PACE: (pas) n. a step; rate of movement. -ing

2012-02-08T08:28:00.000-08:00

I never tire of watching the elephant seals. We spent more time today. I thought I had already taken all the photos I would ever need. But, then there was that one looking right at me and another scratching with a fin that turns into a hand with fingernails and who could ever resist those little baby faces?

I've learned how to use Flicker and have posted the photos there. There are 17. I hope it isn't too much for you to check out yet another site:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/74573690@N08/

Cloudy day

2012-02-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

I never get tired of watching.

2012-02-04T16:19:00.000-08:00

We saw the sign announcing the Annual Library Book Sale!!!! Hooray!!! We could hardly wait for Friday. It was a bonus day as it is also the same day and time and next door to the weekly Farmer's Market!

We were early and stood in line waiting for the magic moment when the doors opened. You buy books by the inch: $1.50/inch. I think within our group we bought probably 18-20 inches of books. We went our separate ways each coming the tables for treasures. We met outside and showed off our finds to each and then on to home to make a drink or cuppa and pour over our lovely used books.

My favorite treasure is "Flowering Plants: The Santa Monica Mountains, Coastal & Chaparral Regions of Southern California." I had said I wanted to find a plant book for this area and voila! there it was waiting for me. Next, best buy: "The Practical Geologist," so that I don't have to carry my college geology textbook everywhere with me. A book by gardener, Allen Lacy, "Home Ground: A Gardener's Miscellany." A great 50s book entitled, "Fireside Book of Favorite American Songs." And, then music for a guitar that is over my head, but interesting.

Woo-hoo! Fun, fun, fun!

P.S.

I would take a photo of my new wonderful books, but my camera batteries died and there are none to be found in Cambria. So, for now, no more photos.

2012-02-03T11:13:00.000-08:00

My friend sent me a link to this article:
Jake Reilly's 'Amish Project': 90 Days Without a Cell Phone, Email and Social Media - Yahoo! News

Jake Reilly's 'Amish Project:' 90 Days Without a Cell Phone, Email and Social

You can google the title to read it, also. It is about a young guy who gave up all social electronic gadgets and accounts. What an interesting article. The electronic world is deceptively addicting. Before you know it you've spent hours on the internet going from one thing to another. Like Jake said you can get lost for hours in the "YouTube" black hole. I would love a teacher in a high school to use his idea and do a modified lesson on it with students. I don't think it's necessary to give it up all. But, unless you know how much you're missing, you can't break the addiction. As an adult that didn't grow up with all of this, I find myself attracted to it all. However, I recently read about artists who say they get up early in the morning and spend 2 to 3 hours on the computer answering emails, blogging, tweeting, etc., and then work in the studio. I think, "Good heavens, what are they doing all that time?" But, when I am really honest about it, I spend that much time on the computer reading, writing, looking things up. I can see how a person could get sucked in. Kind of like when I used to watch soap operas in the afternoons way back when. I got sucked in for a couple years and then I got bored with the fact that nothing ever happened, really. In my defense, there weren't books on tape then, which would have been a much better thing to listen to. Of course, at the time I lived in the country and couldn't get an radio, so I ended up listening to albums, real plastic albums that you could stack 3-5 at a time on a stereo. Boy! does that date me!

As with so much in life, the real lesson is awareness and moderation. Balancing life is the key, I think, to happiness.

2012-02-01T18:19:00.000-08:00

I took an art class on-line. I used Carla Sonheim's techniques to make imaginary animals. I was pretty happy with my endeavors.

2012-02-01T18:16:00.000-08:00

The big guys with orange beaks are Black Oystercatchers; the little guys are Surf Scoters.

Harbor seals, one of them is sure posing!

Hanging with your friends, including Cormorants.

We found a secluded beach/bluffs. The best things about it dogs have to be leashed but because there is no one within miles, Annie gets to run and I watched the seals and they watched me. We've been back there 3 times since we found it and plan for more until we leave.

2012-01-28T17:08:00.001-08:00

The sign on the door said they had moved to Main Street. So, I drove down Main Street up and down until I saw the little sign that said, "Grow Succulents behind Garden Gate."

I walked through Garden Gate and reminded myself to return with more time. Then, I stepped outside to the sound of many fountains. I saw the Succulents sign and headed for it.

Last year I bought a purple-lavender cup from him and some succulents. A few survived, but my favorite one died and the cup got broken. At the time that I bought the cup, I also looked at some green cups with a tree on the side of them. They reminded me of Cambria, but I went for the blue one as predicted by most of the anecdotal marketing research (potterers are too poor to have real research done). Maybe that's why it broke. But, since then I had dreamed of his green cups with the tree on the side.

I made my choices: 2 mugs (one for my potter sister), and two really cool succulents (one the will replace one that I killed). When I walked up to pay for them, I mentioned that I had purchased a cup last year and was back for more. Then, I mentioned that both my sister and I were potterers: she was a thrower and I was a hand-builder. He brightened at that and said that before I left I needed to see his new pots for succulents handbuilt.

With my purchases wrapped up and packed into a box, he lead me outside to a whole bunch of boxes. He opened one and pulled out pots that he had made and wrapped in newspaper. The were rough and rustic. He had rolled out slabs of clay and then laid them on other bowls, decorated them with textures and then fired them to dark, mat browns and blacks. In my mind I could see them brimming with a bunch of the smooth gray-green succulents. Perfect!

But, more than perfect was the conversation with another potter. A conversation that outsiders wouldn't understand: I told of a workshop I attended given by a woman who had done a fellowship with Kohler to learn slip-casting; he told me his new handbuilts pots were along the line of the Jamon type pottery. We understood each other. Handbuilt, thrown, slip-cast, Jamon....words of the trade. We both understand clay under our nails, in our hair and all over our clothes. We understand having a limited palette and the whims of the kiln gods. I love potters.

2012-01-25T21:04:00.001-08:00

Redwoods just make you look up!

Banana slug! How about those to garden with?!

A need to get exercise for the dogs and a less strenuous day for the humans turned into a magical hike. We pulled at the trailhead and looked up, up, up at switchbacks. Ugh! Not what the humans were hoping for. We agreed to start it and turn back after a view of the ocean. Up and up and up and up and up we went criss-crossing the hillside side that plunged down to the ocean below. Then, we crossed a ridge and turned a corner and found ourselves in shade and dampness and mushrooms and ferns. And, then, we walked through an ancient stand of redwood trees, through sycamores, old oaks, birch and even a small stand of eucalyptus. Dogs and humans entranced and we headed down, down to an overlook where we rested watching a pod of 10-12 whales slipping through the waves of the ocean. One, two, three......four, five, six......seven, eight, nine..... One, two, three....four, five..... Sometimes just showing their backs, more often spurting spouts that hung in the air. We won't ruin the ideallic picture spending too much time on the dog that went down the cliff sniffing, going way too far from her humans. And, the ticks that we pulled off Lee and Linda, and the dozen-plus pulled off Annie later at home.

Remember when your Mother told you not roughhouse? This is what happens when Annie and I roughhoused. It's looking even prettier 24 hours later.

2012-01-24T16:43:00.000-08:00

The other day I was whining because my feet hurt, my shoulders hurt, there was a head-wind and I was tired. The 20 mile bike ride just seemed too hard. Fortunately, another day dawned and today it was a wonderful ride. It was arduous as we rode to the top of San Simeon Creek Road; top being the key word in that statement. Top meaning up and up and up. But, it was beautiful day and I had new bike shoes that meant no numb toes or sore arches or aching heels.

We stopped at the beach and there was a dead elephant seal with a convergence of vultures eating on it. Yes, kind of gross. But, I learned as I was walking on a trail one day with a friend, I saw a pile of feathers and said, "Uh-oh, somebody had a bad day." My friend, a Master Naturalist, said, "Yes, but someone also had a good day." Perspective.

What I found interesting was the vultures seemed pretty mannerly as more vultures joined in the meal. There wasn't any fighting or arguing. A new vulture would fly in, stand for a moment to the side and move slowly to the carcass. The other vultures would finish eating or move over and make room. Maybe it was because there was so much there. But, I just liked how quiet and dignified they acted.

Lee did say that just by nature of who they are, they are patient. :)

Open Mic

2012-01-24T08:36:00.001-08:00

We could hear the music as we got nearer the dor of Cafe Lilly's. Thayes had found a notice that there was to be an Open Mic tonight. I smiled big when we walked through the door. Cafe Lilly's is very small and it was full of people. But, most of all it was full of guitars! I loved it!!! A few young ones, but mainly old guys and gals, my age-ish, Lee's age-ish. Singing their favorite songs or songs they had written, strumming their guitars like the instruments were their old friends, which they were. Guitars, fiddle, Bass guitars, mandolin, even an accordian (he played "Poisoning Pidgeons in the Park", don't ask :). Inspiring! I was so happy to be there and as we left my mind was filled with the possibilities of where my flute and my guitar and I can go.

So, Boise be ready for Open Mic Parties at the Waltons beginning in March. Complete with a coffee, tea or wine bar.

Finally, otters showed their cute faces!

2012-01-22T17:52:00.000-08:00

If everybody had an ocean....Surfin' USA!

Life is good!

And, just a couple extra lucky shots.....

2012-01-18T18:32:00.000-08:00

Oops! Forgot the whales, complete with flukes (the tail). And, today, Harbor Seals....

2012-01-18T09:34:00.000-08:00

My favorite bike ride: up Hwy 1 along the ocean to visit our old friends the elephant seals. So, we have quite an impressive critter count: kelp otters (kelp pods that look like the otters that swim among them, but are really just kelp pods), red-shouldered hawks, vultures by the dozens, great white egrets hunting for mice, coyote(s) depending on your vantage point, hooded mergansers, some kind of heron...not blue (haven't looked it up yet), zebra, elephant seals. Wait, did I say zebra?! Yes, thanks to Billy Randy Hearst (you know, the guy who built the big Hearst place on top of the mountain), there are zebra!

On the beach...

2012-01-17T08:24:00.000-08:00

We are camped at Leo Carillo State Campground on the California coast just north of Malibu. So, close to millions of people and, yet, so very far away. It is a pretty campground, almost empty. I am left alone in camp with my two favorite girlfriends, Annie and Maddie. We took a hike straight up a hill on deer paths that gave all three of us a workout and after a rest headed out the other direction, west, to the ocean. We walked under a bridge that is painted with ocean and indian scenes. A community project headed up by a local artist. There is a little poem painted on the bridge that is so sweet:
The little bridge between the mountains and the sea
Where the kelp plant meets the sycamore tree.

The three of us trek on under bridge, over the bluff to the "dog" beach. I take movies of the waves crashing for my friends at home, while my two friends wait. The ocean, on leash, is not interesting. The forest, even on leash is interesting. But, the ocean is just a bunch of water you can't drink, gray colors you don't enjoy and no squirrels or p-mails to sniff. But, these two friends are so patient as they wait for me. I promise them lots of sniffing on the way back to camp.

Cafe Lilly's

2012-01-17T08:16:00.001-08:00

We could hear the music as we got nearer the door of Cafe Lilly's. Thayes had found a notice that there was to be an Open Mic tonight. I smiled big when we walked through the door. Cafe Lilly's is very small and it was full of people. But, most of all it was full of guitars! I loved it!!! A few young ones, but mainly old guys and gals, my age-ish, Lee's age-ish. Singing their favorite songs or songs they had written, strumming their guitars like the instruments were their old friends, which they were. Guitars, fiddle, Bass guitars, mandolin, even an accordian (he played "Poisoning Pidgeons in the Park", don't ask :). Inspiring! I was so happy to be there and as we left my mind was filled with the possibilities of where my flute and my guitar and I can go.

So, Boise be ready for Open Mic Parties at the Waltons beginning in March. Complete with a coffee, tea or wine bar.

Horrors! An Electronic Christmas Card!!!

2011-12-31T08:32:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, I didn't think it would ever happen, either. But, I have run out of time and decided to send this electronically. I promise next year I will send real cards.

Twas two days before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except me, as quiet as a mouse.
It was still dark, I was sipping hot tea under a blanket all snug
Thinking of all I had done and feeling quite smug.
When all of a sudden panic struck my heart cold!
I forgot to send Christmas cards after all I have sold.
I jumped from the couch threw off the throw
And raced to the bedroom to let Lee know
To sound an alarm, wake up the dog and pull on Lee’s arm
“We have a big problem! Wake up, wake up!” I said.
Annie, the dog, jumped off the bed
Lee stumbled to the bathroom scratching his head.
I set up the camera and focused on Lee,
Stuck a guitar in his hand and had Annie sit beside me.
The shutter, it clicked, I yelled, “Smile you two!
“Annie, don’t look down at my shoe!”
So when you receive this and see us sitting so composed,so serene
Please know we do send sincere greetings to all,
But, next year I promise I’ll be ready with a more timely scheme.

Paperdolls come to life!

2011-12-17T11:43:00.000-08:00

Mary Kate and Annie Marie

So, even though it is December and I still had cards to print and ship. And, even though we had to practice for the Christmas Concert and I wanted to make lots of food and lots of other gifts, I still wanted to make these paperdolls. I guess, if I am honest, I wanted to make them for me even more than Miss Sophia, my most special niece. But, I do hope she'll enjoy them. I included stickers of kitties and tattoos of teddy bears to sweeten the deal. And, I wrote a little story to go with their play clothes, too. Here are the play clothes and following is the little story.


Annie Marie and Mary Kate's Play Clothes

Here is the story: Best Friends Always Share

Once upon a time there were two little girls who were best friends. Annie Marie had dark hair and Mary Kate had light hair. They played together everyday.

One day something very exciting happened. The mailman delivered a package that had both their names on it. It was from their Great-Aunt Cindi.

Great-Aunt Cindi wasn’t really their aunt. She was a close friend of their families. Great-Aunt Cindi said, “Everyone should have a Great-Aunt Cindi to send them special gifts and remind them what is important in life. I will be your Great-Aunt Cindi.”
The package wasn’t very heavy but it was loaded with fun! There were two little books of stickers. One book was filled stickers of cats. Annie Marie took it because she loved kitties. Mary Kate took the other book for it was filled with her favorite, teddy bears. And, best of all there were four tattoos that stayed on even after you took a bath. There was also a note from Great-Aunt Cindi that said, “Now, you girls share.”

It was time for Mary Kate to go. Her Mommy wanted her to go to the store with her. So, Mary Kate took her sticker book and the two tattoos with her.

The girls promised that tomorrow they would play with their stickers and put on their tattoos.

