Happy Birthday Terry and Terry ll

November 12th, the birthdays of my son Terance Olaf Skjersaa ll and his dad Terance Olaf Skjersaa, was celebrated at Anthony’s.  Ten Skjersaa’s were around the table celebrating this grand and fun day. Wishing both Terrys a great year to come.

Terry Skjersaa ll
Happy Birthday
Terry Skjersaa, Judy Skjersaa, and Terry Skjersaa ll Birthday at Anthony’s

Terry and Renee – Desert time.
Ellie, 15, almost 16 and excited about driving on her own.                                   

 

Jade, 13, was her fun and funny self.

Pathway to the Church of the Beaver Pond

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

Pathway to 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.

Beaver Pond

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.”

Watercolor on Paper
250.00
The Nature of Fall                                  

Besides the Smoke, Seems Fall is in the Air

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?

 

Sturgeon Moon Under Water

Lady of the Lakes
Pool

Thunder in the Garden

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.)

Wimp
Thunder Iris

 

Clemati

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.

 

Clematis Inner Beauty

More Garden Than You Can Imagine

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.

Early Morning Clematis

White Clematis turned to lavender
They came the purples

May 23rd,  I awakened to a small bird just outside my window.  I believe it’s a Wren, but I don’t think that’s what he calls him self. We who don’t have wings need names for every thing under the sun, but anyway it was a sweet way to start the day. Small birds don’t survive long in the mountains, so this is yet another perk-me-up to ease my Skyliner home sickness.

First of the Garden Friends

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 27th, the rhododendrons that surround the edges of my house, front and back, began to announce themselves.  Their colors were lovely, deep magenta, dark pink, light pink, and lavender, oh I can’t forget the bright orange. The orange blooms might have been Azalea.  What a learning curve I’m negotiating.  There are literally hundreds of ground plants, bushes, and vines I have no clue as to their needs or wants. My deteriorating condition as a garden painter is evident, as you can see.  Oops. you can’t see.  In fact I’m in such a slump…I lost the painting.  Maybe next year.

Rhododendron

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I find it deeply fascinating to learn that the plant’s colors and their placement, in the wild and in the garden, is vital.  Orange and magenta, for instance, are blooms whose colors are situated across from one another on the color wheel.  According to plant biologists when opposing colors grow close together they attract more bees and other pollinators  and are healthier because they are better pollinated.  This speaks to the intelligence of nature, and to me this is a beautiful “knowing.”

 

 

Art in the Garden Lilacs

May 17th, and then there were lilacs:  two very tall trees of lavender colored blooms, mostly high out of reach.  Not a problem, a long handled rake brought enough down to eye level to cut bouquets for several weeks.

This “painting my garden” idea was becoming a bit much, so I decided to execute a fast, very loose rendition of a bunch of lilacs in a vase.  Not a good idea.  In my previous life, before taking a 5 year hiatus to return to school, I could have made this idea work.  I hesitate to include this image in my garden series, but I’ll allow it to speak to human frailty – like the flaw Navaho’s leave in the weavings of their rugs. Painting my garden is my re-entry project into self-expression and the search for beauty through art.  Step-by-step as the garden grows…may I so grow.

A Bouquet of Lilacs
Watercolor Lilacs

Art in the Garden, May Snow

May 9th,looked like it had snowed again, at least on the cherry and the apple trees…and on Isabella.  No snow, just cherries and apples being themselves.  As for Isabella, her groomer took about 10 years off her life with this new cut, and she, too, is simply being herself.  I’m not going to paint her, but the apple blossoms were irresistible.

Watercolor

 

Not Really Snow?
Isabella lounging in her garden bed…just back from the groomer.

 

Art in the Garden Spring and Summer 2018

OnMarch 4tha light snow covered the ground, the streets were icy, and winter showed no signs of leaving.  After living in the mountains for 18 years at 1000 feet above Bend (4500 feet) I was no stranger to spring snow.  Lots of it.  Up there in a land where, maybe,when spring had passed a few daisies and daffodils survived the summer deer.

But, surprise, all has changed down here in the city.  That which came after the snow had melted around my little cottage was amazing.  In the following posts I attempt to share a bit of summer as it blossoms behind a precious six-foot fence.

Spring Snow in the Garden.

March 30th, Spring Equinox, 2018.  Light was returning in our hemisphere, snow had melted in town, and I was in the back yard rooting around mysterious foliage in my thickly planted garden.  Crunched between a fir hedge and an adjacent monkey tree, appeared my favorite fantasy flower, a Lenten Rose.  Never had I seen one in real time, I’d only seen pictures of this plant, also called a Heliotrope. It was my favorite image that I had painted on Christmas cards – the year I set out to paint each and every card I sent individually. (Out of 100 friends on my list, I made it to 50.  Fun, but too much.)  So, here it was, in person.  It’s not clear why I have such fondness for the Lenten Rose, sometimes referred to as the Christmas Rose.  Maybe it’s the colors, the faded mauves and light greens, the shapes, the way the blooms grow close and back- to-back to one another.  It awakens something deeply spiritual, or complete, or maybe ancient within.

It was at this point I decided to paint my garden, flower-by-flower as each new botanical wonder displayed its unique expression of creation.

Lenten Rose.
The first bloom of Spring

April 28, 2018 on my early morning stroll, the weather still, sunny, and cold I discovered  this tiny little tulip.  It seemed shy nestled up beside a pinecone, maybe for a little comfort.  Small as it was, it sounded a fanfare for its many sisters, brothers, cousins and family members who soon awakened showing random colors, shapes, heights in many locations throughout this half-acre garden.

Painting my garden continues.

Tulips, Tulips, and More..