Linnie Aikens Arts and Letters • HeART Haven Studios

People ask me why I practice Kung Fu San Soo.  “I just can’t picture you training in fighting!” they say.  “You’re so quiet and peaceful, sort of a hippie girl,” another friend said to me, grinning.  Perhaps my friends,Victor and Paul, (a Master and 5th degree black belt, respectively) termed it in a fashion that feels most fitting for me...  “A Peaceful Warrioress”   Victor captured and expressed it first with images and then Paul with words.  I was honored by both.

 
Belt Advancement to Green, Demonstration of use of Staff—Photo by Victor Sigismondi

It’s true, I am quiet, peaceful, observant most of the time.  I listen, think, feel, then express myself through paint or poetry.  I am not afraid of being alone.

And yet, you endanger or hurt one of my daughters, family or friends, or threaten the safety of my students, and a fierce strength reveals.  I become a warrioress.  In the wake of the horrific Connecticut shooting of children and teachers in a grammar school, I’d half-expected to hear comments around the teacher’s lounge along the lines of “I don’t get paid enough to do this job anymore.”  Well, actually, while that might be true, no one was saying it out of fear of such terrorism.  Every teacher I know would protect their students at all costs, not because they were paid to do so, but because they’re little children, and we love each and every one of them. We would stand in front of them to protect them without hesitation.  In a non-lifethreatening daily scenario, in my own semi-quiet way, I’ve always been an advocate for those who are voiceless or feel voiceless.  I make sure they are heard by me, and protected.  It’s often what pushes me forward in my writing.

But why Kung Fu San Soo, you ask?  At first I thought perhaps learning self-defense would be a good thing for a single woman to learn.  It is.  I’m much more confident now that I can protect myself should anything arise, but what I love is the foundation of character, integrity, peace, strength, discipline and grace it involves.  The people I train with exemplify that in so many ways, and the practice itself allows me to feel physically grounded and self-assured.  I don’t train in a competitive setting as in many studios.  Most of us are older, 45-65, although there are a few younger people off and on.  In terms of exercise, I love it that I can bring in my years of gymnastics training, in terms of balance, graceful, controlled, circular movements.  It makes me feel strong and graceful, even at 52.

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

 
Buttermilk Falls, Ithaca, NY

I flew to New York to spend Thanksgiving with my youngest daughter.  We hiked up to several waterfalls and watched the sunset. We drank coffee together when the sun rose.  She couldn’t wait for me to arrive because I was the only one she would trust to help her paint her kitchen and living room, she said.  For some reason, I took great joy in that knowledge!  Now that she is officially an adult, we were recreating our relationship as fellow adults, cooking and laughing together as we argued politics, economics and aesthetics, not to mention the best way to make buttermilk pancakes.  Not surprisingly, she outshone me in the kitchen, and we found ourselves evenly matched in our Bananagrams Tournament.

 

I laughed to discover that, like me, she opts for the longest and highest vocabulary rather than the fast and easy two-letter word strategy for winning.  It brought a private smile to my heart to realize how alike we are in many, many ways.  I keep this to myself, however.  She wouldn’t thank me to apprise her of these observations!  No one at 21 wants to think she’s like her mother!!  I’m not afraid to say that she is smarter, funnier, more creative and gifted than I am.  It pleases me more than I can express.  She is such a joy to me!

An unexpected treat was to see how much she enjoys hiking through the beautiful forests and hills of upstate New York.  This was the girl who told me at 9 years old, on a 5000 mile road trip through 12 national parks, that "if you've seen one mountain, you've seen 'em all!"  I'm so pleased that an appreciation for nature was planted despite her best efforts to resist when younger!  I think we girls did the same when I was young, but only I have carried that love of nature throughout my lifetime. 

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

Photographic Mural of foods at Santa Barbara Farmers Market Now on exhibit in Santa Barbara Public Schools Cafeterias
 

"Sol Food and Soul Food"

I hung an art exhibition at the Sol Food Festival today, and then I did one of my favorite things -- I photographed the Farmer’s Market, which was adjacent to the Festival this year.  One might laugh, but I feel the presence of something greater whenever I go to the Farmers’ Market.  A glimpse of my creator and creativity inspired.  I’ve created a number of photographic murals of this sort for various organizations and schools in town.  Food of the Sol (Sun in Spanish), beauty for the Soul.  Visiting Farmers’ Market also speaks to the heart--the heart of a community.  People meander, smelling with eyes closed in wonder, tasting new flavors, talking with neighbors, catching up, laughing, listening to troubadours ....    all of it a divine sensuality that extends far beyond the usual understanding of the word.  I feel alive here.

