Painting my Garden is a project I began exactly one year ago, May 2018. As I mentioned in an earlier post, my intention was to paint each newly emerging flower as it bloomed in the garden surrounding my small cottage. That was a dream I couldn’t keep up with. The garden got way ahead of me and thanks to my amazing phone camera, I was able to paint from spring and summer references throughout the winter. March 30, 2019 the garden project was done.
April 1, 2019 I hung 12 paintings at St. Charles Redmond. This smaller hospital offers a lovely, friendly, quiet venue. I am one of three artists presently showing there. You are welcome to visit in person, or you can sneak a peek here on my blog site. Some of the paintings have appeared in past postings, but I wanted to show them as one spring-time event.
Peace to all on this Christmas Eve.
This morning’s rain promised a dark, gloomy Christmas, but by this afternoon the temperature dropped and we are blanketed with a layer of pure, bright, beautiful snow. Perfect for Christmas.
Another year has past and winter in all its beauty and quiet is upon us. Today marks the return of the sun and, paradoxically, the beginning of winter when dark days and long nights prevail. Every year Mother Nature offers her seasonal gift, a time to look within and find comfort in our own skin. Of course this is a challenge with the joy and craziness of the holidays all mixed up together. Maybe a “both-and” approach is called for and “Quiet Craziness” will work just fine. What do you think?
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.
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.”
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
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.)
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.