The next morning Mary Kate woke up excited to go over to Annie Marie’s house. She quickly ate her breakfast and brushed her teeth. Then, she looked for her stickers and tattoos.

She looked near the front door, but they weren’t there. She looked on her dresser and they weren’t there, either. She even checked under her bed, but they were not to be found.

She ran to her mother with her bottom lip trembling, “Mommy, I can’t find my new stickers or my tattoos? Have you seen them?”

Mommy said, “No, Mary Kate, I haven’t seen your stickers or tattoos. Did you look in your bedroom?”

“Yes, Mommy. I looked near the front door and on my dresser and even under my bed. But, I can’t find them.”

Mary Kate and Mommy looked all over the house together because sometimes four eyes were better than two eyes. But, they could not find the stickers or tattoos.
Mary Kate began to cry, “Oh, Mommy, Annie Marie and I were going to play with our stickers and tattoos this morning. What will I do?”

Mommy said, “Well, Mary Kate, they have to be here somewhere. I am sure they will turn up. Let’s walk to Annie Marie’s house and see if maybe you left them there.”

At Annie Marie’s house Mary Kate and her Mommy and Annie Marie and her Mommy looked through the whole house, but Mary Kate’s stickers and tattoos were nowhere to be found.

Mary Kate began to cry. Annie Marie put her arm around her friend and said, “Mary Kate, you are my best friend. Great-Aunt Cindi said we were to share. I have enough stickers and tattoos. You can share mine.”

Soon, the two girls were laughing and having lots of fun playing with Annie Marie’s stickers and each had a tattoo on the back of her hand.

Later in the morning there was a knock on the door. The girls ran to the door to see Mary Kate’s Mommy. Mary Kate said, excitedly, “Mommy, guess what? Annie Marie shared her stickers with me. And, look, Mommy, she shared her tattoos with me, too!” Mary Kate showed her mother the tattoo on the back of her hand.

Mommy smiled a big smile and said, “Mary Kate, guess what I found?”

Mary Kate’s Mommy showed Mary Kate and Annie Marie the lost stickers and tattoos. The girls squealed with delight!

“They were right where you left them in the car on the back seat,” said Mommy.

Mary Kate gave her Mommy a big hug to thank her for finding her stickers and tattoos. Then, she gave her friend, Annie Marie, a big hug, too, and said, “I had so much fun playing with your stickers and tattoos today. Thank you for sharing your stickers and tattoos with me. Now, I will share mine with you.”

And, so the little girls spent their afternoon playing with even more stickers and tattoos and sharing just like Great-Aunt Cindi had asked.

A Very Happy Ending!

Where do ideas come from?!

2011-12-04T07:59:00.000-08:00

I hate to tell people about all the ideas that float through my head because 1), there are way too many and you would think my brain was really loony, and 2), I don't even try to do half of them, and 3) if I decide to try one and it is a dismal failure, which happens more than I tell anyone, I don't want to 'fess up to it.

But, I had this idea and I'm going to let you in on it and I'll even let you in on whether it comes together or not. First, you all know I have a wonderful little Great-Niece who is now two-years-old. Her being born gave birth to "The Baby From the Land of Before You Were Born." Well, I was looking at a catalog and saw paperdolls for sale. The idea incubated in my mind for a few days and one night when I couldn't sleep, I came up with two paperdolls and a story that went with them. Annie Marie and Mary Kate are two little girls who get stickers and temporary tattoos from, who else, Great Aunt Cindi.

Of course, this idea came right before Thanksgiving, a wonderful surprise visit from dear friends, a cold that lasted a week and the busiest week of my card season. So, I thought, there was no way this will ever happen.

But, the other night I was watching tv with Lee (now, he has the cold) and I started to sketch a bit and two little girls showed up. I looked at them and thought...ugly little things. Funny hands, strange faces...give it up, girl. But, after letting them "cook" overnight, the next morning I looked at them and thought, Hey! not bad. They're kind of cute in their own sweet way.

So, here's my start. Don't know if I'll get them done. But, at least my idea is on paper.

Annie Marie and Mary Kate

American Liquid Waste Magazine

2011-12-01T10:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.americanliquidwaste.com/magazine/2011/december-2011/

(Click on "Magazine" and then "2011" and "December 2011 for the actual magazine article. It is page 28.)

Never heard of this magazine!? Here's your chance to expand your horizons. Every industry has a trade magazines and the world of porta-pottys and septic tanks do, too. I know you've all laughed at our Christmas cards made especially for this industry. Well, American Liquid Waste Magazine found our website and called to ask for an interview. At first, I wondered if it was a joke. But, I looked at their website and when I spoke with their writer, Daurelle Golden Harris, I discovered it was for real.

I've never been interviewed before, but if it means that you get to talk about yourself with a very nice person then I wouldn't mind doing it again. Daurelle was so personable and fun. We both work out of our homes and admitted to each other that we do business over the internet and on the phone in our pj's; although, we each 'fessed up to putting on "street" clothes for the interview.

The photograph of me was taken by my good friend, Jim Gilmore. Megan, the editor, even kindly corrected the word "marshmallows" in the picture of our "marshmallow" card. Marshmallows or marshmellows, the article is fun to read. Thanks so much for the professionalism and friendliness of Megan and Daurelle of American Liquid Waste Magazine. It was a pleasure to share our story with them.

Thanksgiving Retrospective

2011-11-30T18:35:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is over. I just finished putting away the last of the harvest decorations, just in time to get out the Christmas stuff. There is no more turkey or dressing or mashed potatoes. All our furniture is back in place. This evening I sit with my glass of wine in the quiet, while my mind flickers through the photos taken and stored in my memory.

Lee cleaning the shipping department so that it will be ready to become the turkey-carving room.
Both of us moving the furniture in or out, all in a military precision, the studio table has to be cleared off, folded and put into the garage so that it can be unfolded and put back up in the dining area for dinner tomorrow. Next the round painted table is moved over to make room for the dining room table to be placed over top of all the art-stuff on the floor of the studio.
Calling my brother-in-law (1-800-BrineMe) for recipe and instructions on our to brine a 17 pound turkey. And, Lee lending his much revered beer-making pot for the brining operation.
Finally, getting down to the last room in the house to be cleaned: the kitchen. Cleaning the oven, washing down the cupboard doors and scrubbing with Clorox the counter tops. Once a year...
But, then, the phone rang and it was my San Diego friend. Her husband's birthday was that day and we were going to call later in the evening to wish him Happy Birthday. I asked what they were doing for his birthday and she said, "Well, he said he wanted to spend Thanksgiving at the Waltons." And, then the doorbell rang. I ran to open the door and there they were with big smiles and hugs all around. In that moment my basket of thanksgivings was overflowing.
One o'clock on the big day and our friends started to arrive for the big event. From that moment until evening the day was filled with delicious food, heartfelt thanks, laughter, tears, poems, music, yoga, and DANCING!!! How could a Thanksgiving get any better!
Only one way...everyone left and we still had our two close friends to share a cup of tea with and make plans for the weekend to come.

So, with all that how could I have only one thing to be thankful for? It was the thanksgiving that I wish I could have said to everyone around the table, but even when I think about it, I begin to cry. Just like I am now as I look at my new canine friend, Annie.

One morning Annie woke up. Maybe she had slept on her people's bed during the night. She probably got up, went outside to potty, came in and had a small breakfast. She may have sensed that something was wrong; so she just stayed close to her people's knees. They all went "bye-bye," but it was subdued "bye-bye." Annie probably sensed her people were upset and it made her feel uneasy. They came to the animal shelter and took her in on her leash. She followed them trusting that they knew where they were going. Maybe it was a nice person who took the leash and lead Annie away. But when the nice person put Annie into a kennel surrounded by other kennels and so many dogs barking their fear and their loneliness, Annie started to worry. After 6 years Annie found herself without a place in this world, without a tribe, without a home.

I don't blame her people. Life happens and we make decisions; I've been there. Fortunately, for Annie, Furry Paws Rescue Squad scooped her up and in a serendipitous way she found us. She has a home, now, with her own people and even sharing their bed. She has a tribe and a family. She is finding her place in the world again.

But, what happened in Annie's life made me realize how precarious life is. Losing a place in the world happens to animals and people everyday, everywhere in the world. I'm thankful to my new friend, Annie, for reminding me just how fortunate I am. I am just so thankful for having a place.

The Decoration Committee

2011-11-26T06:55:00.000-08:00

Once again the Decoration Committee went to work to make incredible centerpieces for our Thanksgiving table. It was heart-warming to know that across Treasure Valley, a Place Card Committee were creating glittery place cards for all the guests. Irons were heating up to iron the tablecloths, the Napkin Ring Committee were gathering for another beautiful creation of napkin rings and ovens and stoves were heating up to make our feast.

2011-11-21T06:47:00.000-08:00

Working, working, working....and very thankful to be doing it.

Lots of ideas floating through my head, but I'm keeping my nose to the grindstone and my notebook nearby to write everything down.

Another "0" Birthday!

2011-10-31T12:28:00.000-07:00

Note: These paintings are representative, only, any chance that they really look like the person is pure magic and comes from the muses that guide me.

When I shook his hand 10 years ago he said to me, "Hi, I'm Allan. I'm Danish!" I knew that must be very important to him. Ten years later he is not only a used-to-be neighbor, good friend, but also as close to me as a brother. Happy Birthday, dear friend!

What the....???!!!!!

2011-10-27T16:38:00.000-07:00

For potters opening the kiln after a glaze firing is just much like Christmas. Well, most of the time. This morning was not one of those openings. This is called "crawling" and there are a lot of reasons why it happens. You can even work to have it happen. However, I have never tried for the look and I certainly didn't expect it when I opened the kiln today. Okay, so there may have been dust on the jars before I dipped them in glaze. And, there may have been a problem when I double-dipped them on a whim this time around. (Why do something that turns out every time? Why not live on the wild side?) And, okay, so maybe I need to remember to put a clay pack with cones in every firing so I know how hot the kiln is firing to each time. (I have been warned over and over not to trust the computer.)

This is why I say that clay has some angst to it. It is a remarkable medium to work with. It is like magic when you make something and it turns out even better than you imagined. But, there are moments that are a big more like black magic.

I will quit complaining, place these behind the pretty ones and put them outside as garden decor next spring. I will pour and glaze again. But, first I will pour a glass of wine and propiate the clay gods.

To be bored or not...

2011-10-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

I had a conversation with the checkout clerk at our grocery store. She wondered what I was going to do with 6 pounds of sweet red peppers. I told her I was making and freezing (I had already canned a batch) a delicious Roasted Sweet Red Pepper Sauce. She said that she had another job and they chopped up red peppers and froze them all the time. I asked her what her other job was and she said she managed a school lunch program. I asked if that was Monday through Friday and she said that it was. Then, I asked her how much she worked at the grocery store. She smiled and said, "More than I should." Then, she said, "The only thing I really miss is what's on tv and since there is so little on tv to watch these days, I'm not missing much there." And, I said something about at least she was making money. She said that she kept her job there because the insurance was so good. She only paid $40/person a month for her husband and herself. As I walked out the door I pondered what life would be like if I had nothing else to do but work. If working was the entertainment I had. We gave up watching a lot of tv many years ago. But, I used that time making art, making music, reading, just sitting and talking or getting together with friends for dinner.

What should I do first?

I came home and made myself a cuppa. I walked into my studio that is busy right now with 3-4 projects in different stages of being done. I looked at the pile of books and magazines and thought about all I wanted to read and I thought of a similar stack in the bedroom by my side of the bed. I turned around and looked at the canning mess I have in the dining area, which included 41 lbs. of freshly picked green tomatoes that need to be made into something we can eat this winter. I walked through the little den area off our living room that is now filled with guitars, flutes, a sax, bongo drums. And, now, there is a new canine friend who needs attention and exercise.

Maybe this woman, who is my age, has a passion she didn't mention. Maybe she has girlfriends she giggles with and a husband she cuddles with and children and grandchildren she laughs with. But, just this conversation made me think of everything that fills my life and how blessed I feel that I have the stacks of books, the piles of projects, the pounds of tomatoes, the seldom bored husband and this very precious new dog.

Annie

2011-10-18T10:55:00.000-07:00

Things work out the way they are supposed to. Molly died and we were so sad. About the same time, our friend, Cheri, was fostering a dog named, Annie. Her owners had to give her up, probably because of the economy, but who knows there a lot of things that could have happened. It must have been tramatic for everyone involved. One clue is that whoever raised Annie loved on her, she is very cuddly. A second clue is that since she is very comfortable on my bed (althought she has accepted the compromise of waiting until morning to get on the bed) I know who ever had her for most her life let her sleep on their bed. I can't imagine anything more difficult than having to walk away from such a good friend. But, at the time she looked so much like Molly it almost broke my heart. We just weren't ready. She was lucky to find a family, so on we all went on our different paths. Then, her new owner discovered she was allergic to her and Annie was returned to Cheri. Because Cheri has her own dog and was fostering a Great Dane, too, Annie went to our friend, Cory, who is also a volunteer foster Mom. And, then we had dinner with Cory and we met Annie. The rest is our new history together.

Molly taught me so much about having a dog. She taught me what dogs liked and what they didn't. She taught me I could talk to my dog and my dog would understand. She taught me that having a dog meant there was always one person in the world who would love me no matter how irritating I could be. So far, she was right about everything.

So, now the three of us are getting to know each other. We're working out how we're going to live together. She can't sleep on our bed all night and we have to get used to having her on leash on the left side and not the right.

So far my most favorite thing of all is having her run with me. Running has taken on a whole new prospective. More on that to come! Big Smiles!

Only a good friend would sleep on the hard floor, scrunched up to a printer, waiting for you to do something fun!

Let it go!

2011-10-13T08:45:00.000-07:00

A lot of what an artist does is trial and error or in fancier terms, research and development. Sometimes you have to let go of an idea when it just won't work. Flat, round, hollow ornaments that I have been working on are consistently problematic.

I can now get the mold to work and the bisque firing is good, except when there is warping.

Remember this little piece of modern art.

Firing with glaze is still a problem. You can't have them touch anything if they are glazed all over. I tried hanging them from wires that were held up with kiln furniture. They were too heavy and the wire sagged in the middle they all fell together and I got this.

So, I tried to fire them standing up on a wire that was stuck into a fire block. Okay, but sometimes the wires stick to the inside and I break the ornament getting it out.

Lollipop firing: ornaments on wires.

So, I laid them down and only glazed one side. Okay, but it looks unfinished and it just doesn't dazzle me. (Hm-m-m, now there may be a hint.) Then, I thought if I'm only going to glaze one side how about making one side look like the backside so it wouldn't require glaze and not look unfinished. Not really dazzling.