I’m thankful for this gift, especially in a time of sadness and impending loss, uncertainty...   I’m reminded that there is something, someone greater than myself ...  I take another fortifying breath, nourished by the sol/soul food in my life, and face the next challenge ahead.  

Sol="sun" in Spanish (light, energy, action)

Sun = Son (Christ) in my faith (life-giving, sustaining and blessing)

.....for the "soul"

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

This sentiment was hewn into a bench  at the entrance to the preserve where I walked today.  It occurred to me that there was a time where that thought would not have appealed to me.  I am drawn to nature and sometimes solitude.  All of this is good, but I wonder if I hadn’t preferred it a little too much to spending time with people in the past.  A bit of a loner, perhaps.   It’s difficult to love and give to others when one keeps herself isolated too much of the time.  Fear?  Self-centeredness?  Artist Temperament?  Probably some of all in varying measure.

Living through one’s  middle years one has the opportunity to pause, reflect, reprioritize.  For me it has been a path of learning in terms of slowing down, being less concerned with accomplishments and more with listening to others.  I take time to listen and talk on the trails now, getting to know my “neighbors.”   I’m discovering that being patient with others and myself is much more rewarding than being right or “the best”.   Using my creativity not for accolades but to express my gratefulness to the ultimate creator and to enrich the lives of others, is far better for my soul.  It is my time to give back. 

On another note, I do think Americans in the US don’t realize how unique a privilege it is to have solitude, quiet, room to walk, live and work ---privacy.  We might expect our own bedrooms, single dwelling homes, right to privacy, and to ‘be given one’s space,” whereas peoples in other cultures, other lands really have no concept of this idea.  They spend more time with their families and friends, honor and take care of their aging relatives in their homes, always plan social events that include their children.   Mayhaps we as Americans could learn from other cultures in how to think less of themselves and better appreciate and honor people.

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

This sentiment was hewn into a bench  at the entrance to the preserve where I walked today.  It occurred to me that there was a time where that thought would not have appealed to me.  I am drawn to nature and sometimes solitude.  All of this is good, but I wonder if I hadn’t preferred it a little too much to spending time with people in the past.  A bit of a loner, perhaps.   It’s difficult to love and give to others when one keeps herself isolated too much of the time.  Fear?  Self-centeredness?  Artist Temperament?  Probably some of all in varying measure.

Living through one’s  middle years one has the opportunity to pause, reflect, reprioritize.  For me it has been a path of learning in terms of slowing down, being less concerned with accomplishments and more with listening to others.  I take time to listen and talk on the trails now, getting to know my “neighbors.”   I’m discovering that being patient with others and myself is much more rewarding than being right or “the best”.   Using my creativity not for accolades but to express my gratefulness to the ultimate creator and to enrich the lives of others, is far better for my soul.  It is my time to give back. 

On another note, I do think Americans in the US don’t realize how unique a privilege it is to have solitude, quiet, room to walk, live and work ---privacy.  We might expect our own bedrooms, single dwelling homes, right to privacy, and to ‘be given one’s space,” whereas peoples in other cultures, other lands really have no concept of this idea.  They spend more time with their families and friends, honor and take care of their aging relatives in their homes, always plan social events that include their children.   Mayhaps we as Americans could learn from other cultures in how to think less of themselves and better appreciate and honor people.

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

“Why do you blog?  How can you expose yourself to the public like that?”  I have been asked these questions, and those similar to them a lot these days by those close to me.  The answer is simple really.  I feel God calls me to share what I’ve learned and have been taught through life rather than squirrel it away in dusty journals stored in some box in my attic.  What would be the point?   I have been given the opportunity of a rich and a’times adventure filled life, both physically and emotionally, and for whatever reason, God gave me the gift of reflection and ways to express it. 

“What makes you think you have anything someone would care to read?” Ah!  You sound like my own self-talk for the past 30 years--hence those 42 dusty journals!  I, personally, don’t think I was set on earth to be some oracle of wisdom, if that’s what you’re thinking.  I’m an ordinary woman.  What I have been told over and over and over again throughout life is that my life’s journey should be shared.  JOURNEY....not destination or achievements....my journey.  The good, the bad, the ugly---and what I’ve learned through it.  If it resonates or helps someone, then I am happy.  For most, it might be overwraught drivel perhaps!  I’m not above laughing at myself!

