I hope you can join me, along, with many other artists, for a one-day art show at Bend’s Touchmark Lodge. It is located adjacent to the Bend Athletic Club, just below the Century Dr. and the Mt. Washington Dr. roundabout. I look forward to seeing you there.
I will be showing framed work plus many hand painted holiday cards. Originals and prints are available.
When I lived at Skyliner’s often on a Sunday, or any other day of the week, I would head out towards my “personal sanctuary.” No pews out there, no priests in robes speaking a male dominated tongue, or no hugging the stranger next to you . There are good things about church, but it’s nice, for me, to have an alternative – like The Church of the Beaver Pond.
Through the Aspen grove listening to the little heart-shaped leaves making music in the wind, then on to the little pond where creation, life and death, spoke truth and comfort.
The shapes, colors, and fragrances of Fall are a promise. Fall promises change, a u-turn out of summer and a colorful opportunity to contemplate the truth that nothing stays the same. Winter is on its way and we adapt. We re-style our clothing shedding tee shirts and searching out warmer coats. We revise ourselves with the seasons, hopefully with grace, and Look, there on the stove we find warm soups and maybe a friend for lunch. Humm, that reminds me, my artist group is coming tomorrow, and I have a chicken vegetable, coconut milk soup I have to get started. So, I remind myself, “it’s” all there and we’re part of it, endowed with the ability to hope, and love, and surround ourselves in an atmosphere of the best we can be in any moment. I just watched “Martian Child” twice. The child starring in that movie…he’s just enough to make you “Fall in love.”
Another track star in the family. Jade is in middle school, and a devout athlete. She’s an “A” student, skies, loves water sports, is an outstanding young visual artist, plays piano and violin, and was an up and coming gymnast. Recently multiple joint injuries forced her to discontinue her training. That was a sad transition for Jade. She loved that sport and trained at the gym at least three to four long afternoons and evenings a week. It’s nice that she has more free time to be with family and friends, or not. Her schedule, like most kids her age, is packed to the gills with activities.
Jade, her sister, and other neighborhood kids used to run back and forth past my front window on their travels between each other’s houses. Jade was so little but could run like the wind. They all wore flip flops, the road was a dirt lane, and Jade was usually out in front of the pack – her little legs going like a windmill. (I was often on “grandma alert” waiting for one of them to crash. Never happened…flip flops and all.) You know what they say about early childhood experience! She’s got some fast memory stored in her DNA. GO JADE.
Jade was born beautiful, both inside and out. She is sweet, fun, so funny – and eternally impossible to beat at any board game.
There’s a chill in the air. It’s been cool for the last few days, the wind has picked up, but it seems on schedule. Today is the August full moon. According to some Native American tribal people, this moon cycle is called the Sturgeon Moon or the Corn Moon. Fishermen and fisherwomen are pulling in their catch for winter, and the last of the corn is being brought to harvest.
Most who live in the western world no longer live and learn by the seasons. Lately I’ve been contemplating the question; what would our lives look like if early settlers who arrived on the shores of this contenent had adopted the ways of the First Peoples, those who lived here for centuries before us. Those who respected the land and learned from it and kept it alive and healthy. I wonder if the current devastation to our Earth we are now living with would have been avoided? Would bank notes and credit cards prevail, or might some form of predominate exchange based on altruistic concern be the case? Likely there would have been fighting, some disease, some starvation, and something new we can’t imagine, but how would it have been different?
Out of a blast of thunder my Iris took wings. In Central Oregon this time of year hot dry days can create violent storms such as the small, isolated blast that shook me awake from an afternoon snooze. A wave of boldness seemed to overcome me, and knowing this painting was no “show stopper” I relaxed, had fun, put some paint down and am happy with the outcome. (Still no show stopper.)
Isabella is 11 years old today. She came to us at eight weeks old, a wound up ball of fur making it impossible photograph her. At eight weeks she snored like a Mac truck, and that hasn’t changed – if I had a mic you could hear her now. She was recently diagnosed with Cushing’s Disease, so with meds and continued love she has a few more miles to go. Happy Birthday Isabella. You’re a hit on the trail and are loved by many.
The yard seems that it’s in its Yellow Phase. Here, only the end of July, and Fall colors are in full array. The yellows are pure, full and vibrant, especially in the slanted light of morning.
It is the heart that recognizes we are all unique expressions of the Love that is the essence of Life, and it is the heart that will wake us up to the truth that we are all in this together, floating on a tiny, blue-green jewel of a planet that is dancing through vast oceans of space. Mary O’Malley, “What’s in the Way is the Way.” (72)
May 28th, this was so exciting. The Oriental Poppies began opening their gonadal like pods and presenting cup shaped, wrinkled-paper, transparent red petals. As I watched the unfolding of this stunning creative process, I wondered what it’s like to BE a flower giving birth. I wanted to ask, “Does it hurt? Do you labor to present such beautiful, fresh young beings?” Actually I did ask. The only reply was simply more poppies.
So many surprises as the clematis continued their show. The larger purple blooms reminded my of the little ballet skirts my granddaughters wore for their recitals…and to grandma’s…and to the store…and in the tub…and to bed. Memories are so precious.
May 27th, I’m totally out of control. Opening my blinds early this morning, a display of snow white Clematis had flared forth just outside my dinning room window. It was too beautiful not to paint. Completely exhausted from over-painting I ran, well walked slowly as any well-trained 79 ½ year old will do, out in the yard and shouted out, “Hey Ya’all. Can you hold things up here for a day or so? I’m way behind.” No one listened, and they simply continued to remember who they were and joyfully displayed their beauty in an orderly fashion.