I tried pouring only half of the mold, which wasn't too bad. But, the glazing was a problem again and some of them stuck to the kiln shelf even where they weren't glazed.

Tshirt heat transfe

Even if we could resolve all those issues, we come to getting the image onto the ornament. The images are so brightly colored and fun I hate to give up anything on them. So, using the transfer paper especially made for glazing will not work because it is one color.
I could paint them all with china paints, but they would then be $100 a piece and I would go start raving mad.
Heat tranfser is NOT working. The t-shirt paper didn't work at all. So, I ordered the ceramic tile paper, which only came in 11x17" sheets in packages of 50, of course. Following the instructions there, I got only partial images on a few and a lot of broken ornaments from the pressure in the press. And, did I mention the warping problem? Yah, that is a problem in the heat transfer press. If the ornament is warped even a little bit the image won't adhere to it. And, the clay gods insist on a bit of warping just to make the piece more interesting.

Okay, so why not glue them? That works!!!! Then, I dipped the whole thing into lacquer. That worked, too. But, something gets lost in these...they still don't dazzle me.

Glued image, dipped in lacquer.

My inventive husband suggested canning lids. First, I tried the ceramic/metal transfer paper. Not a good try. But, maybe if I really followed the instructions. But, nope! Okay, so glue and lacquer will work, but do I really want them on canning lids?

We haven't discussed the problem of hanging the ceramic ones. A hole punched all the way through is the least problematic and probably the best way to go, but I hated giving up on the wire thing that is used on all ornaments. ARgh-h-h-h-h-h!

Ceramic/metal transfer paper on canning lid.

Maybe they are not such a great idea. If after all this they still don't dazzle me, will they dazzle anyone? Maybe I should really simplify and take the ceramic ones, poke a hole in them and spray paint them a color, add glitter, be happy.

I think it's time to go back to selling Christmas cards and putting my cute designs on paper for other cards until I come up with a better idea.

Okay, maybe I could make a mold of a vintage canning jar lid and glue the image onto the top and then dip in lacquer? Okay, but then I need images that pertain to a canning jar lid and Christmas, not Rudolph....
Okay, STOP THE MADNESS!!!! Go make a cuppa and get back to real work!

iSad

2011-10-07T13:53:00.000-07:00

Yes, I stole the title from the tv and then typed it here on my Macintosh computer. But, I bet I am one of only a handful of people who read that Steve Jobs died in the newspaper. Yes, a real paper one that is delivered to my front door every morning at 4:00 a.m. Instead of reading it on an iPad or an iPhone.

The headline read something like this: The Man Who Made Tech Cool. Now, I'm not much of a groupie and I've never been a swooner. And, you all have heard me go on and on about the evils of huge corporations, etc., etc., etc. But, I feel sad about Steve Jobs not being around anymore and I really did think he was cool. You see, I'm a Mac person, have been since 1985. Yup, I started my computer career on one of those little 512k (although I think it was the earlier one, but I can't remember the number). You know the little screen with the smiley computer face that popped up. And, when it didn't pop up with a smiley face but with two X's for eyes, you knew you were going to have a very bad day. Fortunately, those days were few. My biggest problems come from upgrades to anything and I'm pretty sure that isn't a Mac problem.

I've worked on PCs, too. But, the first time I sat down to a PC after years of Macs, I felt blindfolded. Where's my desktop?! You remember Windows 95? We Mac users smugly smiled and said, "Oh, yeah, that's like Mac 1985, right?" And, you know all your PC viruses, thanks to Mr. Jobs et al, we don't get them often...stronger immune system, I guess.

I heard someone say yesterday that Jobs wanted to create a computer that could do all this cool stuff but the normal person only had to turn it on and it worked and we didn't have to know what went on inside. My kinda guy...my kinda computer.

The greatest thing about a Mac was that it could draw straight lines. Do you know how hard that is? No more Rapidiograph pens and white out and the real cut and paste, like with glue and paper and scissors. I started out making forms for a company I worked for and the Mac along with the Laserprinter with postscript fonts...ah-h-h-h, heaven on earth. From then on my livelihood was based on having a Macintosh computer. The day I learned how to draw a curved line with beziers and Adobe Illustrator was huge. Now, I paint on the computer. All because of this guy I've never met and the people he chose to have around him.

So, I am iSad that Steve Jobs died this week. I know there will be innovations. But, this was one of my own generation and I kinda liked him and there is a part of me that is proud to be a Mac user. That is cool.


Self portrait done in late '80s of me in front of one of my early Macs just starting out Walton Laser Graphics.

The Runaway Bush

2011-09-28T06:57:00.000-07:00

It's called a "Mile-A-Minute" bush and it is aptly named. I chop it back to nothing every spring and continue to cut it back all summer. It will overtake everything and I shake my head every year wondering whatever was I thinking when I planted it. I have cursed it, chopped it, hacked at it, wished to high heaven I hadn't planted it, ever. I have sworn to pull it out. I have even looked past it. But, then the end of summer comes and the mornings are crisp and it's Fall and I look out and see it in all its glory. Okay, it gets to stay.

Birthday Surprise!

2011-09-21T08:20:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to me! Here is Lee's gift to me! It's a used Rodriguez guitar if that means anything to you. He assures me, and it has a wonderful tone, that this was a really good buy. It feels good to have a guitar back in my hands. I have learned that my arthritic hands can still bend enough to hold a few chords. And, he bought a "classical" guitar for me so that I don't have to cut my nails. I know silly girl stuff. And, since he is a left-hander, I needed my own guitar because there is no way I can play his. I still love my flute and don't plan to give it up. The guitar is really for me to play alone or with Lee. Just something to relax with, not for an audience.
So, practice will include a stint on each or maybe trade off every other day.
If we are judged by who has the most instruments (kind of like boat poverty for those river people), we have now: bongo drums, a tamborine, a saxophone, 2 flutes, a piccolo, and 2 guitars. But, who's counting?

Canning Season!

2011-09-21T08:12:00.000-07:00

What is it about canning that entrances me so? Could just be the satisfaction of seeing all the colorful jars standing in line waiting to be popped open in December or January with a smell of summer in them. The shorter days, the slant of the light, the chill in the morning all say it isn't summer anymore. Soon we'll be wanting to wear sweaters and eating hot, hearty soups with crusty bread. This season of harvest resonates deep inside me. But, instead of a bear eating enough to allow it to sleep all winter, I feel like a little squirrel trying to gather food for the winter. So, here is my "nut" harvest so far: Roasted Tomato Salsa, Roasted Tomato and Vegetable Sauce and Bread and Butter Pickles. Mm-m-m-m-m!

Finished!

2011-09-01T10:15:00.000-07:00

I'm finished except for a few extras that I have nebulous ideas for. But, everything that will go out in a brochure is done. It always feels like a race to the end and this year is no different. I'm off to the library for an audio book; it makes the labeling and stamping of the brochures go faster.

Here are a few more of the 13 new cards I made this year:

Vacation

2011-08-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

Next year, I'll just put up a "Gone Rafting" sign. It's been a big month. Lots of fun and laughter. So, here's just a start at some of the stuff that has gone on:

Another big '0' birthday, this time for my little sis!

Way Back

2011-08-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

Art Group's "word" for the month was: Way Back

Because the hostess's home had a flooding problem we didn't meet on the scheduled day. And, because I want instant gratification, and, because I love this painting, I just have to share it. Here is my definition of "Way Back." Of course, it is also a self-portrait.

65th Birthday Mugshot

2011-08-01T08:48:00.000-07:00

Continuing my tradition of giving my friends and family a "mug shot" portrait for the big "0" or "5" birthdays. Here is my tribute to Jim for his 65th! Happy Birthday, Agador!

Magic Moments

2011-07-31T06:20:00.000-07:00

There is a reason this looks blurry.

A record!

Let the waterfights begin!

Magic!

Big Brothers/Big Sisters organization makes a big deal about "magic moments" that happen when a mentor touches a child. Yesterday there were a lot of "magic moments" happening all day long. Here are my favorite top ten, okay, so there are really eleven:

Greg, Debra, and Sara so gracefully, giving up their own boats so that our guests had use of them. And, Kathy for loaning her boat to Aarah so she could give it a go. Not that the four of them didn't get anyone who went near them wet; that is another magic moment.
Greg and Corbin, leaving behind their own boats because we thought we had enough, and then finding out we didn't have enough volunteering to go home. No way! See above!
Paige needing and receiving a lot of hand-holding because she was so afraid she was going to tip over. This is the same Paige who did not tip over, paddled her kayak like a champ and swam the last mile to the take-out.
Mackenzie who floated more times down the current after lunch than anyone there. You all remember the story about who the greatest surfer was? Well, Mackenzie was the greatest!
Kaylynn who carried more than her share from the cars down to the put-in and paddled more miles than any of us because Allan wouldn't let her get ahead of him and she had to keep going up-river to get all the paddling done she wanted to do.
Jayden who finally worked up his courage to spray water in Lee's face. This was after his Big Brother told him there were no rules to the water-fight game.
Special thanks to Kristen for rounding up the water bottles, whistles, and jelly flyers and washing, filling, freezing and labeling the water bottles. Jessica was very impressed that the bottles had everyone's name on them.
Special thanks to Jeanne for rounding up all the fun goodies from Commuteride. They entertained my three charges while we waited in the parking lot for the boat exchange.
Special thanks to Kim from Idaho Parks and Rec for the backpacks and tshirts she handed out. And, for helping out with shuttling boats and people and for just being a great river person.
Thank you Lee who loaded 11 boats on our trailer and truck! That has to be a record. And, yes, he had to put up with my incessant counting and then never being able to tell him how many paddles I really needed. (I'm still not sure on that one.)
To all of you who gave of yourselves, your boats, and your hearts to make the day "magic" for twelve kids who hopefully slept well last night with a river in their dreams.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart...it was magical for me, too.

2011-07-22T10:14:00.000-07:00

Things I have done since my last post:

painted a painting for "Way Back" my Art Group's word for the month
sketched a birthday mugshot
thought about a birthday mugshot (thinking does count)
cut back stuff in the garden to make it presentable for upcoming parties and to contain the self-seeding a tiny bit
organized, organized, organized BBBS Paddle Event

31 boats or seats in boats
31 paddles
31 pfds
18 experienced paddlers
the biggest BUG in the whole thing!!!! Invasive Species Stickers! ARGH-H-H-H-H!!!!

practiced my choice for the upcoming House Concert, Aug 20
RAFTED!
Thought about Xmas card ideas (thinking should count for something)

6 Down, 9 To go

2011-07-14T10:26:00.000-07:00

Now onto pulling weeds and cutting back all the plants that looked wonderful a week ago but have now started to reseed the entire back yard

4th of July

2011-07-05T15:01:00.000-07:00

Every 4th of July my neighborhood on Malad Street get together for a "'Hood Party" as it is listed on my calendar. It is a nice time to catch up, grill some hot dogs, play croquet or boccie ball and set off fireworks that we all bring to put in the red wagon.

This year was our 10th year and this year was the best. My neighbor and I dusted off our high school flutes to play a patriotic rendition of Yankee Doodle and we managed a bit of harmony to keep us apart on the key of "C" for Battle Hymn of Republic. Lee serenaded all of us as we watched neighbors show us their salsa dance steps. And, Lee and another fellow guitarist sat together to speak "guitar-eze." Besides the five households who originally attended, we had three new ones, which always makes it fun to get to know your neighbors better.

In this age of lightning speed technology, a limping economy, war and unrest in the far corners of the world, it felt so good to be part of a neighborhood who watch over each other. We don't have coffee klatches like my mom did in Minnesota, but we do knock on each other's doors for cups of sugar or a bit of electrical tape. For most of the year, we only have time to wave to each other as we pull in and out of our garages. But, for ten years we have dragged our tables and chairs down the street, shared food and fireworks with each other and in this day and age, that is remarkable.

A ten year old said it best, "I love 4th of July. It's the best of all the holidays!" When asked if it was better than even Christmas, he said, "Oh, yeah! Way better!"

I am so proud of all of us.

64 Years = 64 Miles

2011-07-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

The Morning After

Take one man's 64th birthday (plus one more mile for his buddy's 65th birthday later in the month), 18 bicycles, 18 people to power the 18 bicycles, 64+1 miles of an old railroad track turned trail, a river, sunshine, miles of wildflowers, trail covered with cottonwood fluff looking like snow (if only it could have been half that cold), many gallons of water, dozens of granola and cliff bars, pounds of nuts, and a motivation to ride as far as your bottom would sit on a bike seat and what do you get? Eighteen sore bottoms!

My Top Ten Favorite Memories:

Bear poop...everywhere! Oh, my!
Laughter and chatter on the trail, which really did make the miles slip past.
Anticipation of seeing the SAG wagon just up ahead and knowing cold water was there.
Slipping on my cold, wet tshirt after I dipped it into cold water.
Sight of two bikers as they rode ahead through of tunnel of green and knowing I would soon be riding through it, too.
"Halfway" with a bonus of seeing baby owls peer out of a nest from under the trestles of an old bridge.
Seven miles to go, a fifteen minute rest, and a body that just plain refused to sit on the bike seat (new rule: no fifteen minute rests!).
Soreness in places that I never new existed vanishing as we watched a huge buck spring through of meadow of lime-green grass and the last rays of a long day's sun.
'Home' to the cheers and cold beer of our stalwart mates who never plan to do much of anything on July 3.

Creative Edge, 1a

2011-06-24T09:26:00.000-07:00

Using Mary Todd Beam's technique in the first exercise of her book "The Creative Edge," I painted this small painting (8x10) from a photograph I have of rocks in a river. I used some of her palette, but also added Mars Black, Burnt Umber and Raw Sienna. How did I ever live without Quinacridone/Nickel Azo Gold?! Quinacridone Crimson is a wonderful red that I need to experiment with more.

She suggests using illustration board, but I love canvas. So, I covered this canvas with Gel Medium before I painted. I think I will do another on canvas and put a couple layers of the medium on it before I paint. I didn't use the shelf liner this time. But, next time I will with this same idea and see what happens.

As always happens in life, I must set aside paint to click my mouse for Xmas cards and pour slip into my molds. There is never enough time or space for all the projects on my list. And, after a few days in the mountains, I came home with some great decorating ideas. Prioritize, prioritize, prioritize.

Molly

2011-06-16T17:44:00.000-07:00

Molly was born on February 14, 1996 and died June 16, 2011. She was quite a marketer and when her parents walked into the Humane Society on May 27, 1996 she put on her very best smile to convince them she was "the one." She and her Boy-One fell in love at first sight. She would go anywhere he went, no questions asked. He was by far her most important person and she loved and trusted him with her life.