“Well then why don’t you just write a book then?  Make some money on it!” invariably comes the next comments.  Once upon a time I thought that was what I wanted.  These days, I’ve realized that it’s not what I’m all about.  I don’t need praise and money.  My life is but a moment in time, and if people want to borrow my words or ideas, encouragement, photos or paintings, then I am happy, for that tells me that I have contributed to their lives in some way.  I do not need to control how others receive or respond--that is as individual an experience as the differences between each snowflake.  That falls in God’s realm, not mine.

My calling is to live transparently, honestly, with integrity -- openly.  

“What about safety?  The internet is a dangerous place, you know!!”  I laugh and nod...yes, it can be, but being transparent and honest and open doesn’t mean carelessly.  No where will you find my address or email (nor those of any of my family/friends), and I use a PO Box anyway.  So, my young friends, blog if you choose, but blog safely!!.....and of course, take a self-defense class!!

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

No matter that I go to the Farmer’s Market week after week, I am always struck by the beauty of food from the earth.  Here again nature presents to us it’s overwhelming gifts.  It could have just been food to nourish our bodies; that would have sufficed.  Instead, food comes to us like gleaming riches of an uncovered buried treasure-- in rich colors, textures, shapes and design.  Each brings its own stirring scent of the earth, sky and water with a top note of beet, broccoli or bean.  Food to nourish our senses.  Beauty and wonder to nourish our souls.  What need have we for gold, makeup or costly perfume when our world is adorned in the likes of this?

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.

Hendry's Beach, Santa Barbara, CA

Sometimes we Santa Barbarans get caught up in the bustle of a workday or simply the familiarity of our city that we forget to stop and notice the undeniable beauty that surrounds us everyday.  Needing to “get away,” I journey off to new and picturesque parts of our country and forget that I am already living in one of the most beautiful, picturesque places in the world.  I am reminded of that during my travels when people ask me where I’m from.  They emit a wistful sigh and look to the sky dreamingly, saying how I am soooo lucky to live here--that it’s one of the places they want to visit before they die.

Practically a native now, and confidentally able to label myself a "local" at last, having lived here 35 years, I’ve seen it grow and change over the years.  I’ve been here long enough to be aware of the life of one stately old Montecito mansion that once was a women’s dormitory since the 40’s-50’s (of the college I later attended) to a hippie commune in the 60’s & 70’s (which I visited with my folks then), back to a family residence in the 80’s & 90’s. 

I’ve watched the coastline erode and change with the storms throughout the years, witnessed the oil spills marring each decade, followed by the expected march down State Street protesting offshore drilling, and the cleanup efforts that were never enough.  You can't truly call yourself a local (even WITH 35 years) if you don't have a little tar on the soles of your feet at least once a week.

Mom and Pop shops lined State Street, and I remember when any shopping you had to do, from hardware to clothing to a haircut, had to be done before 6 p.m. because the entire city rolled up its sidewalks at that hour, even in the Summers.  Sundays nothing was open at all but for a few restaurants.  There was no Costco, Kmart, Best Buy, Home Depot or anything remotely resembling a box store. We would sit cross-legged on the floor and drink new varieties of tea at the historic Tea House, read books with our neighbors around the firepit in Earthling Bookstore, and we college students would have a midnight-study break cinnamon roll at Frimples, where the huge fig tree grew up through the middle of the restaurant.  No reservations were needed at El Capitan and no parking lots charged a fee.  I worked at Garfield, Lincoln & Wilson Schools, all three closing when the population of school age children dropped so low.  Then and now, State Street is still the home of the Old Spanish Days Fiesta Parade and the Solstice Parade, and on any corner you’ll have the opportunity to learn more about Greenpeace and saving some endangered animal or habitat.  Flags still hang from the lamposts lining State Street, the variety only having increased over the years.  Artwork, flipflops and music still abound.   The most wonderful part is that I can walk down any street and run into 3 or 4  people I know and stop to chat.  Yes, I can call it my hometown.

I look around me at these daily sights, not but a few blocks from my house.  I am truly lucky to have such natural beauty around me! 

I look around me at these daily sights, not but a few blocks from my house.  I am truly lucky to have such natural beauty around me!  Some views from Hendry’s Beach (Arroyo Burro Beach) today:

The coastline is rich for geologic study, and I’ve often brought my daughter and students down here to study them.

I love this newer mosaic mural at the Watershed Learning Center here.  This is just a tiny portion of it.

These photos are certainly not the best photos, nor taken at optimal lighting and angles. Many other photographers far more adept than I have done better justice to the area, but these are just everyday shots--unplanned, candid, if you will, Santa Barbara without its make-up on for the tourists. It suits me just fine. 

All photos and text used in this blog are copyrighted by Author of this website, unless otherwise indicated, and permission is required to use any image or text.