My “go – to” book of the year. It’s deep and brilliantly written.
You are welcome to stop by the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, the beautiful newer building located at the bottom of Skyliner’s Rd. off Skyline Ranch Rd. The artist’s reception was on June 2nd, but the show will be available for viewing until August 4th. This is a juried show, and there are some very amazing pieces submitted by local artists. It is All About Birds, their habitats, nests, feathers portrayed in fabric, wood, sculptures, and paintings. Look for mine entitled, “Waiting.”
Beginning June 28th I will have two new paintings hanging at the Redmond Hospital in the halls just off the main entrance. In the works are large poppies, like the ones out my back door and all throughout my yard. Here’s a peek at the reference photos I took. By the way, the deer don’t eat poppies. Isn’t nature the best?
As a side note, painting has been so helpful in my most recent cancer recovery. I’m doing better each day. Thanks for the support. It means so much.
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?
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.)
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.
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.
It’s a cozy day in Bend, new snow, a warm house, a big white dog and hope for All.
Go in peace
Go in kindness
Go in love
Go in faith
Leave the day
The day behind us
Day is done
Go in grace
Let us go into the dark
Not alone, not afraid
Let us hope, by some good measure
Safely of arrive at home.
By Sam Baker
Yesterday Isabella and I explored a different walking trail. We drove just west of Bend up Century Drive, turned off on the road to Benham Falls and ended up at Slough Camp. From Slough Camp’s parking lot we headed on foot towards Benham Falls, about 2.5 miles. I hadn’t been up in this area for ages. It brought back a fun/funny memory. In The 60’s when I was attending COCC my folks sent me $70. a month for rent, food, gas, etc. One memorable month I out-spent the month by two weeks and had only a dime to last until next payday. No problem, well not really. For food I, every day, fished the Deschutes and lived on the catch of the day – trout. I ate fried trout, baked trout, boiled trout, and fried trout again. The dime I had bought me two lemons from the market on Franklin St. just two blocks from my apartment. Bend was so compact and easy back then. Anyway, Slough Camp was one of my fishing spots and it felt good to be back, although I’m happy to hike and not fish.
Isabella found a place where she could get to the river for a drink without tromping through brush and river grasses. She took off over a little embankment that looked almost straight down to me. I questioned her ability to get herself out of that hole, but she did it, eventually. I let her rest a bit, me too, before we carried on. It was such a beautiful, quiet Fall day, and I’m grateful for every minute of it.
If you’ve ever been to Fort Rock in the Central Oregon Desert, you’ll remember that it is formed of jagged lava rock that has taken the shape of a crescent. It’s dry and desolate, to me. So now, I seem to be existing in a near replica which I have named Fort Snow. (Not dry but maybe a little desolate.) The photos attached will tell you the story of the enormous snow load I am dealing with and some of the havoc it has raised. The inside has some significant damage caused by snow melt that crept silently down beams, under flooring, and into the main crawl space under the kitchen . It’s not the end of the world, but just one more thing to deal with as I pack to move and try to find a place to live. What a time for Bend to come up with an unprecedented snow dump.
Here’s the story behind my pictorial essay: lots of snow, piles so high I don’t have to think about anyone looking in my windows – or me looking out, tractor heading down towards my front door, Fort Snow forming, dogs going crazy with fun, and at last a fond farewell to my 1990 Subaru Legacy. She’s off to become a KLCC radio program.
By the way, it’s my 78th birthday, and I so appreciate the many, many birthday wishes that showed up on m Facebook page this morning. I really needed that kind of support today, and it helped me to remember who we all are – just a bunch of good friends and family who know how to reach out to one another.