She and her Girl-One had to get used to each other. They finally came to an agreement: she would love her Girl-One when her Girl-One was at her most irritating and her Girl-One would love her and take care of her in her old age.

As you can see above, Molly understood the importance of cute; Molly was very photogenic. Her Girl-One used her cute, good-looks for a couple Christmas cards and school art projects.

Molly lived a full life. Her first adventure was a camping trip at Bear Valley. It would be a full year before she discovered that boat rides were going to be a life-long passion. But, from then on the words "boat ride" made her head tilt to the side and her ears perk up. She paddled in Bear Valley, on the Payette (Cascade to Cabarton, Hot Springs, Middle Fork, and at Montour so many times that she had time to dig a trench big enough to make an island), the Boise (through town, South and North Forks and out at Parma to the Snake River Confluence) and the Snake River (eastern Idaho and southwestern Idaho).

Her other love was climbing on rocks especially in the deserts in Nevada and Southern Utah. She climbed many miles discovering ways through the labyrinth of Valley of Fire. She even had a few places named for her: Fraidy-Dog-Leap and Sore-Foot-Flats. (Anyone would have been afraid to jump; Molly was courageous to do it! And, sore feet are a real detriment to chasing jack rabbits that were in serious need of being chased!)

When she wasn't going for boat rides or climbing on rocks she spent her time in Boise ready to go anywhere, anytime with her favorite people, her Boy-One and her Girl-One (after she got over her problem with "make-sick" roads). She never forgot a trail and could find her way back to her truck every time.

She had many canine friends in her life beginning with Emma, her almost-sister. She shared adventures and even her home with Homer and Kinja, Jake, Niner, Lupè, Maddie, and Wylie. She will always be sorry for the lip-piercing she gave Sadie (of course, it was Molly's treat...she was just saving it for later). She leaves behind other canine friends: Woody, Orvis (a very digusting retriever in Molly's opinion), Noshke (best kept at Ken's Lake), Tiny, Allie, Buddy, Rowdie, Wilma, Shelly, Tasha, Sadie, Annie, Sarah, Aiden. Canine friends she joined up with today: Sasha, Emma, Sophie, Bear, Lucy, Jake, Willie, Niner, Annie, Bandit, Edith, Timberwolf, Mabel, and Cody.

Molly was always happy and except for her dislike of dogs that fetched (how could they lower themselves?!), she loved everyone she met. She will be sorely missed by her parents and by all the people who got used to seeing her biting bubbles over the side of her canoe.

Wait for us at the top, Molly-Wog. We promise we'll have sausage!

Creative Edge, Take One

2011-06-11T18:54:00.000-07:00

If you have followed this blog for any length of time, you know this isn't my normal style. But, I am reading a book entitled, "The Creative Edge" by Mary Todd Beam. It is filled with exercises and this is the first. New mediums, new ideas, experimentation and letting everything happen. I'm even using her suggested palette. What I love about this exercise is applying paint to illustration board that is covered with gel medium. It is oh-so smooth. The other thing I loved was putting on gloves and painting with my fingers. How often do we give ourselves the permission to play with art?

Okay, so I didn't follow her instructions completely. But, I learned and moved my horizons just a bit further out. It felt good and every time I look at this painting, I feel the hope and excitement of trying something new.

Xmas Cards, take 1

2011-06-09T15:24:00.000-07:00

Take a photo, (my own photo taken with the help and kindness of Concrete Placement Company here in Boise),

and an idea,

and you get a Christmas card for Crane folks or even concrete bucket folks.

Okay, so it isn't that simple and as you can see from the sketches, I struggle with it. But, I'm always happy when the first card comes off the drawing board. I'm one closer to having them all done and usually as I work on them, the old muses wake up, stretch, have some coffee and start to send me some ideas.

Avoidance mode...

2011-05-27T09:07:00.000-07:00

Since I am trying to do anything (I've even vacuumed) except what I should be doing. Here are new valances that I made for the office and I'm working on more for the bedroom. Of course, the sewing machine is out now and I need to finish this before I put it away because if I put the sewing machine away I'll never finish these. And, yes, I've become bow-tie obsessive. I PROMISE to get back to work when I'm done!

Pat's Pretty Yarn Bowls

2011-05-23T06:20:00.000-07:00

Aren't these darling? My sister, Pat's, newest pottery! No more chasing the ball of yarn across the floor!

A bowtie...

2011-05-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

Over coffee he said, "I think it would be cool to wear a bow-tie to the house concert tomorrow night."
I said, "I'll look for one at the store."
He said, "Don't spend much money on it, it's just for fun."

Not a bow-tie in sight at the stores I stopped at, so I thought, "I'll just make one. How hard can it be?!"

Five hours later after two tries (one would fit Molly) and thanks to the Internet and YouTube, a bow-tie a Chippendale dancer would be proud to wear.

Finally....

2011-05-22T08:41:00.000-07:00

Eight jars finished. I do love them. Ideas from my Extraordinary Art Group: secret container, ghost container, make it buttercup yellow, make it like the blue and white crockery with a bit of that old blue on it. There is great potential for lots of ideas that are floating through my mind, including cut a hole out of the top and make it into a vase for the "what will you do with it" question.

However, for now, I am in love with this jar because of the pattern it makes when they stand in a line. The repetition speaks to me somewhere deep inside. And, I am attracted to the history of the canning jar like I was attracted to the pottery made by Sub-Saharan female potterers: an object from deep within the sphere of women. I know there are men who "can," but traditionally it was, and still is, in the women's domain. When I see canning jars, old or new, I think of my mother and my mother-in-law and my grandmothers and my aunts and my sisters and my niece and of all the other women in my life who so carefully wash and chop and stir and pour and boil and listen for the "pop" to feed the people they love through the winter.

What I have learned:

My slip-castings shrink almost 30% through the glaze firing!
I will make a new mold of a larger jar to make up for the shrinkage. I want the jars quart size, not pint size.
I will glaze them with a shiny white glaze. They came out of the bisque firing bright white, but with just a clear glaze they came out a gray-ish color. I want bright white.

I still want to make at least a dozen that are just the jars in white before I start the improv. But, my mantle dressed in white is beginning to be a reality.

The I's have it

2011-05-15T12:29:00.000-07:00

For about a year I knew it was time to empty the dried up and faded lavender from my purple Similac cans that I found at a garage sale. But, I couldn't decide what else to do with them and I still liked them. On the other hand, I've wanted to stencil inspiring words on my wall in the office. One day I had this idea.

The I's have it: Imagine, Illustrate, Investigate, Inspire, Invent, along with an inspiring gourd by my friend the Gourdess, Lesley Metzger.

I just have to say it: Ke-Ute!

Resume

2011-05-06T08:04:00.000-07:00

This year I have decided to challenge myself to enter and submit artwork. I submitted artwork for the Boise Weekly cover, which was returned. I think they like a bit more avant garde artwork. I'll think about that one. My "Belly-to-Belly: piece or the "Simple Dream" pieces would probably have a better chance.

The City of Boise is supportive of public art. Recently, there was a "Call to Artists" to submit work to be chosen to decorate one of the gray traffic boxes on the street corners. I thought about it and finally on the day it was due, I decided to take the plunge and enter.

It was a really good process to work through. I needed to send 10 samples of my work (72dpi), a resume and a cover letter. I haven't put together a resume in nine years. It surprisingly came together quickly and I was proud of my submission. There is always disappointment if you aren't chosen; however, knowing I put my best foot forward makes me feel good.

Potpourri

2011-05-05T10:24:00.000-07:00

Just a few little tidbits:
Look at my new/old purchase. I love the sound it makes when I use it. I love the typeface. It brings back memories of my Mom using her typewriter, which was a step up from this. And, believe it or not, I used one very similar in one of my first jobs. There was an electric typewriter in the office, but it was always being used and it was away from my desk. So, I unearthed one like this from the back room and I typed everything I did on it. I became quite proficient with white-out and correction tape.

Continuing down memory lane. Lee and I were driving down a neighborhood street a few weeks ago, when suddenly he stopped and backed up. There was a trailer full of old roller-skates. I happened to have my camera and snapped these shots. Is this the funniest thing to collect? Okay, so it isn't any funnier than my collection of rolling pins.

One more thing. In an effort to chronicle for myself the projects I work on this year, I finished and distributed a compilation of writings from my Solstice-to-Solstice writing group. A group of women took on a challenge: write something each day from Solstice to Solstice, Dec 21 to Mar 20. The book turned out rather nicely, I thought. But, the real treasure are the writings inside and the connections we all made with each other over the ninety days. It was a wonderful process.

Canning Jar #2

2011-05-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

The mold is working! Here is Canning Jar #2. Numbers 3 and 4 are drying, too. Hooray! I just love that it works; it seems like magic.

Unfortunately, I'm still in the trial and error phase of the ornaments. I did a glaze firing and my idea didn't work real well. I hung the ornaments from wires on rods that were hung across posts. It's the way beads are fired. But, the ornaments were heavier than beads and the rods bent in the middle. The red ornaments came out okay; although, I broke two putting them into the kiln...another vote for bisque firing them first. Once again proving the old adage: never hurry clay, it always wins. But, the green ones are stuck together...nice art piece, don't you think? :)

Okay, so here back to the drawing board. I have another idea for the next firing. Onward and upward!

Belly to belly

2011-05-05T07:34:00.000-07:00

So, the local weekly newspaper has an astrologer that I read each week. He's kind of a philosopher/astrologer and I enjoy the way he writes things. As often happens in life a few things came together in a spontaneous way for the above painting to happen.

First, my art group was meeting at my house this month. Last month's word was "migration" and as we discussed it, we talked about Sandhill Cranes and their mating behaviors. The phrase caught my attention and so that became the phrase for this month: mating behaviors.

Second, I have been playing for over 6 months, "Girl From Ipanema" along with Stan Getz and Austrid Gilberto. I just love this song and I love the way they do it. Every time I get my flute out I have to play it at least once, if not more. In the song, Austrid says the "Girl" walks just like a samba. I didn't know what a 'samba' was, so I began to research it on the internet.

Third, I opened the Boise Weekly, turned to the astrology page and here is what Rob wrote for Libras:
The style of dance known as the samba seems to have its origins in the semba, an old Angolan dance in which partners rub there navels together. In the African Kimbundu language, semba also means "pleasing, enchanting" and in the Kilkongo tongue, it denotes "honoring, revering." In accordance with the astrological omens, I invite you Libras to bring the spirit of semba to your life. Use your imagination as you dream up ways to infuse your intimate exchanges with belly-to-belly reverence and enchantment. Be serpentine and worshipful. Be wild and sublime. Bestow your respectful care with all your slinky wiles unfurled.

So, that's where a couple dancing belly-to-belly on top of a guitar and a flute came from. And, here's to belly-to-belly dancing! :)

The Wedding

2011-04-29T05:44:00.000-07:00

Excuse me if I indulge in just a bit of "happy-ever-aftering." A royal wedding. I didn't watch the one thirty years ago. There is this very American part of me that says I must not be too much of a royal watcher or too much of an anglophile. But, then there is the little girl who wants to believe in "Prince Charming" and "happy-ever-afters." So, for sixteen years I surreptitiously looked at every book, magazine or newspaper for every photograph and story of Princess Diana. I looked down on the paparazzi that hounded her, but I looked at every photo and read every story. I watched her naive start as a young Princess marrying a man she thought she loved and whom she thought loved her. She wanted the same fairy-tale story that we all wanted. I watched her have the heirs that were so important to the monarchy, but were her babies and we watched her be their mother in every sense of the word, protecting them, loving them. I watched her become glamorous and more beautiful as she grew into her role. She was so different than the staid, stuffy Windsors.

And, now, her son is marrying a beautiful young lady. I think a lot of us feel a connection to he and his brother. When you grieve for and with someone, you feel closer to them, no matter how far removed you are from them. I know I grieved the day Diana died; although, my American side wouldn't let me talk about it much. But, today there is another young couple marrying in great pomp and circumstance. Giving us a show and reminding us that maybe there is just one shining moment of Camelot.

All that being said, I have to say thank goodness for Diana's good looks and now for Princess Kate's beauty. The Prince is actually a good-looking guy. The Windsors really needed a little help with that in their gene pool.

The Canning Jar, #1

2011-04-24T15:40:00.000-07:00

Well, here is a first try at the canning jar. The author, Peirce Clayton, of the book, A Clay Lover's Guide to Making Molds, said not to leave the casting slip in the mold for too long sitting right-side-up or the bottom will get too thick. The author said that for the project he did in the book, casting a mold of a brick, he left the slip in the mold for 30 minutes. The lid on my jar, which is the bottom of the mold, is about an inch thick, the sides are a half inch thick. So, I'm thinking I could do with less time. :) I'm still on a huge learning curve. But, I also poured slip into the ornament mold and poured it out right away...the ornaments are wonderfully light and thin-walled.

Also, the author said when you pour the excess slip out of the mold, don't let it glug, glug, glug. It creates a suction and will collapse the walls of the piece. He didn't lie; it does. No, glug, glug, glug, next time.

Testing, testing, testing.

Ornaments, next step...

2011-04-24T09:07:00.000-07:00

So, here are my first tries at firing and glazing the ornaments. The glazes worked, the mold worked to make the ornament. The ornament has one small problem: it collapsed in the center. That wouldn't be a problem except I want to use our heat-transfer machine to put my artwork on them. Of course, I will try just to make sure, but I'm pretty sure it is a problem. Back to the Potter's Center to find something to hang the ornaments on instead of laying them on down. Also, Mandy had a good suggestion: after I take them out of the mold, stand them on edge on some egg-crate foam to dry. I'll try all of this and more. I will also try out decals, which I have just begun to read more about.

My hope is that when I'm done, I will be able to make these with little difficulty if I have all the glitches worked out. Yes, in a perfect world... At least I'd like to get it to work most often.

This is why a potter gets a glazed (sorry for the pun) look in their eyes when you ask them to make something they don't make or in a color they don't have. Changing a color or making a new form requires a lot of time and trial and error. It isn't like a painter who can add a bit of cadmium red or phalo blue and find just the right shade. Pottery is a magical endeavor, but no potter is exempt from the pottery gods whims.

More mold making...

2011-04-17T20:05:00.000-07:00

I have this great idea to make ceramic jars from a slip-cast mold of an antique canning jar. This was the first half after the plaster set. Because nothing can be easy, the jar would not come out of the mold. I don't necessarily need the jar to come out of the mold, but since I'm going to pour the second half on top of this one, I wanted to make sure the jar could come out when I was all done. Eventually, I carved down far enough that the jar would jiggle a bit. I worked at it for hours. Finally, my husband walked into the studio and pulled on one end and I pulled up on the other end and it came out. Whew!

