My “go – to” book of the year. It’s deep and brilliantly written.
SUNDAY IS A DAY OFF
Be safe, take good care of yourselves and those close to you. Have a good weekend. See you Monday.
With more time on my hands and with the sheltering in challenges, sometimes my emotions take on an entirely new dimension. Occasionally I experience a sense that I’m lost in a world completely unfamiliar to me then a “strangeness” washes over me. Usually it’s easy to regain my footing , but not always. When I’m having a “corona moment” its time to dive hard and heavy into gratitude, to find just one thing I’m grateful for. That seems to pop me back into the bright side of reality. Yesterday’s post depicted 17 years worth of gratitude in my life. It’s Ellie. I’ve been blessed to have her near since the moment she took her first breath. She was surrounded by her loving family in her first moments, and that has not, and will not change.
More gratitude. An organized and cleaned up art space is not a good sign. To all my artist friends and to me it means no art is on the easel. So yes, I am grateful, kind of, for this forced time to get busy and mess up my art room.
This image has emerged from a reference photo taken some 30 years ago. It’s been waiting to be painted but simmered on a back burner for two reasons. One, I didn’t want to tackle the detailed challenge it presented. It was a rather difficult piece for me. Secondly, my readers aren’t required to go along with this idea, but I believe that art has a deep intelligence and quantum relationship with the artist. A piece will emerge when its time is ripe. The title I’ve assigned it asks a relevant question, “Locked In or Locked Out? I think it has an answer, and that’s “Yes.”
Over the years I’ve accumulated pounds and pounds of family photos. This week I tackled a small box, that I could barely lift, and came up with a blast from the past…reaching way back to high Jr Hi, and High School days.
A few years later:
Recently I have, once again, kept pretty busy healing from another bout with cancer and now normal pressure encephalitis. Since my beautiful white Chow lives on the other side of the Moon, I needed fur. One of my fondest memories of childhood up through college was life with my best friend Corky. He and my dad were great pals too.
This animal is most highly recommended for folks allergic to cats and/or those who don’t have the energy to feed them and deal with a litter box . Her name is “Me Owe,” because she doesn’t know any other words. She shakes her head, licks her paw, rolls onto her back, purrs and closes her eyes and goes to sleep…when she gets bored. I have videos which are very darling, but they won’t play on my blog site…yet.
Take care and find something to be grateful for every day, no wait. How about each hour in these strange times?
Watch for more paintings and conversation from the East side of the mountains.
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.”
I posted this poem last Fall, but it’s one of my favorites:
She celebrated the sacrament of letting go.
Then orange, yellow and red, Finally she let go of her brown.
Shedding her last leaf she watched its journey to the ground.
She stood in silence wearing the color of emptiness
Her branches wondering how do you give shadow with so much gone.
She stood empty and silent stripped bare leaning against the winter sky.
She began her vigil of trust
And then the sacrament of waiting began.”
Winter is the season I “wait” for each year, anticipating the peace, surprise, and absolute beauty of snow all around, on the ground, in the trees, flakes falling through the cold skies. Thanksgiving in the past marked the first day of skiing on the mountain. It still does for the younger part of my family, but now, a bit older and a whole lot more cautious, I’m blessed with “slow beauty” – or cross country skiing. Isabella and I venture out daily, she wearing bear feet and I my skis, to feel the blessing of all that is in and all around. I’m thankful for the quiet of winter and “trust” that the snows are here to stay. A fire in the wood stove, holiday lights inside and out, a blanket and a good book to end the day is what I have? (Just read “Lab Girl” – so good and funny – and now “Boys in the Boat” – well written.) Thank you all for being but, yet, one more blessing that I can give thanks for.
Wishing everyone a Thanksgiving filled with love, kindness, wellbeing, and warmth – the warmth part is for those who prefer temperatures that would melt snow.