Skip to main content

Hidden Treasures

The City is big busy place - but around every corner, if you pay close enough attention, there are hidden things of beauty.
Inside a weeping birch at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. You have to push aside the drooping branches and go inside their circle to see this. Everything carved on it is either single initials or name-heart-name.
Pacifico is a restaurant on Pacific St. It's tiny, on the back of another building and you wouldn't know it was there unless you were looking for it. But it's also delicious.
In the back of a pavilion on the northern edge of Prospect Park there is a grand piano. There for anyone to play, it has a few pieces of sheet music but you're free to bring or improvise your own. It's a public service project - there are several pianos scattered throughout the City.
When you walk, you look at the sidewalk 3 feet in front of you. And normally what you see is a dirty, old, stained, cracking slab of concrete. But a pottery studio on Union St has embedded chunks of pretty glass in the sidewalk for a several block radius around their shop.
Riding the train one day, I looked down to see a woman knitting. The needles, her yarn and her hands were beautiful - I couldn't resist snapping a shot.
Sir Winston Churchill Square, which I never would have found had I not accidentally turned a corner 10 feet too soon on my way to work one morning. It's small, as most of their parks are, but surprisingly secluded for being off 6th Ave in the middle of Manhattan.
And finally, a rooftop retreat, visible only from the top few floors of one nearby office building. There are gems of beauty every where, and in every situation - we just have to look.


Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…