The problem was that the top and the bottom had undercuts, indentations. So, when I poured the plaster it filled those up and when I tried to pull it out the jar was basically locked in. So, I had to carve the plaster away from the lid and the bottom. Good lesson...not one I'll make very soon.

So, here is a photo of the completed mold. It looks like the jar is convex, but it is really concave. I will mix the slip-cast clay pour it into the mold. The clay will stick to the plaster and I will then pour out the excess, let it dry, open the mold and, hopefully, pop out a ceramic jar.

I showed my sister the mold and told her it was made from an old canning jar. She thought I said it was a mold of a "vagina." :) Now, that would be an interesting project. One that would have gotten a lot of attention in my college classes. I can hear the question now, "What can you put in your vagina?"

I'm sticking with the old canning jar. I have a vision of a row of white ones standing on the mantle. And, then there are my other nebulous ideas floating around in my head. Now, if the mold will just hold liquid clay.

Treasures

2011-04-11T06:29:00.000-07:00

Recently, I went to the mailbox, two days in a row, to find treasures! It wasn't my birthday or Christmas or any other holiday, but presents came in the mail!

Here is the first treasure from my dear friend, Jan Harris. She is an talented artist and wonderful friend. I was so-o-o-o excited to open the box to find one of Jan's beautiful encaustic pieces made especially for me!

A year ago we hosted "A Different Kind of House Concert." Jan not only drove over to attend, but graciously brought some of her artwork to display. While she was here she took photos of the evening. This piece was made starting with a black and white photo of my red, wicker rocker. She colored it with colored pencils and then mounted it on a board and continued with her collage and encaustic magic. How exciting for me! I have set it right next to where I sit in my red, wicker rocker.
Thank you, Jan! My Jan Harris Original will be precious to me forever.

But, wait, the next day, it still was not my birthday or Christmas and when I went to the mailbox there was another package waiting for me! My sister who lives in North Carolina knitted this beautiful shawl for me. Of course, all my favorite colors. I can't wait for a dress-up event to wear this beautiful shawl. Hm-m-m-m, I think maybe a new skirt or dress to go with it is in order.

Learning Harmony

2011-04-05T06:18:00.000-07:00

Learning harmony. I can play it on my flute, but it is one step removed from actually singing it. Singing it is like learning a new language. The frustration I feel is like the argument my mind has when I am faced with drawing something that is difficult. The left side screams, "NO! It's too hard!" While the right side silently begins to dissect it into shapes and values. The right side will figure it out given time, but sometimes the left side makes enough noise and throws a big enough tantrum that both sides shut down. That's what is happening right now with learning to sing a harmony part. My left side of my brain is screaming that it is not the tune; my right brain is quietly trying to assimilate it into being THE tune.

Wish me luck because by May 21 I have committed to singing the harmony with Lee while he plays his guitar. I just need to discipline the tantrums of my left brain and encourage the heartfelt tries of the right.

Friendship

2011-03-29T11:06:00.000-07:00

Friendship is such a funny thing; you just never know when it will find you. We just said good-bye to our new friends, Ron and Nan and their little dog, Ruby. The good-byes were done quickly; no one wanting to drag them on. Hugs and promises to keep in touch; they drove away as we waved good-bye and I reflected how serendipitous our meeting was.

Lee and I had been camped at Valley of Fire for a week. New people moved into the campsite next door and we watched as they set up their camp, while we sipped our wine in the sunset. We noticed they were from Alaska from their license plates and they were our age.

The next morning I was coming back from taking Molly for a stroll into the brush, Ron and Nan were walking Ruby. Of course, dog people talk about their dogs and I watched to make sure that Molly didn't bully little Ruby, a miniature Beagle. They asked if there was any good hiking, Lee joined us and the conversation took off. I'm not sure what made me do it, but I asked them if they wanted to join us on a hike. It was a safe bet: Lee's knee was sore, so we were going to take it easy and only go as far as he could take it. That meant that if they couldn't go very far, no one would lose face. Of course, there was still the tricky part: they were from Alaska...Palin fans or no?

It turned out the very best way: we took the full hike, Lee's knee did very well, Ruby loved climbing on rocks and Ron and Nan turned out to be serious hikers and outdoors people. The final test: I asked if they could see Russia from their back door. They held their heads in the hands and moaned. We had instant camaraderie as we are from the state of Idaho, which is home to Helen Chenoweth, Bill Salli and, lest we ever forget, good ol' toe-tapping Craig. The next day another hike and shared dinner. We exchanged phone numbers, addresses, home and email.

Off we went in our separate directions and a while later I received an email asking a favor. They had left their passports at home and needed them to go through Canada to catch the ferry at Prince Rupert, B.C. Could they have them mailed to us and they would come through Boise to pick them up. Of course!

Then, a door on their camper broke and they needed to have the replacement sent to us. No problem! Can't wait to see you guys! But, we're still strangers, nice strangers, but strangers nonetheless. They called when they were in Jackpot and insisted on staying at an RV park in Nampa close to a manufacturer of a type of camper they were considering buying. I told them they could camp in our driveway, but they didn't want to put us out. However, as things will happen, they came for dinner and stayed five nights.

We played cards, ate good food, drank wine, walked on the Greenbelt, paddled canoes on the Snake, visited my sister and her husband, met our friends, told our stories about adventures, misadventures, families and life. We discovered similarities: gardening, reading, adventuring, a feeling of responsibility to be good citizens of not just the U.S., but the world. All while they bought a new truck, a used camper, and sold their old truck on Craigslist. Besides getting a bunch of things done on their to-do list before they drive the 1500 miles to Prince Rupert to catch the ferry on the 10th of April.

Our last toast with a good beer from a local micro-brewery: to new friends who feel like old friends.

I think there is a trip to Juneau, Alaska, on the ferry, of course, for the Waltons.

The Noshery

2011-03-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

I met a dear friend for lunch last week at a new restaurant in town. It's called Salt Tears Coffeehouse and Noshery. It was a grocery store, so it is a huge space. One quarter of it is the restaurant and the rest is an artist's co-op with lots of wonderful artwork.

One artist made what she called "Wild Women." I was so inspired by them. I will return to buy at least one for myself and maybe another because I'm sure I know a "wild woman" who I can give one as a gift. The idea stayed in my mind until I had to dig out stuff to make one myself. One turned into five because I happened to have 5 little pictures of Disney princesses from the Dollar Store from some other project. Mine are a pale example of the work the artist did. However, my Pretty Ladies are funky, bright little things that make me smile.

They are made with wooden clothes pins that are about 3" long. I wrapped wire around them to make arms and legs. I added paper, ribbon, beads, glitter...you know, arty ephemera.

Simple Dream

2011-03-23T07:55:00.000-07:00

I have friends who have tracked their dreams for over twenty years. I find this fascinating, probably because I have been unaware of my dreams. So, I decided to start to pay attention to my dreams. In the past couple weeks I had the same dream twice. After the second time, I got up and wrote down what I could remember.

I dreamed that I had this vehicle for traveling. I always travel alone, sitting in the middle and in my dream I am always going away. When I show the vehicle to my husband, I ask him if I need to put slats in the bottom for strength. I ask him this because I have a picture in my mind that when I sit in the middle and land, the middle and sides will fall to the ground and it will break. But, I never put the slats in and it never breaks. It has wheels, but I know it flies, except when I go over a hill then it's on the wheels.

For some reason the dream resonated with me so much so that I decided to paint my dream. As it worked around in my brain the words came from somewhere deep inside me. Whatever the significance, the painting gives me pleasure when I look at it. There is someplace inside me that is happy to have been heard.

Sometimes she wished that journeys could be a bit more simple.

Making art...

2011-03-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

My last post was March 15; that surprised me! I thought it was much longer ago because I feel like I have accomplished so much since then. I've worked on three projects, cleaned up the studio three times, planted tomato seeds, and cleaned up the studio again.

My "I Wish I Would Do This" list has had "submit artwork to Boise Weekly" on it for a few years. The folks at Boise Weekly, an alternative, weekly newspaper, publishes local artists work on their cover every week. If your work is chosen they pay you, yes, actual money! You also must donate your artwork to be auctioned off in November with the proceeds going to grants for local artists.

Every time I would do something that I thought was neat, I would think, "I should submit this to Boise Weekly." Finally, I decided to paint something just to submit and here it is. I'm not sure if they'll like art that is more representational than abstract. But, when I submit it I can cross it off my list and know I gave it the ol' college try. And, if they can't use it, I have a painting that I like personally.

I also wondered if I cropped it, would it be a better painting. What do you think?

Mold making...

2011-03-15T18:12:00.000-07:00

I used my new single mold to experiment with pouring a slip cast mold. Here are three tries. Two may work, but one was solid all the way through. There is a trick to how much to pour and how long to let it sit in the mold. To the right of the picture is the single mold I made in December. The chunks of clay sitting above the ornaments are tries that didn't work.

Here is the plaster triple mold I made. It was still wet when I tried it, which, of course, means it didn't work. But, the reason it didn't work is I didn't let the plaster totally dry and then we had day after day of rain and that didn't help it dry. I'm not used to having to fight dampness; things usually dry too fast in these parts. So, I cleaned it all up, chalked it all up to experience and will let it dry for a week.

Trial and error can be a long process, but I'm not ready to throw in the towel. Christmas is a long ways away.

On a good note, I made a slump mold from the top of a toilet tank. Okay, so I had leftover plaster to use up and we are getting rid of a toilet and the lid to the tank was sitting outside and turned into a great mold.

Just a Dream

2011-03-10T06:15:00.001-08:00

My left foot is in the pocket, right foot in the seam. I sit high on the back end of my beautiful red raft that has been inflated just so. I look over at the raft next to me and see my co-captain. She is settling into her spot, eyeing her crew and her boat with a knowledgeable eye. She turns to me and says, "We're ready. Want to go first?"

It is an honor to be on the river with her. More than an honor, I depend on her and I know she depends on me. She has seniority in how long she has guided a raft, which means she is ahead of the curve on knowledge. This is a business of how many miles you have maneuvered your boat down the river. It's a tricky equation, more miles more knowledge, more opportunities to swim, which in itself creates more knowledge. However, she is a "steel magnolia" from Louisiana and rarely raises her voice. Doubt her competency or do not mind her commands and you could spend your river experience either sitting without a paddle or spluttering with wave after wave in your face.

Our "crews" say we each have a "style" and they have to adjust their minds to which boat they are assigned. Mine is more of a shouting match with the waves and I believe a happy crew is a paddling crew. Smile.

I say, "Back." My crew immediately becomes quiet and takes backward strokes with their paddles as we pull away from the river bank. "Forward paddle," I lean back and rudder the boat to the right and we ferry across the current until I lean back on my paddle, again, and with the help of the current turn downstream. "That'll do," I say, and the paddling stops, conversation starts, smiles bloom. We are on the river.

It is a place I dream of all winter. If I sit very still and concentrate, I can smell the river in my dreams. The water is always cold and clear, running between high canyon walls. Tall, sweet-smelling Ponderosa pines, bushes of Alder and Syringa, willow and wild current line the edges. Mergansers shepherd their young families in and out of the shadows giving us demonstrations for paddling on the river. A red-tailed hawk screams above us.

The raft slap, slap, slaps over the riffles as I look downriver; the water is high so there aren't many rocks to dodge like there will be in another month. I see the yellow patches just underneath the water, the huge slabs of flat rock. We will float over them today, but one day this summer we will steer around them.

I put my crew through their paces spinning first right, then left. Paddling forward together helps us get used to each other and find a rhythm. We move from one side of the river to the other following the current, the inside lines, the greatest amount of water, around rocks that the water only covers in high run-off. We get a sense of each other and our boat and what the river asks of us. I describe what I will ask them to do when we reach the "big corner"; it is an S turn around a gravel bar and vertical walls, with a pillow of water placed just so. We will need all of this practice and discussion. It is not big water, just a Class II+ to a Class III-. But, swimming here could mean swimming through the canyon against rocks in cold, cold water. It is a technical, stretch of water with tight turns, almost switchbacks...hence the name Swirly Canyon.

We mosey on down with lots of chatter, laughter and smiles. Soaking in the sun and the air, all of us reveling in being on the water. However, there is a tenseness belying the easygoing banter. When the drop of the canyon changes ever so slightly and the river quickens, the chatter quiets as the noise of the water climbs in decibels and the raft picks up speed.

The river narrows a bit, then there is the gravel bar in front of us. The river runs to the left and around the bar; it will trick you here. Follow the current around the bar and you will slide up on the big pillow of water the piles up at the foot of the cliff. The raft cannot take that angle and will deposit crew members into the water to right itself. So, I turn the boat into the gravel bar, my crew paddling ever so slightly forward to keep the front of the boat in the shallow water. We round the corner and for a short, nanosecond of time, we sit perched on top of the pillow of water. Whoosh! down we go turning the boat around the corner to the left and so quickly we are in the canyon. The sound reverberates around us as we speed through the narrow drop between sheer walls of rock. A turn and there is an eddy that we spin into to catch our breath and to look for our companions in the other raft as they round the corner. We pull back out into the current and head down for another series of turns.

There is one turn where the river tricked me for a while. You enter from the right, the river helps you move to the left. A big rock lies in the middle of the narrow canyon, if you stay on the left, your crew works hard to stay there and sometimes you feel the back of the boat bounce off the rock...to close. But, if you turn the boat to the right, paddle forward a few strokes, the current takes you to the right, around the rock, over the drop, smooth and easy.

Too quickly we are through the canyon and pulling over for our lunch stop on a little sandy beach. But, this is where my winter dream stops and rewinds to the beginning.

"Back," I say, as we pull away from the bank. "Forward, paddle." I lean back on my "guide stick" and rudder the raft to the right, facing upstream, as neat as a Merganser, we ferry across the current. A red-tailed hawk screams above us as I lean back on my paddle, the raft turns downstream, catches the current and slap, slap, slaps over the riffles. "That'll do."

De-Stashing

2011-03-01T15:57:00.000-08:00

I read a magazine article about how to "de-clutter" your studio. Unless you have one of those huge expensive buildings that you worked with an architect to design, and even then sometimes, but they never show that in the pictures, studios almost always have too much stuff. I have met artists who stick to one medium, who are tidy, who are focused. But, believe me they are a rare breed.

