria County Fair south of Houston in Angleton, Texas: In Brazoria, spangles reign. I have never seen so many cowboy boots, jeans, patterned shirts, and spangles congregated in one place -- men and women, both, had rhinestones and pearls on their jeans, belts, and shirts. Nor have I ever felt I was more of a hippie-intellectual-art-loving-vegetarian-flower-child of flower children. Billy and I stuck out among these thousands of people to the point that we got polite stares -- I almost felt I was back in Japan. But the other thing about Brazorians is they are Texans, and like nearly all of the Texans we meet, terrifically welcoming. We were completely adopted by a girl and her father. She was showing a cow named Duchess. They introduced us to Kelly whose son's steer may win the fair. He is a steer from Wisconsin bred by the May family whose son came down from Wisconsin to groom the steer just for the Brazoria county fair. We met a grand prize winning pig named Uno who weighed as much as Billy and me put together. And we felt the wiry hair and warm pink skin of some pigs who have already met their end this morning after not being chosen to be part of a breeding herd. County fairs are not for the faint of heart or vegetarians, either, I'm afraid. But, I will always remember running my hand along the back of this gentle Steer and feeling the thrilling softness of his coat. And I will also remember the gracious Brazorians in their boots and spangles.

Clouds & Rothko

Report from Rothko Chapel in the Montrose neighborhood of Houston, Texas: When I was a kid, my parents took me to see a Contemporary Art exhibit in Boston (thanks Marcella & Greg). My favorite work was a Mark Rothko painting. The pulsing, mutable canvas reminded me of clouds and how I could dream up stories in their movements. In the last 24 hours I posted clouds and so did Rosemary, Em Dee, and Alison. Clouds are telling us something. 

Rothko Chapel is a place of meditation and Billy and I have wanted to experience being there for so many years. But since we don't live in Houston, I'm glad we have clouds. They are a Rothko painting we can carry with us. Here's to looking up and out, with love.

Clouds & Rothko

Report from Rothko Chapel in the Montrose neighborhood of Houston, Texas: When I was a kid, my parents took me to see a Contemporary Art exhibit in Boston (thanks Marcella & Greg). My favorite work was a Mark Rothko painting. The pulsing, mutable canvas reminded me of clouds and how I could dream up stories in their movements. In the last 24 hours I posted clouds and so did Rosemary, Em Dee, and Alison. Clouds are telling us something. 

Rothko Chapel is a place of meditation and Billy and I have wanted to experience being there for so many years. But since we don't live in Houston, I'm glad we have clouds. They are a Rothko painting we can carry with us. Here's to looking up and out, with love.

New Caney Flying J

Report from the Flying J Truck Stop just north of Houston at New Caney, Texas: The thing to know is that, in Texas, the Sheriffs haul around horses just in case they get a call that involves some travel over the range. There were three of them here, Sherrif's I mean, to eat a Denny's breakfast which makes me think of our friend Al in London who has always wanted to eat at Denny's. Since the only time we eat at Denny's is after running a half-marathon, we ate cereal and fruit in the Airstream. On a personal note, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the 99% humidity here means that my hair is fashionably curly today.