Anyway, this article had a "pyramid" idea: at the top write down your favorite art, next line, your favorite 2 media, next, additional complementary media, and last, what can you do with just these supplies. Basically, after that get rid of the rest, defined as "de-stashing." This would narrow your focus, give you more room and more organization and the joy of sharing with others the stuff you don't need anymore. What a great idea!

What do I really love? I love big bold paintings or small bold paintings and I love a process like ceramics, which at the present time is making a mold and making slip casts. That would help empty one cupboard and bowls and jars of all the "arty ephemera" I have collected for collages. My easel may find a place to rest that is not in front of the towels and squirt bottles I use all the time. It would also make it a lot easier to water that one plant that has become a disaster waiting to happen when I crawl on top of the table and reach out with one hand while balancing on one foot and holding with the other hand to, hopefully, really sturdy shelves attached to the wall.

I'll do it! I will "de-stash." Anyone want some colored plastic whistles that don't whistle, but are great to put into a mask? How about the pair of eyelash curlers that I found on the road after they had been smashed flat? I also have false eyelashes to go with it. There is a pink and blue, rubber shark-horn off of Lee's bike that doesn't "horn" anymore, a set of chopsticks from the Panda Express, an old saxophone reed, a miniature white book of Job (yes, the real book of Job from the Old Testament), plastic colored rings and necklaces picked up from various parties, red feathers, a miniature gavel, many, many feathers from many, many walks, we won't even get into the rocks that look like hearts.

There are the three sewing machines. Oops! Gotta keep them, one is my grandmother's, one is my mother's and one was a gift. Besides they are really considered a tool for mending, which I have done once in the last ten years. And, that stash of fabric is safely out of the studio in a box in the hall closet.

As I told Lee about this idea, which, of course, he is all for, I also told him what my preferences were right now: mold and slip cast making and painting. I gave him all the reasons why these two mediums fit my lifestyle. Innocently, he suggested that maybe I sell my potter's wheel.

What????!!!!!! Are you nuts?????!!!!!! Sell my wheel?????!!!!! Okay, maybe it would be a bit more room, but it's just sitting under that table not really even taking up any space! I ran into the studio to make sure it hadn't happened in my sleep. The wheel was still there. So, was the shark. Okay, take a deep breath. It's going to be okay. You don't need to "de-stash." Just a bit of reorganizing, maybe the chopsticks can go. But wait, here's a perfect spot for them that doesn't take up any room and they will be where you can see them in case you have a great idea to do that collage of clay and....well, stuff, you know, the new idea that has been percolating in your mind for the last five years?

Make a cuppa and sit down with that magazine. I'm sure they'll have ideas for organizing the "arty ephemera" you've collected...and will continue to collect....and save.

Whew! That was close!

It's Here!

2011-02-23T10:00:00.000-08:00

Article

Follow the Light

"If I'm not in the studio all the time, I might not be there when something happens and I might miss it." Painter Reco LeBrun

My studio is the place I go to for inspiration and to work on illustrating my line of Christmas cards made especially for construction equipment people; children's stories; and 'mug-shot' paintings I make for friends and family. When I bought the windows for the studio, which faces west, the salesman tried hard to sell me a coating on the windows to block the sun. I held...I wanted all that light! The windows open for ventilation and a skylight adds more light and air. All this light gives the studio the feeling that something fun and exciting happens there.

My space holds two tables. One table adjusts to three heights: a standing height for me; a height sitting; and a setting to accommodate the little people in my life when we work on clay projects or puppet shows. The other table was my mother's. I painted it with all my favorite colors and quotations like, "Just get to work!"

I store supplies in every nook and cranny and under each table. I also have cupboards that hold clay tools, glaze ingredients, paints, arty ephemera, books, and paper.

Adjustable wire shelves over the windows can be changed around to hold plants and artwork.

For serious daydreaming and journaling, my favorite sitting spot is a red wicker rocker. I face it toward the windows so I can look over the garden and enjoy the wonderful light and be inspired.

In between projects, I always give the studio a good cleaning and put everything away to help organize my mind. But here is my confession: Even with this beautiful studio, my art still overflows onto the kitchen table. Are there ever enough flat surfaces?

In college I learned to make a lazy Susan to use when hand-building pots. You take a circular piece of 3/4" plywood, cover it with canvas, and screw a turntable apparatus onto the bottom (you can buy them at the hardware store). It holds all my most-used tools right where I need them.

Home!

2011-02-22T08:40:00.000-08:00

There is this moment of stillness in my life. I have come home, but I haven't reached out to the people in my life. Similar to when I stood outside the kitchen window that evening in Cambria, watching my friends. But, this is like being at the top of a steep hill with my bicycle. Knowing that I will soon swoosh! downward into the chaos and hub-bub, the hurry and busyness, the stretching and breathing, the reaching out and pulling in of all the people I love.

It is a moment of silence. But, only one moment before I grin, jump on the bike and scream down the hill into.........life!

I'M HOME!

Adventure, Part 2

2011-02-22T08:38:00.003-08:00

   Lee is the one with the extraordinary memory of trails. But, this spot near the Big Cholla is one I can find every time.
   I notice something new in "my" Cholla. A bird nest, nestled in among all those tricky thorns. It is built with small twigs and has a roof of mud. So safe, secure, a very smart little bird--no one will bother a nest in a Cholla.
   I move away from this sacred place to Big Horn Meadows. It is a valley filled, of course, with rocks, but also a lot of creosote bush, sage, cat claw, cholla, Morman tea. This time of year the wild Rhubarb is thriving, almost ready to bud. It always looks so out of place in the desert, too lush, too green, too improbable. There is lush, green grass for the Big Horn Sheep who live here.
   Walking down a wide wash of red sand to the Big Tank, I see that it only holds moist sand in it, now. Onto the confluence of another wash, turn left. I know my way and everything looks familiar. My step quickens toward the slot canyon on my left to see if it is passable.
   Almost anticlimactic, the tank is dry. No scrambling up around through the sticky bush. No need to back track to the slot canyon on the right. Just up and over the rocks, through Cat Claw Draw that has been cleared of the Acacia bushes that can choke the passage with thorns that will tear clothes and skin.
   I reach Fraidy Dog Leap. My heart catches at the memory of Molly bravely jumping over the crevice between two rocks. She didn't want to, but she screwed up her courage so to not let her Girl-One and her Boy-One down. I miss her companionship. My old friend who is napping now, no longer able to hike to Fraidy Dog Leap, let alone leap it.
   I continue now with a quicker step. I am so sure of myself that I plan where I am going to eat my lunch. Soon the Skull is staring at me; it is another landmark and more memories that make me smile. I climb on top of this giant rock that looks like a skull to nibble on my granola bars and cheese. Silica Dome hovers above me; although I can't see it from here. Fire Canyon surrounds me.
   I shrug into my backpack and climb off my perch. It is a scramble that looks too steep. But, it is nothing but a delightful child's game of climbing on rocks.
   Up and up and up, I go. So soon, I am there climbing out of the canyon. I start to giggle, I made it! There is a man in a leather jacket, leather shoes, pallid complexion. I am sure we are the same age, but I feel younger than he. In some strange way, I feel older, too, maybe from my communion with these ancient rocks.
   I want to say to him, "Please be astonished! I have just accomplished something wonderful!" But, we just chitchat. He is from Ohio (hence the complexion) and in Las Vegas at a convention. I say all the right things, "I am from Boise, Idaho. Yes, it is very windy up here. Yes, a storm is predicted." Smile, smile, smile.
   Inside I am laughing and saying, "No, I am not from Boise, Idaho, I am from Valley of Fire."

Adventure, Part 1

2011-02-22T08:37:00.000-08:00

    I ventured out on an adventure of my own today. At first I was going to walk in and out--no taking any chances of getting lost in that red maze.
   But, then Lee offered to drop me off at Rainbow Vista, drive to Silica Dome and leave the car and ride his bike back to camp.
   "Okay," I said, worried, "but, if I can't find my way through I can always walk back out and up the road to Silica Dome."
   He laughed, knowing me sometimes better than I do, "Okay, but you won't. You'll find your way."
   And, then as we do for all my adventures we began to strategize:

Keep looking back
Stay left until you reach the big sand dune
You'll know Big Horn Meadow, you can always find the spot where the bones were before I do anyway.
If the tank is full, you might be able to climb around by the sticky bush, unless you can't.
Then, back-track to the intersection and take the slot canyon on the right. It will be familiar to you when you get through it. That's where the sand is sometimes a tall bank and sometimes flat as a pancake.
If you get snookered there, look up for the dome. Keep heading right...eventually you'll come out to the gray part and even more right you'll come out in the desert right of the dome.
You won't get lost!

   So, he dropped me off and I headed out on a trail in the sandy field. Sand finally turned to rocks and there was the sign that said this would be a good place to take a photo. As if you might look into this overlook of Fire Canyon with all it's steeples of red and not guess it was a great picture. And there was the sign that announces, "Trail Ends Here."
   I smile and begin the climb up and around and then down, down, picking my way carefully through the rocks to the small wash below.
   There are footprints of brave visitors thinking to have an adventure. I follow those around the corner to the left. The footprints become fewer and then disappear. I am alone.
   I stop to take a drink, take off a layer of clothes, and look back. At first my mind runs with a bit of panic. It all looks the same, nothing familiar. But, I calm myself. It is familiar. Sometimes you look up for your landmark and sometimes down. You know your way, follow the little wash.
   Onward with steady footsteps, not quickly, but feeling sure as I reach the tall dune. Going this way, you just ski down. But, if I come back this way, I know it is a slog uphill, every step sliding backwards.
I look back...I will recognize this spot from a distance.
   My pace quickens as I recognize these particular rocks from all the other rocks. We found an empty turtle shell right there, once.
   Rounding another rock and looking down from my perch, I see my Big Cholla that stands next the rock face that is large and flat and comes straight down to the sand. The Big Cholla looks so healthy and happy it makes me smile. I quickly walk through the rocks and down to it. As I near it I see into my memory the bones of the little Big Horn Sheep we found many years ago. I laid them out: jaw pieces, back bone, leg bones. A few bones would disappear every year that we came back to this spot until he was gone.
   I breathed deeply and looked at the blue, blue sky. A Canyon Wren sang its perfectly tuned song. This is a sacred spot for me and I lingered filling up my insides with the calm and peace.

Behind the red rock curtain...

2011-02-15T12:52:00.000-08:00

This is posted from behind the "red rock curtain." I will post again soon. I have a wonderful photo of the resident Big Horn Sheep who passed through our camp.

FEB 10

Jim opened the door before we got there so I knew he’d been waiting for us.

I never thought he looked like his brother

But when he opened up the door and smiled he looked just like Bob.

I remembered him in his 50s and 60s, now, he was 82, he stood and moved with the help of the walker

And breathed with the help of oxygen.

But, his eyes were bright and clear and his smile big and welcoming.

Juanita stood behind him looking much the same, older, worried about him.

Immediately we began to catch up with news on all the Vosburg girls, Jim and Juanita’s children and grandchildren.

And, then, we started to talk of everyone who had died but still so close to our hearts: my Mom, his brother, Bob, Bob’s wife, Dee.

Jim didn’t remember my great-grandparents, his grandparents, but he remembered my grandparents, his Uncle Frank and Aunt Clio. And, my cousin Franklin and my Uncle Reed and Aunt Peggy.

We talked about his 23 years in the Navy, their time living on Guam and Turkey where he worked in electronics on “spook stuff.”

The time passed so quickly and soon we had to leave.

Hugs and good-byes—

I turned to look one more time and something grabbed at my heart. I went to him and kissed and hugged him one last time.

That is the last time, I have no doubt. His body is giving out on him.

He is still with dignity, at home, surrounded by his family, his wife.

Another role model is facing life’s end. Another connection to my mother soon gone.

Feb 11

The long drive was jarring. Going from riding bicycles to driving a car all day. We drove through the outposts of the mega-metropolis, over the unrelenting rush of the freeways. Finally, the lights of Las Vegas assault us. We know we’re getting close, but in the midst of everything artificial and facada, our destination seems so far away.

Finally, we turn at the reservation where the Indians sell the white-man fire-water. Suddenly, we’re alone with one small ribbon of asphalt in front of us and the black velvet night surrounding us. I slow down to 35 miles per hour because I can and because there are bunnies and burros.

We pullinto our campsite, set up the tent, lay outour pads and bags. We pull on warm pants, jackets, hats and gloves and open a bottle of good wine from the coast, “chink” our glasses to the hoots of an owl.

I know when I wake in the morning I will see the gray-green sage, the lemony green of the creosote bush, the red rock and a sky of blue.

I snuggle down into my sleeping bag, my feet icy (I didn’t put on warm socks). I pull my fleece hat off my head and stick my feet into it and pull up the zipper. I realize that as I lay on the ground it is the first time on the ground in a new year. I take a deep sigh…I’m back.

Feb 12

I pulled up my chair close enough to the red rock. I spread sunscreen on my bare legs and then stretched them out so my bare rested against the sandstone.

A gray-green lizard runs along the side of the rock stopping for a few push ups. Looking up, the top of the rock formation meets a blue sky that only looks that blue when contrasted with red rock.

The sun warms my back and my legs, but the breeze cools everthing that is shaded. Black-throated and White-Crowned Sparrows share our campsite along with squirrels who fold their tails along their backs when they run. Last night we were visited by a kangaroo rat with is chunky little body, big head and long tail that ends in a flat spade. Before dawn two Great-Horned Owls serenaded us. And, an irredescent black Painopepla joined me on my early morning run across the desert floor.

All of this, right down to the rough warmth under my feet gives my soul room to breathe.

Feb 13

Lee says the showers in Valley of Fire are the most luxurious, most delicious of any he has every had. It may have to do with the fact that we tend to end the days dusty and sweaty and that we are camping and a hot shower seems out of place. But, it is a ritual here and one we both look forward to. It is not without a bit of practice and planning. So, just in case you happen to be here and want to take a shower here are a few handy tips:

- Wear all your clean clothes to the shower, sans your underwear which you carry in your pocket.

- Inside the shower stall, after locking the door (unless you want a stranger to join you), turn on the shower to hot while you take off your clothes.

- Hang your clothes on the pegs according to what will go on first.

- Adjsut the water temperature and step under the warm spray of pure delight. The dust of the desert rinses away and the creases in your hat-hair disappear.

- Standing under the hot water you know you need to be conservative, this is a desert and water is scarce. But, you let it rain on you for just a bit longer after all the soap is gone.

- Now, the tricky part. Drying, putting on lotion and dressing is a matter of organization and a bit of yoga. Otherwise you can end up with your socks and shoes on and not panties or pants.

o Dry off your body, except the bottoms of your feet

o Dry your hair and then wrap your head with your towel.

o Now’s the time for lotion

o Dig out that underwear and put on your panties and bra.

o Tuck the towel in the door handle, raise one foot, wipe it on the towel that is hanging. While standing on one foot, put on a sock, lower this foot so you’re standing on top of your shoe. (You’ll see in a minute why this is important.) Do the same with your other foot.

o Standing on top of your shoes, take your pants, fling them out, and stick one leg into a pant leg, quickly. The trick is to put on your long pants before they have time to lay on the wet floor.

o When you have your pants on, you may then put your shoes on your feet. (I told you it would be clear.)

o Last, put on your fleece top.

Voilà! Now, you’re a clean machine and all warmed up. You’re ready for your stroll back to camp with the stars to guide you.

Feb 14

Last night our little trailer was filled

With notes from a sax and a flute

I wondered how much was evident from outside

where the land was quite and mute

I took a break to step outside under half a moon and Orion

While he wound up his signature piece

a slide from a low note to a high one

I listened to the pure sound as

I stepped away and stood by

It seemed to pierce the night not jarring,

But as a hawk would sound screaming from the sky.

His soul poured from that old brass horn

The red rocks took it in and then they sent it back

Again whole, as if to acknowledge their kin.

Harbor Seals

2011-02-05T15:02:00.001-08:00

Just outside the front door we heard the unmistakable barking of harbor seals. We hastened our steps down to the cliffs to find that they were on rocks just out of our sight in the next cove south. A quick check on the tide calendar for the low tide, we needed to head down to the cliffs at 3:30 p.m.

Three-fifteen we were at the cliffs. The tide was out just enough for us to climb over the rocks and around to the next cove. Thirty minutes and the tide would start to turn around. We climbed up and down and around and over until we could see the rocks. Still far away from us we could only see them through binoculars. The waves were crashing over them, which just made the seal easier to pick out on the rocks as they swayed back and forth with the water.

We sat on top of some rocks squinting at the seals, wishing they would swim towards us just this once. The ocean just out of our reach was roaring with its waves. Five minutes and the tide will begin to turn. It doesn't just all of sudden slam back, but we didn't want to take a chance that we would lose track of time and find ourselves clinging to a rock with waves surging around us.

Slowly we crawled back over the rocks, triumphant. We hadn't seen them up close, but we had found their hiding place. Now, when we heard their barking from our house we could picture them out on their rocky islands just out of reach of our sight but not our hearing.

Studios Magazine

2011-02-03T10:23:00.001-08:00

Woo-hoo!!! I'm excited, satisfied, proud and a bit anxious to see the new issue of Studios magazine, because my studio is featured in it. Of course, this like getting 3rd prize and only having 3 people run. There about 40 artists in the magazine. Still, I am excited and looking forward to seeing the magazine.

The magazine asks for submissions and it has been on my list of "things to do." Finally, the beginning of October I decided to send a submission. I had been holding out for a clean studio or inspired artwork and since that isn't going to happen often simultaneously, I just wrote a little something, took three photos that didn't show the dust or dirt and emailed it. Four days later the editor asked if I could write an essay 250-300 words long and send up to 15 hi-resolution photos, preferably taken by a professional, by mid-November. I called my good friend, Jim Gilmore, and asked if he would be interested in this little project even if it didn't come with any money. :) We spent an afternoon taking photos (the hardest ones were ones he had to take of me...not easy). But, here we are, now, the issue is in the pre-order stage on-line and will hit the stands soon.

Here's the link if you want to look at it:
http://www.interweavestore.com/Mixed-Media/Magazines/Studios-Spring-2011.html

I will have a copy for show & tell, no need to run out and buy it. It's pricey for a magazine, I think; however, I seem to justify buying it each time. :)

January Lessons

2011-02-01T22:27:00.001-08:00

Things I have learned in January:

It may seem, on paper, that having 6-8 people in the house is difficult to live with. But, the difficulty is getting used to only 4 after the rest leave.
Not taking things personally is a difficult lesson to learn.
Not making something personal is also not an easy lesson.
Even if you're over 50 "Thank you" and "Please" are still magic and have been important and well-used in this experiment of communal living.
Having a space to call your own and going to it with your old dog who snores is almost as good as being in your own house.
It doesn't seem quite fair that you can ride your bike 25 miles much of it uphill and into the wind, come home share a beer, eat a cookie and then eat a wonderful meal of hot soup and salad and feel like your pants are too tight at the end of the night.
What you carry on your bike and your back is a very personal choice and includes some very important choices about safety, health, well-being and, yes, I will say it, style.
I don't care what seat I am sitting on, after 25 miles a bicycle can become a bit uncomfortable.
Sometimes after miles of sweating, a hot shower is the only thing that will make me feel warm again.
After a wonderful, sun-filled day of riding your bicycle up roads of immense green hills, blooming flowers, baby calves and singing birds, there is nothing as satisfying as arriving at the place you are going to sleep, stepping off your bike, taking off your pack and walking through the door.

Fascination

2011-01-31T09:52:00.000-08:00

Another scene I never tire of watching. Notice the elephant seals are flipping sand up on themselves. The theories of why they do this is for sunscreen and during the birthing season, which is almost over with right now, the females flip sand on themselves as they become agitated when they are close to having their baby.

We've learned so much more about the seals this year.

They all travel down to this beach alone.
The males come first; they come ashore and pick a spot on the beach.
The females come down and move up and down the beach deciding which male they want to hang out with.
The females have their babies and then the males mate with their harem which can have as many as 50 females.
There are "Sneaker" males who do not have a harem, but want one. They try to sneak up and grab a few females from the big guys. There's a lot of arguing starting about this time of year.
After the mating, there is a molting season and then little by little the seals start their journey back up north.

More of the same...

2011-01-25T10:27:00.000-08:00

Can you ever get tired of this scenery?

Another day...

2011-01-20T09:30:00.000-08:00

I didn't want to ride today, but that's the good part about being part of a group–you just go along. It was a magical day that began with difficult ride into the wind. But, the shoreline offered up the treasure of all treasures: sea glass. We stopped at San Simeon State Beach and saw a Snowy Plover that we had only seen on the warning signs about watching for their nests in the sand. Up the coast and still into the wind, until we reached our destination for albacore sandwiches. We walked through a fragrant Eucalyptus forest out to the point of a peninsula owned by the Hearst family who generously allows us passage. As we walked through the forest we began to hear the squeaking and moaning of the tall trees rubbing against each other in the ocean breeze. As beautiful a song as the humpbacked whales. Out into the sunshine to listen to a lone elephant seal calling out in his hoarse, hollow voice hoping for an answer. We watched otters crack open the clam shells for their dinner while they lay on their backs floating in the surf.

But, most wonderful of all were the giant, old Eucalyptus trees. Three of them in a grove with huge branches touching the ground, twisted, gnarled. We stood in a hush of awe for such grandeur.

Back on the beach, another lone elephant seal sunning his belly, scratching himself with his fins-turned-into-fingers.

Thankfully I am a follower, because I would have missed all of it had I been left to my own whiny ways.

No words...

2011-01-18T09:36:00.000-08:00

No words necessary....

Tidepools

2011-01-16T09:17:00.000-08:00

The tide was out so we crawled over the slippery rocks looking at the world under the water. The waves crashing near us were our background music. This is a generalization, but on land when there is something that stays in one place it is a plant. In the sea it could be a living, breathing being. Their lives are so foreign to us landlubbers, they are magic.

Elephant seals, 2011

2011-01-12T09:59:00.000-08:00

In anyone's world, it's hard work giving birth and being born.

Friendship...

2011-01-05T11:00:00.001-08:00

My new bra may not change my life as advertised, but having friends that took me in hand and purchased a new, beautiful lacy, supportive bra that truly does "lift and separate," something I would never in all my life do for myself: it warms my heart. When I slip on my new beautiful bra and my equally lovely underpants, it will be like putting on armor to protect me from all the arrows that life has ready to hurl my way.

It will be tangible evidence right next to my skin that all my girlfriends walk behind me, watching my back, catching me when I fall, kissing and hugging away all the bumps and bruises of life. I will stand straighter, I will walk just a bit more fearless, knowing that I am never alone, but have an army of girlfriends with me. So to my enemies I say: Step aside; you do not know with whom you mess, me and my army of women.

A process...

2010-12-31T07:53:00.000-08:00

Between Lee's cold and the weather not cooperating, I have been given...TIME. I have had 5 days with no schedules, no plans, no events, nothing, absolutely nothing, planned. Not even a to-do list! Christmas is done and put away, the house is clean, artwork and bookkeeping finished and backed-up on an external hard-disk, everything packed to go, and absolutely nothing to do...it wasn't just a gift, it was a windfall!

First, I bought a wonderful mystery to read. Just candy for my mind. But, then, a project surfaced.

I bought these flat, round ornaments at the the after-Xmas sales last year. They are so unique and I loved the way my new designs looked glued on them. I started to investigate if I could buy more of them, when I saw something about the same kind of ornaments made of clay, but were hollow. I could make them of solid clay, but that would make them too heavy. What if I cast them from a mold like the ones I saw for sale? That is where you pour clay slip (clay in a liquid form) into a mold and the object comes out hollow. It's similar to where the pieces come from that you paint at Ceramica. I dug out my mold-making book and read about how to make the mold. I have done simple molds, but never anything this complicated. I had everything I needed to make the mold: plaster, oil soap, clay. So, with my windfall of time I plunged into the mold-making process.

I had forgotten how much I delight in a process. I love making something that has steps to it. If you follow the steps you end of with a product, maybe. After a lot of deep concentration and only one moment of panic when I poured plaster on the first half of the plaster mold without first putting the release on it–Arghghhhhhhh! I had to take it all apart, wipe off all the plaster I'd just poured, apply the release, put the mold box back together and mix another batch of plaster. But, finally, I took apart the mold box and held the mold in my hands, the plaster still warm. Ever so gently I separated the pieces; just like magic they came apart and I had a mold for the flat ornaments. I giggled and put them together, took them apart and put them back together. The whole thing has delighted me: the process and the outcome. I can't wait to fill it with slip and pop out a round, flat ornament. For now, the mold must cure and the next two months will give it time to do that. I smile as I think into the future, I have a bit of magic waiting for me when I return.

Onward...

2010-12-31T07:42:00.000-08:00

I love Christmas lights too much to not live with them all year. So, there is always one or two strings of lights around the house all year round. Here is my new decoration for the new year: lights and seashells in this glass cone that I found in an antique shop.

I love to face the New Year with all the Christmas decorations stored away and the house clean. The new year seems to be barreling my way, not that I would try to stop it if I could. January is always exciting to me because of it's newness, the start-over point.

I had wished for more time at home before racing off for Lee's Winter Vacation. It came to me unexpected, but welcomed. A little bit of time of time to catch my breath. A little time to look over the past year and to make plans for the one ahead.

I DID IT!

2010-12-23T17:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I made it! I made 13 hats and one large flip-flop pillow. I also made two batches of sugar cookies frosted with that wonderful shiney Royal icing. I made my own cookie I can't live without at Christmas: Almond Crescents. I have the Christmas cards printed and my address book updated. Who said that is was better to have everything done by December 1. December 23 works just fine.

My Little Sister

2010-12-21T04:34:00.000-08:00

A month ago Big Brothers/Big Sisters asked if Sammi and I could write something about our experience together. It seems that our star is rising as we've been together for 8 years. Below is what I sent to BBBS. Sorry it's kind of long. Above are pictures of my favorite cheerleader, my Little Sister, Sammi.

Eight years ago I had been thinking about doing some kind of volunteer and checked into Big Brothers/Big Sisters. I didn’t have any children and I thought it would be good for me to be around someone from the younger generation. I finished my interview to be a Big Sister and in just a couple days I got the phone call they had a Little Sister for me.

That was quick! So, there I was, sitting in the waiting room of the BBBS office waiting to meet my Little Sister, scared to death. I kept thinking: I know nothing about kids; what in the world am I going to talk to her about? How am I going to entertain her? What was I thinking!? As I sat there in a panic, Samantha and her mom, Kathy walked in. She looked as nervous as I was, only she got to cling to her mom. When we were seated in the office, we would look at each other and then look away. Of course, I could pretend to be the adult and act all business-like; of course, I didn’t have my mom to hold onto.

It turned out that Sammi’s sister, Danielle, also had a Big Sister and they had gone to the mall together. When the BBBS person asked Sammi what she wanted to do with her Big Sister, she said she wanted to go the mall and she wanted to ride a horse. I groaned inwardly, anyone who knew me knew the mall was the last place you’d ever find me! And, I didn’t own a horse or know of anyone who had a horse. Not that I would mind riding one, but of all the wonderful things I thought we might do, these were not even on the list. Oh, my, what was I going to do?

Neither of us remember what we did the first time out. But, from the beginning we found things to talk about and when we didn’t have anything to talk about we sang. And, I needn’t have worried, we found a lot of things to do together. It took a couple years before we made it to the mall. We went for her birthday to Build-A-Bear, where I watched magic happen right before my eyes as a stuffed bear took on a whole life and meaning for a little girl. Over the years we cooked lots of chicken nuggets with Sammi’s special sauce. We baked cookies and cakes and even Julia Child’s Chocolate Mousse. We made lots of Christmas presents and valentines. We made things with clay, we sewed, we painted, we went to the movies, ice-skated, paddled kayaks and a canoe, rafted, camped, and tubed at Bogus. We went to Roaring Springs, the Discovery Center, the Library Book Sale and Boise Little Theater. There are lots of stories of adventures that worked and some that were big flops, which, of course, make the best stories.

When people find out I have a Little Sister, they always say that I’m sure to have had a huge impact on her life. It makes me squirm. I started out wanting to make an impact, but how does one gauge what impact you have? What I know for sure is the impact she has had on my life. Samantha is an extraordinary young lady. She has always had such a great sense of self. She has always been kind and compassionate and honest and loyal. Most importantly, she is a wonderful friend and, fortunately for me, she is my friend.

There is one story that must be told about Sammi; it’s one of my favorites. She was about eight or nine and we were in the car when she said, “Did you know there are people who don’t believe that Santa is real?” I said, “Really?” She said that some kids told her there was no Santa. “But, I don’t believe them, “ she said firmly, “I know there is a Santa.” I asked, “Really, how do you know?” She said, “Well, last year there was this doll I really, really wanted. My mom looked all over town and couldn’t find it. There wasn’t one store in all of Boise that had that doll. But, when I went downstairs on Christmas morning, guess what was there? That doll was sitting in the chair. And, there was a note on it that said, ‘To Samantha, From Santa’.” There was a silence, then I said, “Wow!” She crossed her arms and leaned back in the seat and said, “Yep, I know he’s real.”

So, there you go folks, irrefutable proof that there is a Santa, and one of many precious moments with my Little Sister.

New Rudolph series...

2010-12-17T21:18:00.000-08:00

Years ago I was made a wish to have my own series or "line" of stuff. I didn't count Xmas cards at the time because I didn't think of them as "real" art. I had fallen into the same kind of thinking that Henrì Damier and, even, Rockwell, had: thinking that "real" art couldn't be commercial art. I have revised my thinking and don't even care what my professors in college think. Like my original Edna said, "To hell with content, these things sell."

So, here is my new Art. I'm so excited about them. I just love how they look, the colors, the layout and their personalities. Sometimes you make something and the muses smile on you; this is one of those times. Thank you to my sweet Secret Santa recipient who loves Rudolph ornaments on her tree. She inspired me to make these. The ornaments on the top were my gift to her.

Christmas Elf's Studio

2010-12-16T09:56:00.000-08:00

This is the way a studio should look: like something's happening in it, even if it is just Christmas presents!

I know the mess to put up Christmas decorations is almost more than you can bear. But, honestly, isn't like Christmas opening all those boxes and being reminded what you have stored away? It's worth the final outcome of having your favorite things to look at and lots of lights!

And, one more bonus!!!! Christmas cards season is officially over! Hooray!!! A deep thank you to all my customers who decided in November, "Damn it, I know the economy is bad, but I'm going to send my customers a Christmas card!"

On to more parties and the final race to finish making 10 __________ by the 21st! This is what December was made for! :)

Secret Santas

2010-12-16T09:38:00.000-08:00

Secret Santas–I LOVE THEM!!! It is truly my Christmas gift to myself. First, there is the part of giving to someone else. I got the name of my person and I thought about her all month. Thinking, planning, rejecting ideas, getting new ideas, but always thinking happy thoughts about her and sending her smiles everyday for a whole month. Second, there is the receiving part. Just the thought that someone else is thinking of me and planning for me and sending me smiles for a whole month makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

It is a lovely tradition (we've done it twice, that makes it a tradition, doesn't it?). A bunch of women who are used to doing, doing, doing and giving, giving, giving, especially at this time of year, have a moment where someone gives and does for them. Lovely!!!

Christmas Concert

2010-12-15T05:49:00.000-08:00

So, the instruments are sitting idle, now. But, what a racket they made Saturday night. My sister and her husband hosted the best party of the year! They had a Christmas Concert where the guests were asked to perform. There were readings of favorite stories and poems, soloists, a choir, there were bongo drums, saxaphones, flutes, piano, and guitars. Of course, there was food and drink and even a fire which warmed up the back patio and made everything cozy while it rained cats and dogs. I wish I had taken photos through the evening, but I was too busy savoring every moment.

There were three sets of performances with a break in between each set. What touched my heart was how everyone came back for each set and gave each performer their undivided attention.

Did I perform? You bet! I think the practicing was the most fun. My sister, her husband and my husband and I got together once a week for 5 weeks to practice. During one practice of Auld Lang Syne, Lee said, "That would sound great with a flute." Unfortunately, our flute player, Lori was playing the piano. I thought for a moment and then said, "What the heck! I'll give it a try." I spent the next month reminding myself how to play the flute after not playing since high school (a very long time ago). And, my bongo drums....you can't have more fun than playing drums!

How do you tell if you've had a successful house concert? No one goes home when the music ends and everyone starts their conversations with, "Next year......"

Coming down the homestretch...

2010-12-05T07:13:00.001-08:00

Be patient with me, we're coming down the home stretch. Approximately 10 more days and I will have completed another season of selling Christmas cards. This is the hard part: I have short-timers because I know I'm almost done. Here's the rub as the Bard says, energy begets energy and from September to Christmas I am filled with all kinds of ideas and plans. But, because there is so much going on I don't have the time or energy to try anything. The last order came in on Dec 16 last year and from then until the 25th, or until I have to give the gifts, I try to make and assemble whatever gifts I'm giving. I always think I'll start in April, but I have never in my life done that. I think deep inside I like the challenge of making a dozen or so presents in 36 hours, especially if it is something I've never done before. Sometimes my ideas are vague and nebulous and I spend 36 hours just figuring out what exactly I'm doing! Anyway, it's that time of year. I'm thankful to have the business, thankful to have parties to go to, thankful to have friends and family to give gifts to and crazy because I'm trying to do it all at the same time.

So, stay tuned! I have some great ideas (a couple are not even vague or nebulous) and as soon as I get the last card printed I get to jump into Christmas!

Blessed on Thanksgiving

2010-11-27T07:31:00.000-08:00

When asked how he is, I have a friend who answers, "Blessed!" It is how I would have to answer the question today. It's snowing; we are sipping coffee and tea in our warm fleece after sleeping under a down comforter. I have good work in a business that is almost always delightful and actually pays the bills. I am fortunate to have good work in the form of creativity that pays me in my soul. I have a husband who has new music in his heart and has opened my heart to new music. I have good health that allows me to run along a beautiful river that is home to all kinds of inhabitants that fill me with wonder. I have good friends and family who are always ready for the next crazy idea and always fill it with laughter and fun. I have friends ready with hugs for the next tears. How am I? Truly blessed!

First Snow 2010

2010-11-21T10:52:00.000-08:00

IT'S SNOWING!
The best holiday decoration you can get and completely natural. Turn on the Christmas music, heat up the apple cider, pull up a quilt and a good book.

So, here's the reality at my house: we have emptied the living/dining area of all furniture and Lee is cleaning the carpet. I do have Christmas music playing (you can get 24/7 Xmas music on itunes without a lot of annoying commercials), but I am working away, printing and shipping Christmas cards and making notes on what needs to be done for Thanksgiving and flipping the page on the To-Do list for the ever-growing ideas for presents and decorations to make for Christmas. It's still cozy and I still get to sip warm apple cider.

This is my favorite time of year!!!!

Thanksgiving Preparations

2010-11-19T07:16:00.000-08:00

There is a bustle and a hum in the air as we ramp up for the holidays. Thanksgiving is first with the annual Grand Orphan Feast. There is a committee for placecards, decorations, ironing, napkins, and, of course, discussion and organization of the FOOD!

The Decoration Committee headed by our very capable Chairwoman of Decorations, met last night to make the table decorations. After pizza, salad, a little wine :), and the communion of eating chocolate ice cream out of the carton, we got to work. These photos don't do our finished product justice. You will have to wait for the real photographer on the real day. Take it from me, they are beautiful. The best thing was most of the material used was grown in our gardens or picked when we were camping along the Snake River.

The turkey is a more respectable and noble bird and withal an original American native. B. Franklin

And, I think I have made it a full year of blogging because I'm pretty sure I posted the turkey painting last year. But, here he is again in all his splendor along with some gourds that lights inside them and some leaves I picked up on a recent bike ride.

Not a lot of time....

2010-11-15T18:06:00.000-08:00

Thankfully, the card orders have started to come in and I am catching up to last year. Unfortunately, my printer only prints some of the cards and those are not the ones that I have orders for. Thankfully, the printer tech dudes are very smart and dedicated and I think we'll be back in the printing business tomorrow.

New art will happen sometime really soon! :)

Another "0"

2010-11-07T19:00:00.000-08:00

Is it just my age or are there a lot of "0" birthdays happening? This one was one of my sisters; she turned "60"! How did that happen? And, as she reminded me, I'm next in line. We had a lovely time at brunch with 4 sisters and another "sister", Cousin Marilynn. Lots of laughing, a few tears, coffee, tea, hot chocolate and mimosas for a toast. Here is the birthday girl's 'mug-shot':


Believes in Herbs Lives to Dance

The Shower

2010-10-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

Remember the shower that I found the cute pattern to make those really cute flip-flop wine glass coasters? Well, I finally got the photos whipped into shape from that shower. The bride-to-be has already been the bride and is now a married woman. Fortunately, I am not so behind that she has already given birth to and raised 2 children. :)

The shower was wonderful. Our hostess had the perfect house and garden for such an occasion. It was all spiffed up and decorated, even the garden and patio. Here are just a few of the cute things that made the day special:

Our bride-to-be LOVES shoes, so we bought pairs of black dress shoes for a man and woman and filled them with Spanish moss, baby breath and yellow and white daisies and added a little sign that said "Amber & Ben - Soul Mates." Cute!
The party favors were little silver high heels that are also bottle openers. Cute!
Everyone decorated their own flip-flop wine coasters and then left them for our bride-to-be. Cute!
We drank Mimosas! Very, very, cute!
The bride-to-be's niece was the ultimate in CUTE!
Included with the shower gifts, we each gave a pair of fancy, sexy, or demure (fancy word for Grandma) panties. (Just to set the record straight: I gave a sexy little, keyword here, little, thong that had bling-bling on them, not the grandma panties.) Cute!
It was a lovely day, a lovely bride-to-be and I got the killer recipe for Jalapeno Margaritas! Cute, cute, cute!

Snakes, apples and a quilt

2010-10-04T13:25:00.000-07:00

So, what in the world can those three things have in common? Not much, just that they've come together at my house at the same time. I guess you could call them the signs that Fall has arrived.

The snakes, first. Okay, so I have to say that I'm not a huge fan of Martha Stewart. She continues to get rich from all the things she shows us how to do, so someone likes her. But, I received her magazine because my very favorite magazine, Mary Englebreit's Home Companion, closed down. I thumb through Martha's mag looking at pictures and occasionally trying her recipes, which I always promise myself I will never do again as they all seem to take 25 pans and 5 hours for a "quick and easy" meal. But, I loved this idea. Her's, of course, looked differently. I only had purple spray paint for my grapevine wreath and I could only find small snakes; although, I did find cool rubber spiders. But, I love this wreath. Everytime I come through the front door it makes me smile.

You remember the 30 pints of applesauce my husband and I made? Well, the apples keep coming. I think the two trees heard us talking when husband announced since we didn't care how many apples we got we didn't need to prune the apple trees each spring. Hooray! And, then, they watched as we cut another apple tree and the cherry tree down. Neither were doing well or were healthy, so we decided to get rid of them. The apple trees left, panicked and got to work. We have never had an apple crop like this. After the applesauce we made, I tried to overlook the apples falling to the ground. I kept telling myself the birds and squirrels needed the apples. But, guilt won out and I picked 18 more pounds and spent a day cutting them up. I made 6 pints of apple butter (a friend calls apple butter glorified applesauce...he probably is right, although this apple butter is absolutely the most delicious I've ever tasted!). I also made 6 pints of apple jelly and I have enough juice left over and have started to cook more apples and some rhubarb down for one more batch of jelly. At least, I think it will be one more batch....this could go on and on...a little more juice leftover, find something else to mix with it so as not to waste any juice, etc., etc., etc.

Oh, yes, I forgot. I picked a bunch of garlic chives to make Garlic Chive Vinegar. I've used all I had and I had the white wine vinegar on hand, so in 6 weeks I'll have another supply of my favorite vinegar.

And, last but not least, my new vintage quilt. The bad thing about Etsy is the good thing about Etsy: there are a lot of cool things on sale there, one being vintage quilts. Now, I'm not ready to say I have a "collection" (how many of something do you have to have before you have to admit you are a collector?), but I am so attracted to these old quilts. They are not old enough to be antique and they are not in pristine shape. But, someone spent their precious time to make them and I just love them. So, I promised myself that when I had sold enough Baby Books, I could by this quilt if it was still available. It arrived today. :) It is made from flour sack fabric. It's isn't very big, a bit smaller than a twin size. But, it is in fairly good shape and I love all the colors and that it was hand-pieced and hand-quilted.

ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

2010-09-28T15:16:00.000-07:00

Just in case you missed it through email or on Facebook, my book entitled "The Baby From The Land Of Before You Were Born" is posted on Etsy and our own website: www.waltonlasergraphics.com

I am so excited; it has been a long process. When I first wrote it I had in mind my niece when she was a baby. But, then she had her daughter, Miss Sophia, and this little girl had these beautiful, kissable, round cheeks and the baby in the book just didn't seem to fit anymore. So, it was back to the drawing board to make kissable cheeks on The Baby From The Land Of Before You Were Born.

Then, there was this very long, learning curve on how to create a video that would show the illustrations while I read the story in the background. An even longer learning curve came when I tried to load the video into our web page. Remember when the web page for Christmas cards crashed? Yes, that was why. So, after I bought updated software (how come you can't keep using software you purchased in 2000?). And, then, voilà! the website worked, my book page worked, the Etsy page worked! You can go to either of the links below:
www.waltonlsergraphics.com (scroll to the bottom of the page and click on the baby with the pacifier)
or
www.etsy.com/shop/cindiwalton

More Birthdays!

2010-09-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

I know of at least 17 birthdays that fall in September. Nine of them are in my family (two people don't celebrate anymore, they died; that's the problem with not celebrating your birthday, you know). Interestingly, the two who died were my great Aunt Lee and my Uncle Glenn, they both shared my birthday. Anyway, it is a busy month of sending off presents, cards, emails and making phone cards.

Two of my friends celebrated "0" birthdays: a big 4-0 and a bigger 5-0. I tried to commemorate their birthdays with something from my studio.

The first one was a 40th birthday for my friend who has given up eating foods with preservatives. She has a blog at catanova.blogspot.com
She talks about a lot of things, including the trials and tribulations of living in a world of preservatives while she also tries to grow and cook her own delicious non-preservative food. Check it out, it is always entertaining. I wanted her to feel comfortable with the non-preservative wine we gave her.

The 50th birthday was another close friend who was a barrel racer and with the help of another former barrel racer friend we made the theme of the party "The Last Go 'Round." If you're rodeo folk you know that the last go 'round is not the end. It means you've made to the finals and you have a chance to win BIG! What a great theme for entering your 50s!

And, following a new tradition for a 50th celebration, I wrote a 6-word tribute to my friend:

Loving Loyal Laughter Defines Cowgirl Up!

Xmas Cards for Equipment People

2010-09-25T16:39:00.000-07:00

Ah-h-h, September! Leaves changing colors, crisp mornings, big harvest moons, apples and Christmas cards! Yes, that's right, it's that time of year around here. Time to sell Christmas cards. I had a hard time getting motivated and coming up with new ideas this year. But, after that slow start I think I have a good offering for equipment people. I did 15 new designs this year and reworked 3 of our old cards. Here are just a few of my favorites: