Ornamental

Sail Away

i'd like to drive the 90 minutes to the spot where i took this photograph some 18 months ago, and climb into the canoe with aspen in tow (some balancing act that would be) and drift out into the morning mist, maybe never to come back to the place where we had left.  i want to hide, and take him with me.  problem is, trouble would follow us, deep inside of him, inside of me.  but for a little while, the water and the mist would give us peace, and lack of electricity and phone would prove to be a lovely thing.

i guess you're guessing that my news from the vet was not good.  and you would be right.

nor has any other news this week been what i wanted it to be.

i thought i had found the perfect house for me, little ol' me, and for aspen, and sometimes for the boys (for roy this summer, and for both boys on holidays), deep in the heart of west asheville.  a dear little recently renovated bungalow, with a sweet front porch, lots of windows, a fireplace, a basement for the studio, hardwood floors, open kitchen, soft green walls, you name it.  but the support i was hoping for fell through, and i am realizing i won't have any of that support, nay, encouragement, for any house, unless i myself scrape two dimes together on my own.  this is crushing to me, and i've had to spend this week questioning all sorts of values and beliefs.  life just is not fair.  my dog should not be sick.  i should be able to have a house of my own, in a vibrant, artistic community where i won't feel like a gasping fish flopping around out of water.

i appreciate all of your many words of encouragement - your emails, your comments - that you've given me these past few days.  i'm not sure what aspen's outcome will be.  my ultimate decision to have the large tumor removed actually aggravated the situation, damn it, although the vet has emphasized to a moaning me over the phone that we agreed it needed to be removed.  of course, i'm blaming myself.  wouldn't you?  he continues to bleed, internally, and we'll continue to dose him with steroids, among a string of other medicinals.  i'm rather stunned at this point.  it's wednesday, isn't it?  it feels like friday - it can't be just the middle of the week.  i'm worn out, with no work to show for it.

at any rate, i hesitated once again to post such a downtrodden note, but knew you'd want an update on the old pup.  he seems to be feeling alright - just a bit low on energy.  the weather here - quite grey, with rollicking thunderstorms - does not help the mood.

sunday morning i ordered jane siberry's "When I Was a Boy" cd, which features the haunting, achingly lovely song "calling all angels" (backed up by k.d. lang) - i recently heard this again when watching the 5th season (i'm addicted) of six feet under, and now am sorry i opted for the slow-as-molasses free amazon shipping.  it is time for new tunes in this household, not that this cd is new - it dates back to 1993...

aspen would like to thank everyone for their kind wishes for his speedy recovery, and sends you all a tasty dog biscuit for your being so dear.  "U R Swell", says he.  xoxo

long days

these are

long days,

my friends...

tough times,

quiet stretches

solitary spells

and feeling like

i can't lean heavily on anyone.

the clouds will pass, but o the loneliness the moments bring.

a dog's life

for those of you who've not had the pleasure, this is my beloved pal aspen.  he is going on 13 years of adolescent joyeous living.  he is, as you can see, rotten to the bones, oblivious to the fact that he is a (shhhhhhhh) d-o-g, and i can't picture life without him.  some mornings i wake up with him lying in the bed beside me, head on the ither pillow, body pressed to mine.  yep, i live with no other adult, you guessed it, and wonder what sir Himself would do, should someone ever move in (at 13, i'm guessing that won't pose a problem??).  aspen's signal for bed is my picking up a book and turning back the covers; POP,  he's there.  they don't call them springer spaniels for nuthin'.

i've always thought his name was poorly suited for him - and that his ears lent him a "sir walter raleigh" look, (hence, i'd name him walter, or floyd, or ralph) rather like those ill-fitted powdered wigs the courtly gentlemen used to wear, back in the day.  but, aspen adopted us, back when he was but a pupperly 2 years old, and has been with us ever since.  so, aspen it is, although he answers to "goob" more often than not.  a true people lover, he is happiest when flanked by any, young and old, loud or quiet, gentle or wild.  he loves them all.

i took aspen in for an exam thursday morning, before heading over to asheville for a meeting with my real estate friend, sue.  he has had a tumor on his belly for a couple of years now that has quickly grown in size, and was becoming somewhat of a nuisance.  after an xray on thursday, the vet decided to fit him in for surgery friday morning.  huh?!

yesterday was a nightmare of a day.  i dropped him off, rather guiltily (and, needless to say, with a lump in my throat) at the vet's at 8am as very dark thunderstorms began ominiously brewing on the veritable horizon (and here in the mountains, that horizon is a crooked one!).  i barely made it back home before the bottom fell out.  out here in the boonies i am forced to rely on a wretched dial-up connection (it's amazing that i still have any hair on this head) and spent the morning trying vainly to deal with various deadlines facing me.  ah, no.  not in the cards.  i am not exaggerating this for the sake of drama when i say that the online connection (no names mentioned here) cut off all morning long every two or three minutes, and at one point i visualized unplugging the computer, marching with the whole contraption over to the side of the deck and tossing it with great verve and flair over the edge.  no.  that action would have been lost without an audience, and besides - i can't afford to buy a new one, anyway.  i've learned that lession before, with smaller things like portable phones...and to this day i can say in all honesty that it gave me great pleasure to see the thing, after three attempts, go smashing into a million little plastic pieces all over the kitchen floor.  really!

where was i? ah.  the computer.  uploading photos.  faxing!  in the middle of receiving a very important business fax, something i was supposed to sign and then fax in return, my machine ran out of paper.  yes.  out.  of.  paper.  and when i run out of paper in whittier, north carolina, that means having to drive to the walmart in sylva, north carolina, which is a good 25 minutes one way. 

you are getting my point about the day.

my vet called at noon to let me know that aspen had come through the anesthesia with flying colors.  but, she said - "um, i didn't like the way the tumor looked, and wasn't able to get all of it.  so i think..." CRACK.  and the phone went dead.  noooooooooo! 

short story long, i went to pick up aspen at 4.  they are running a biopsy, and we will hear results by wednesday.

aspen bled all over kingdom come yesterday afternoon and evening.  with the kindness of my neighbor's saintly nephew tommy, who came down to help this one panicked gal, i was able to salvage the rest of what could have been one worthless day.  aspen ended up looking like a matador, in his red bandage that wrapped all the way around his waist, as would a cummerbund.  dashing fellow, that aspen (or goober, if you must).  i ended up spreading blankets and old towels all over the bedroom floor, and hoped i wouldn't find a disastrous mess in the morning....(it was only a minor mess)...

                                                       wish him well, would you?

i'll close with an image of some dogwood blossoms that are blooming right outside our front door, just above the drive....the surest signs of promise, of hope, of the lovely spring that is embracing us here in the mountains.  xo

under a lucky star

i have a very precious friend who has wished upon a star for me.  aren't i the lucky one, indeed?  i know not of the wish.  nor am i to ask, for that would disconnect the wish, and set it loose from its charted course.  but oh, how lovely to know that my wish has been set on its way, a wish just for me, my very own blessing set up in the cosmos, its wheels turning even now as we write and read.  how marvelous!  how divine.  i won't be able to look up into the dark sky tonight, i don't believe, because we've been descended upon here by rumbling, tumbling thunderstorms and smattering rain that is pelting the windows and leaving me to scramble for the lights in the middle of the day.  my plans were cancelled.  plans!  i had plans.  but maybe this was part of the grander scheme, and maybe that wish is already in motion, and maybe, just maybe, i should sit back and relax and let the universe do its wonderous thing.

the time has come for me to begin thinking actively (and creatively) about making the physical move to the very artistic, lively city of asheville, north carolina, an hour's drive northeast of where we currently live.  i've put this off forever, wanting to wait until both boys were finished with their years of high school; and now that roy will be graduating in the beginning of june, the time is now.  yikes.  i loathe moving, detest it, find it one of the things at the bottom of my awful, horrible list.  being a homebody, one who sets up her nest and settles in quite deeply there, makes it that much harder to pull up "roots" (nonexistent ones) and relocate to another spot.  i did it last year, with a breaking heart, from a house i had dearly loved for five wonderful years.  it was a rental house, had come to me as if by magic when i literally shouted out to the universe at the top of a mountain - it was the house i wanted, came to me when i needed to move from another rental house that sold out from under me.  alas, the very same thing happened again last year, my efforts to purchase it failed, and move again i did, to another house 15 miles outside of town.  i've lived out in these neverlands for the past year, a bucolic place that has lent many a solitary, albeit serene moment, with earnest mountain views and sweet sounds of the stream down below, as well as a couple of eye-to-eye chats with a bear through the screen door (i know, i know, but he really did seem to wish me no harm); but enough is enough, and it's time to move into my next phase of life.  i'll be 50 come october, have joined the highland craft guild, will be able to meet worlds of other artists in the asheville area, will enjoy seeing tasteful, independent films when they actually come out, on the big screen (how novel!), and go sit at a sidewalk table at my favorite bookstore on sunny afternoons with a book or journal and drink a cup of chai.  i just cannot even fathom the thought.

my plans for today that were altered?  i had set up an appointment for lunch with a real estate agent, sue, with whom i've been back and forth in contact via the grand old email over the past six or eight weeks, but have yet to actually meet.  we were to rendevous at a west asheville pub for lunch, and then look at a few houses she has scouted out for me.  now, mind you, i have no money.  this is all very grandiose of me, rather like a castle in the air concept, but i am going at this like, well - damn it, i am going to make it a reality!  i am.  you watch.  and by saying so here, and now, i am asking you all to confirm it with me as well.  yes!  i am!  and i'm smiling the biggest smile you can imagine as i write this, because i'm excited to know this will become real for me.

my dear friend lesley riley told me some months back about a wonderful website, TUT's adventurer's club, a place that encourages the power of positive thinking, and sends charming, whimsical weekday email messages of positive notes.  yesterday's blew me away:

"I found your new Intergalactic Phone Book listing, nina!!

It wasn't easy. At first I looked under Illuminated, but you weren't there. Then I looked under Faith Healer, Magician and Wild Thing; not there either. You weren't even under Funny Bones. I started to worry.

Then I had an "ah-ha" moment. I looked you up under very, very soon i will soon have my own house in asheville.... Eureka!"

this note made me burst into happy tears.  the timing was incredible. 

so, not for today will i begin my house in asheville quest, because of dark and stormy rain, but tomorrow.  and it will happen, you wait and see.  i'll have that little happy vintage bungalow, the one with the yard and front porch swing, and the bright and cheerful, roomy studio. xo

About the Artist

allow me to introduce my son roy.  he is now 18 2/3 years old, rapidly approaching graduation from high school, come the beginning of june.  sigggggghhhh.  the younger of my two sons, this will signify many things for me, the biggest being an awfully empty nest.  my older son robin flew this nest two mays ago, more or less, and is moving into an apartment in his college town of boone, north carolina, from his dorm room, once he completes his sophomore semester this may.  since he is seldom home now, i cherish the times we are together, and was able to capture this lovely photo of robin yesterday when he woke late in the morning and came upstairs to open - yes - his easter basket goodies, for i do not think they are too old for the bunny to stop his visits.  handsome fellow, that robin.  like his mother, he sometimes doubts himself, his choices, but his heart is so good, so tender, so strong.  i see its sensitive side when he least wants it shown, of course, and that is when my own heart breaks.  he spent his spring break week this year, rather than boozing with friends at a beach side resort, down in gulfport, mississippi doing heavy construction volunteer work for katrina victims and sleeping at night on a cot in a high school gym.  (i'm adding this sentence later:  robin corrected me today and said that the girls slept on the cots in the gym, but the boys slept on the floor in classrooms.  well.)  he came home with no photographs because, he said, he did not want to document those poor people's hardships and pain.  then, he'll turn around, and when i called and asked him if he was coming home for the long holiday weekend, he replied that yes, he needed to pick up his motorcycle to carry back to school.  well, um, honey?  thanks.

so here is my artist son roy diligently at work on his easter egg designs yesterday morning.  i loved taking these photographs!  he was so earnest, so serious, so very willing.  i know that a lot of you blogging folks out there are parents of children much younger than mine - and believe me, it was only yesterday that robin and roy were maybe four and two, i swear to you - and i am guessing that you are afraid the day will come when your little ones will not want to enjoy all the quirky little family traditions you've drummed up throughout the years.  well, look.  just look.  they may wear funky tattered shirts and sport facial hair, they might wait until late easter morning to dye the eggs that were boiled saturday afternoon (well, we waited, roy and i, and robin slept until almost noon, then politely praised our efforts), but they still grin like five year olds at the foil-wrapped chocolate bunnies, the malted milk eggs, the shredded paper grass.  i am to this day gloriously gifted with handmade treasures of art, and with larger (and heavier) heart rocks that they have pocketed and carted from the deepest and farthest corners of the earth.

to see the shape of my hands in roy's, my eyes in robin's, is to see magic handed down from one life to another.  this is the thread that amazes me, this thread that flows through me, to roy, to robin, that will flow through them to their children (should they decide with time to have them).  what magic, then, will they pass on to them?

A Time of Renewal

there is nothing like a drive farther, deeper south to make one aware of the beautiful and amazing transformation our trees go through each and every spring:  i left these beloved north carolina mountains early last saturday morning, noting that the brown silhouettes of  trees against the the sky were naked, still - bare and looking to me as if they should be shivering in the chilly sweater morning air.  aspen and i drove up over the mountain pass in franklin, wound our way down through lower mountain vallies of northern georgia, and began to see the faintest hints of green in the branches there, as if the air itself had a tint to it and colored the mood of the morning hopeful.  farther south we went, and the grasses of the meadows to either side of the highway began to take on a lusher cast, richer, fuller.  the cows looked happy, knee-deep in clover blossoms of crimson.  i'm sure the bees were buzzing.  i even spotted a bluebird, perched high up on a telephone wire overhead.  come to think of it, now that i look back, it was not a sunny day - horrible thunderstorms had been forecast, and i was receiving phone calls from both dora in north carolina and my mother in alabama, concerned about driving conditions.  but the grey skies made all that green tend to glow, i swear, even radiate, the farther south we went (aspen was oblivious, i'm sure - don't they say, whoever "they" are, that dogs are color blind?).  i was astounded by all the different shades of green that flanked the interstate, in different stages of spring from start to finish, and then began to wonder which colors matched certain crayola descriptions.  allow me to list them for you:

fern, shamrock, chartreuse, asparagus, Caribbean green, electric lime (?!), forest green, granny smith apple, mountain meadow,  olive green,  jungle green, pine green,  sea green,  spring green (which, I assure you, is NOT spring green), tropical rainforest, ultra green (borrrrrring),  kiwi, and, finally, my favorite:  inchworm!

the photo on the right is the view from my parents' front door.  all that green!  what i didn't capture, alas, is the abundance of spanish moss draping from the many trees in their seven acres of  "yard".  quite the epitome of  what you'd imagine for southern living, isn't it?

on sunday afternoon, after mama returned from her dear grace church (i slept in, and daddy read the sunday paper), we attacked and tackled the back screened porch with what vim and vigor we could; late march/early april pollen always leaves a stubborn coating that takes quite a strenuous scrubbing and hosing.  the results were worth it, as my parents just about set up camp out on that porch from april through early october.  it is heaven to sit out under the overhead fan, glass of iced tea or wine in hand, and talk or listen to the birds. 

i love the deep south.  hummingbirds are already buzzing and poking about, glancing at anything red in search for something sweet.  i almost thought i smelled mimosa - but thought, naaaaaah.  too early, even for alabama!  but i did hear a horned owl, in the late afternoon, while sitting in one of the wicker chairs there, sipping on some lemonade after an afternoon of browsing through books and enjoying lunch with a childhood friend and my mother, who seemed  spritely and rejuvenated by the presence of  this daughter and the daughter of a much loved, long-gone friend.  "lunch is on me, girls", she brightly declared, and we lingered over iced tea and sandwiches on the patio of  southern homes and gardens (even sounds genteel, doesn't it?) for as long as we could.

i made damned sure to carve out some time, while down in montgomery, to drive out to my father's salvage/wrecking business and visit with him there at "old south wrecking company".  no link for you, no website - daddy has never touched a computer, and never will.  it was a very bittersweet visit for me, as it was the first time i've been back since ben passed (my brother managed the business with daddy).  now it is just daddy there, and albert, a wonderful man who has been a very, very loyal employee for the last 40+ years.  we consider albert family, and he stood there with us as family at the graveside service, tears streaming down his face.  needless to say, my sister and mother and i are very grateful for his company, for his help....while out there, he and daddy and i prowled around and hunted out some wonderful old, long windows to use in construction for jewelry displays in upcoming guild shows (thank you dale and paula, for urging me in this!!!).  it pleases my father to be sharing part of his legacy with his grateful daughter.  i'm pleased to share a part of his beautiful business with you, which i feel very strongly has largely influenced me to be part of who i am today. 

my parents built a house filled with many of the fine findings daddy salvaged from old houses that were destined for demolition when interstate 85 came through montgomery, and he received the bids to tear all those many houses down - so many wonderful details in construction that you just don't see in buildings today, or in anything for that matter (books, toys, clothing, buttons, tools, you name it) as you did in objects made in older times.  the incredible brass hinge, with such fine detailing, that you see there on the right is on the lovely, huge front door of my parents' house, which is shown there on the left.  the leaded window above the door was also found in an old home slated for destruction.

the long stained glass window on the left is actually in my parents' laundry room, facing out to the back yard.  i should be so lucky.  i don't even have a laundry room, but am ever grateful for my washing machine and dryer, i tell you.  the window there on the right is in a quiet upstairs alcove.  i love the faceted jewel "dots" in both of these - amber on the left, ruby red on the right.  the central clear piece on the left there is beveled, as is the rectangular bottom window, which seems to dress up an every day view of what we see outside, as if to say - there!  isn't it lovely when cut and beveled like a jewel, this view of an ordinary day?

but it wasn't an ordinary day.  it was some time with my parents, and i take each moment with them to be a jewel.  they are both getting older, older, older, and daddy in particular is realizing and addressing his mortality, especially now that he has outlived his own son.  life needs to be viewed through beveled windows, does it not?

finally, i wanted to add how dismayed i was to return home yesterday afternoon from being surrounded by all of that wonderful greeeeeeen  and discover that the trees here are still quite naked, making it seem that springtime is dragging her heavy heels for me.  aspen walked into the house and immediately fell onto the floor in a deep and luxurious dog sleep, worn out from his worldly travels (alabama must seem light years from north carolina to him), and i tore into the two boxes that surprised me in the mailbox at the foot of the drive.  what?  mail?  for me?!  my dear misty sent me this wonderful, beautiful, incredible book, such a gorgeous new illustrated book of rumi writings, and i am in love all over again!  go to the link and check it out to see how lovely it is for yourself.  thank you misty!!!!!  then, there was a wonderful box all the way from finland from dear, dear delila, of sepia art studio!  i had ordered one of her beautiful art pieces from her etsy shop, called (fittingly!) "spring", seen there to the right, and the box arrived absolutely overflowing with other goodies as well:  a smart little bird sitting on a nest, and no ordinary bird at that - this little creature is wearing a delila crown that says "birds", and she does look mighty proud of herself, sitting there surrounded by flowers and moss.   then, there were colorful little eggs, and some wonderful moss, and the most wonderful spring-scented incense (green) with a lovely little (green) LEAF incense holder!  all the way from finland, i've had spring sent to me, a leaf to herald in the spring!  it really can't get any better than that, the lovely rumi book, the bird and nest, the incense and leaf holder - i was grinning as proudly as a little girl at christmas.  thanks, gals.  i love you all so much, you bloggers out there!  you are a kind and loving and generous circle of pals, and i treasure you with all of my overwhelmed heart.

i wish you a happy easter weekend....my sons will both be home tomorrow - roy, from mexico and robin, from college in boone.  we don't celebrate easter the traditional way, but in a springly, looking ahead way i guess i could say.  so, i'm raising my cup and wishing you all trees filled to a frothy lacy green (and i've just thought of a new color for those crayola folks - green tea!) xo

Birds Are Singing (Artfest, part 2)

  it's been a slow, sleepy week here on firefly road, one in which i've spent the days aimlessly wandering the rooms of the house, staying in pajamas until (i'm ashamed to admit) well after the clock hands click past twelve o'clock (and i'm talking about high noon, when the sun is brightly shining, not the darkest of midnight, when most sane folks are tucked into bed, or at least curled cozily into a chair with a favorite book and a crocheted blanket, eyes devouring line after line of a page).  my inner schedule is waaaay off base - why does it get harder each year for me to adjust from east to west to east coast time, especially with the added confusion of daylight savings?!  but today the birds are singing, as declared by the card misty made for me to the left.  i believe she has changed her new blog banner to the same wonderful cherry blossoms - go check for yourself at misty eyed art, where she has a beautiful new post-artfest work of art displayed.  myself, i've yet to make it into the studio - i haven't even begun to unpack my suitcases or do laundry, which will be necessary no later than this evening:  i'm hitting the road, yet again, this time headed for alabama with trusty pal aspen, to visit with my folks for a few days.  perhaps i can take pliers and wire and beadwork and mica with me?!  as for roy, he and his friends (with a friend's mom, mind you) are headed for the sandy beaches of cancun, dear lord, and the boy is beside himself with excitement.  grimace.  he can have cancun,  but i'm happy for him, anyway.

i've loaded my mica house village students' work into the Treasures Photo Album, if you'll look down to the left there - simply click on the image and it will take you to the album, and you'll be able to view their incredible work.  phyllis, dear one - you need to finish your houses so we can get them on the site!!!  the house on the right there is a splendid, dreamy one created by student cassondra, an amazingly talented gal who somehow managed to suspend the little bird's nest from the inside peak of the roof.  now, keep in mind that these structures can be partially disassembled (walls from rooftop) and folded flat for travel and storage - that is another part of their beauty.  i'd be interested to see how the nest comes undone. 

too, i'm asking my sheer beauty students to send 72 resolution jpg images to me so i can show off your work as well!!!  i'm proud of you!!   i saw misty's, and phyllis's, and celine's (who is off in colorado teaching classes and visiting friend sarah fishburn before heading home to france), but because they were not finished in class, did not manage to get photographs of the pieces, alas.  lovely, lovely work, everyone!!!  maija, lesley, this means you guys too!

the tiny "tree houses" to the left are my own construction; on the second day of this two-day class, i stepped outside the building (204) to see what twigs i could forage from the ground, and was thrilled to find a magnificent branch that had fallen with the previous night's rain (scout's honor!).  i'm not sure what the beautiful, tall trees are outside the buildings that are planted in a row - poplar?  but they have long, upreaching finger-like twiggy branches that made a perfect display for the two tiny little mica houses i had made for samples.  diane culhane and i had made a lovely connection with one another this year - such a delightful woman! - and when she saw the branch piece at gallery night, asked if we could make a trade.  noooooooo problem!  here is another of her incredibly powerful, intoxicating pieces that i fortunately was able to nab very early vendor night before the doors opened and the madness descended:   

her work brings out an aching, blissful emotion in me - one that summons deep tears, most definitely, and i imagine this piece to be my new and future neighborhood in asheville, and perhaps that is me to the right, flying high with a new friend, high into the orange sky, light as feathers, without cares, without fears, able to touch the stars and the moon and the sun without ever burning ourselves.  of course i had to have that piece of art, because i felt that it was MINE.  and i know you've all had that feeling, many times over.  this time i got to carry it off in my own lucky arms, for real.

more lovely artfest memories in imagery here - i have photographed these trees  at that stretch before the open grassy field, next to the bluff, every single year because they are absolutely stunning to me.  i'm sure each photograph looks the same to those who view them, but to me they represent the years, and the emotions behind the years...and i'm reminded here of a scene from the wonderful movie smoke, where harvey keitel's character auggie takes a photograph every single day of his street corner in brooklyn.  he notices the subtle nuances, the changes in the light, the gait of certain people walking by.  i feel that way about these beautiful trees, and cannot keep myself from stopping on the sidewalk at least once each year to take yet another photograph of their beautiful, unchanging (or or they changing ever so slowly?  am i changing?) power.

well.  these pictures need no explanation, really.   keith (lobue, but surely you all know that by now) was mighty proud of that kilt (come on, i'm dying to call it a skirt!!!!!!!!), and i'm sure he obtained it from some far-flung, authentically  cool place like australia, but to this southern mountain gal it sure did look like a carhardt farmwear line...he was obliging for the one photo to the left, but ran for shelter under a table for the second photo, to the right.  i love the look of confusion on amy's face there.  poor keith.  damned paparazzi!!!  keith and his lovely gal back in australia are excitedly expecting twins in the next coming months, so life will be getting even busier for them quite soon...meanwhile he is off to teach this week/weekend at the lovely, wonderful valley ridge art studio in wisconsin - much fun.  (i'll be returning there, for the third year, this july/august - lucky me! )

finally - my photo of the lonely little bird in the cincinnati airport.  i was amazed to see it hopping about from seat to seat, then flying up into the higher windows up above and chirping its little heart out...and amazed even more that i seemed to be the only one noticing its tiny little cheerful (not desperate?!) presence.  you can see its little brown blurry presence there in the lower left of the photo (sorry for the poor quality);  it helped to make my dreary 6:30-8:30am time in that airport pass more quickly.   "birds are singing", indeed. 

well.  another artfest has come and gone, but its spirit stays with us still.  i've enjoyed reading everyone else's postings - and am grateful for the wonder of the internet, so that we're able to make these incredible connections with one another, to be in touch long after we've physically left the grounds of fort worden.  stay in touch.  i'm always here. xo

where do i begin?! (artfest2006, part 1)

well, i'll begin with my grand new shoes, since they garnered so danged much attention once i purchased them (first day we were there, in port townsend, at a lovely shop called about time - sorry, no website - but here is the site for the maker).  lovely, yes?  i blame claudine, my partner in crime and treasured travelling cohort for the week (thank you, claudine!  i miss you! xo), for pointing them out to me in the shop.  everyone says they remind them of limes, and sure, they do.  margaritas, anyone?  i love this green so much - and am realizing now that it must be a favorite color of mine, that and the softer version of it, since it shows up regularly in my wardrobe and artwork.  who knew?!

well.  my trip.  where to begin?  i begin here, i guess, before the shoes:  the wonderful, lovely, generous, dear miss lisa bias picked me up at the seattle airport last tuesday morning (i left my house at 3am, drove to asheville, left the ground at 6:20am, landed there at 10 their time - a three hour difference, but a 4 1/2 hour flight that passed quite quickly from reading teesha moore's art and life zine, a nice prelude to the upcoming festivities.  lisa was prompt in picking me up, had goodies for me to boot, a big hug (in that little body of hers) and a wide grin.  bless her heart, she and her lovely childhood pal mary drove me all the way to the mulkilteo ferry (where nazis operate the boat, i swear), where i had to literally run with my two wheeled suitcases to get onto the ferry - being the last one on, i was met with glowering, frowning stares, was blatantly ignored when i asked where i should go; and when i finally out of exasperation pleaded for directions to the elevator, i was told it was out of order.  they lied.  lied!  idiot that i am, i took their word to be the truth, stood in the freezing wind among the cars with my luggage like a wayward waif (sounds worse than it was, truly, for it was thankfully a short trip over to whidby island) then noticed passengers walking out of an open elevator door there at the end of the ride.  i felt like i had a bumper sticker plastered across my forehead that said "be mean and hateful to me"; but then, of course i did:  i was hauling two suitcases by foot and was obviously not from around 'those parts'.   well!  see if we treat OUR ferry visitors that way down here!!!!! (we don't have ferries in the mountains that i know of, but if we did, i'd be serving a steaming cup of tea and cookies over in a warm corner and asking how someone's trip had been thus far.....)  thankfully, claudine was not far behind in picking me up on the receiving end, had a banana for immediate consumption, and off we went on our adventure! 

our first day was devoted mostly to settling in - to comforts - small things, really, like food and a place to rest our heads.  oh, and the purchase of socks - lots of socks.  colorful ones, that when balled up in a drawer take on the look of easter eggs.  always a priority when coming to port townsend, it was first on my list of things to do, and claudine was very good about honoring my request :)  too, i forgot to mention our encounter with a bald eagle while still on whidby island.  you northwestern folks may not think this is such a big deal, but to those of us who haven't ever spotted one up close, it is a startling and beautiful thing, and evoked a surprising string of colorful descriptions out of claudine's mouth as soon as she spotted it right beside our car at the cliff in coupeville (as in a sudden, "that's a %#@**# %# eagle!!!").  it was a hallmark moment to remember....

above is our view from the hotel room in port townsend - lovely!  dinner was sushi, very delicious, and i crashed and burned at 9pm while claudine posted one last time to her blog while she still had access to computer hook-up.  i remember talking in my sleep about a big red lincoln town car, before claudine turned out the lights.  we laughed, me still asleep, and that was that.  some scenes from our morning/early afternoon in port townsend:  miss claudine being silly and lovely (always), with the side of a building painting, and an odd little "awesome" drawing.

it was fun to relax with a dear friend, to be silly and kick back in the lovely, beautiful little town of port townsend, surrounded by water and fresh air and sunshine, before heading to the complete head rush that is artfest.  all i can compare it to is a flooded river or stream - like jumping in headfirst and going with the flow - or, like trying not to fight an undertow, but swimming, instead, with it.  the energy level, the force, the power, of being there is unimaginable unless you've experienced it firsthand:  on wednesday afternoon you dive in, and don't come up again for air until sunday morning after you pack up your bags, full of the trinkets and gifts that you've gained from your time with friends old and new, and walk out of your room that was home away from home for four nights and three days.  sounds dramatic, and it is.  it is.  artfest is a head trip that, for some, can be a bit too overpowering, too heady; folks leave there weepy, trembling, wide-eyed.  stunned.  i see gals on the ferry sitting in their cars - just sitting.  it's a time of reflection, those hours after, the times when you are first alone after having spent so many hours and days with so many wonderful people, babbling and talking until your voice is hoarse and your eyes are red and your mind is as saturated as an oversoaked sponge.  awesome.  i know no other word for it.  but then, i am again digressing.

thursday morning is always a trip.  as teachers, we have to scramble to eat our breakfasts, then hoof it over to our classrooms, wherever they may be, and unload our boxes and bags of supplies and materials, kits for students, tools for demonstrations, in time for the early birds to begin wandering into the classrooms.  claudine and i managed to drive over to the schoolhouse building as early as 7:20am, and i still found a student's notebook on a second row desk with "reserved and taken" scrawled across the page.  i'm amazed at the tenacity of these folks.  just how early had she been there?!

my first day's class was the "sheer beauty" wallhanging, a lovely project involving transparency imagery and mica, combined with strips of torn fabric, ribbon, charms, words, other imagery.  the students, as usual, amazed me with their diversity and creativity.  i was thrilled, absolutely thrilled, and honored as well, to have my dear cyber friend misty mawn in the class.  i was walking up to the front, to my desk, and realized with a jolt that she had arrived, so i slammed to a stop next to her desk and gave her a long hug.  we have connected, just like that.  we had connected, beforehand, online, through letters, through mailings, but i've had that before and this was different.  i don't know how to explain it, so i won't.  she is a true soulmate, and i'm only sorry that our time together was so abbreviated.  more of misty later, but here she is with her very lovely wallhanging, where she incorporated transparencies of her own artwork.  i'm also very proud to say that she is featured in this current issue of cloth, paper, scissors - a lovely, lovely article she wrote.  do check it out! 

i was thrilled, happy, delighted as well to have my adopted sister celine navarro in the class; we have been in touch with one another, very much, online, especially since she and i both lost siblings within two weeks of one another just a couple of months ago (has it really been that long?!).  so i was greatly looking forward to wrapping my arms around her for a real hug!  here she is (awful of me - i was hot, my eyes are red from exhaustion, but at least we have a photo together!).  i wish i had a photograph of the wallhanging that celine created in the class - simply stunning.  perhaps she'll post it on her blog once she returns from her trip.

AND, i am also very proud to announce, i had the very very talented, dear maija lepore in the class; maija also has a beautiful article in cloth paper scissors this issue, called "a new life", altered cabinet cards.  she is a sweet gal, full of a grand love for life, and lucky me - i was the recipient of one of the beautiful cards featured in the article!  (that's it below).  also, my dear friend lesley riley (whose presence was sorely, sorely missed in port townsend) has a lovely article in CPS as well called "bird dreams:  a mixed-media art quilt" (and i, lucky thing, got a preview.  it is gorgeous.)  also, my friend michael demeng is featured in an artist profile - what a character he is, and quite a talented fella.  glad to know that his bartending days are behind him for days of creating art!  sorry i don't have any photos of  michael -  i can imagine there are scores of female students who DO.

here is my room.  a respite amidst the chaos.  it was a tiny little thing, but had a desk, and since i woke up every morning at 5am (good old east coast timing), i took advantage of that extra time to work on vendor pricing, etc. 

i love that we (lk ludwig, claudine, keely barham, lynne perrella, sas colby) are always placed on the same dorm floor so that we can visit with one another in the afternoons after teaching - otherwise, we'd never have the opportunity to talk and catch up.  it's our one time of the year to have a "reunion", of sorts, and we don't mind the primitive lounging conditions - the wine, cheese, white cheddar popcorn, chocolate and crackers make up for it, along with the view of water, sailboats, twinkling sunset light reflecting on the window glass of buildings far across the water.   this year i had the added pleasure of spending time with the lovely and dear carla sonheim, a very talented artist (painter) who was staying in a room just across the hall from mine.  while we were all sitting visiting the last afternoon, i noticed how lovely the light was on these faces.  look! carla and lynne there on the left, and lk on the right, very tired - and claudine looking very much the part of a young swedish gal.

i  combined the next two days of classes into one two-day class - which for me could have been considered a "kiss of death", as most students at artfest don't want to commit to limiting their choices, but would rather have the most of a smorgasbord experience.  i can't say that i blame them, considering this year's class selections!  but i adored my smaller class students, and was grateful that we each had the time to unwind, spend the time in a relaxed environment creating more detailed art pieces and chatting amongst ourselves like an old-fashioned quilting or sewing group.  here are the gals (back row, then front): ginny, jami, cassandra, donne, and phyllis.   and the doll?  lord, i can't remember her name.  she's bad, that's all i know, and her eyes change colors in the creepiest of ways!  nevertheless, she stayed out of the way until the last day, and behaved herself (for the most part).   i loved these gals.  such troopers!  and on friday afternoon when i needed to swoop on out of there right at 4pm to go set up for vendor night (yikkkkkkkkes), they were good sports about sending me on my way.  here is one photo of the village we all created in two days, there in the classroom, and i'm going to set up a photo album with photos of the individual houses so you can get a better, close-up viewing of them all (incredible!!!!!!!!!  you girls ROCK!)

i have to brag a little bit about phyllis, who is shown setting up the village for the final gallery night , our last night at artfest.    phyllis made the major choice of signing up to take all three days of my classes - quite a commitment for someone who had never taken a class from me before!  apparently she was satisfied, because she will be going to cortona, italy and taking my workshop there in october!!!  yes, phyllis!  wine and bread out on the veranda!!!  thank you for having so much faith in me as a teacher!!!!!!!!

and here we have the infamous michelle neumann (neumannnnnn!), a little bitty smidgen of a gal, larger than life, who took my wallhanging class the first day, and who was very very good at documenting each and every artfest activity with photos of her own.  there needs to be a book like "find waldo", called "find michelle".....she's amazing.....

you all know how much i treasure my time walking along a body of water, searching for stones, for sticks, for bits and pieces of nature that have been left to find as gifts.  last year the weather was so miserable there - rain, wind, bone-chilling cold - that i never made it down there to the water once.  it was a ritual of lk's and mine to meet down there on the first morning, before classes began, and since both of us are east coasters, that had never been a problem.  but this year, we were both running in different directions, on different schedules, assorted agendas, and it never happened.  i finally found myself racing out of class after packing up my tools and supplies saturday afternoon and back to the dorm to throw on my (green) tennis shoes and (green) coat, to stuff baggies into my pockets, camera, gloves, and a beloved orange and pink scarf that lisa had knitted and given to me last year.  oh!  the beach of fort worden...it is such a spiritually lovely place.   the breeze is bracing, fresh, alive.  the light is just so.  the waves were loudly lapping, i guess because of the wind, and i was alone in my slow, deliberate walk.  i always head south - i'm fond of the high sand cliffs that bank the beach there, as sometimes there are deer that flank them, and once there was even a sleeping man among the grasses, high up on the hill.  the world is always full of surprises.  i walked slowly, slowly, taking a step, looking down, being very selective this year in my findings - a smooth pebble here, a lined one there - perhaps selecting a dozen for my pocket, no more.  i didn't want to hoard, you know, for there'll always be next year.  my search was really for a heart shaped rock, to give in return for the one that misty had given me on the first day of class (you can see it there in my hand in the last entry).  and just as i was bending down to pluck one from the sand, a red-hooded figure walked up beside me on that deserted beach, as if conjured up by the strongest wish, and it was  dear misty, there to join me in my special walk.  could that have been any more special?  i think not.  we walked, old friends, old souls, and suddenly as if by magic, beach glass began to appear in the washed up sand at the edge of the water, there for our picking and our picking alone, and the two of us walked along handing it to one another, gifts from the waters of puget sound.  i will remember our time there together, a pocket of beauty and joy, forever.

here are some more random images from the trip.  photos of the buildings of fort worden (it was built as a victorian military base - i once said it was a victorian air force base, go figure) and the grounds and buildings are lovvvvvvely.  i always remember to take my camera, and having a digital one is sheer joy because i can now share those images with all of  you, whoever you are.  and - don't be afraid to comment from time to time.  i had lots and LOTS of folks come up to me while i was there and say they read my blog - i was astounded - because if folks are reading but not commenting, i'll never know that.  let me hear from you and give me some feedback!!

here is a port townsend sidewalk  image to leave you with for now.  there's more, but i'm saturated, as i can imagine you are.  thanks for being there.  x

 

treasures

i'm far too exhausted to post what will take me a good hour or so to describe the wonderful, incredible experience of artfest:  i flew out of seattle at 11:30pm sunday night, returned to asheville at 9:30am yesterday morning after a two hour layover in cincinnati (ugggggggh, how does ANYONE stand that disheveled airport for longer than ten minutes?!  my saving grace was watching a little lost bird flirt with anyone who would listen to him sing as he hopped about from seat to seat - poor thing - no one but myself seemed to take notice at 6:30am), drove the 90 minutes home, collapsed dazed and confused onto the sofa for the duration of yesterday; then got up again this morning, drove back to asheville in my port townsend finest (will show you tomorrow my new shoes!!!) for an allllllll day meeting today of new southern highland guild members.  needless to say, i'm spent. 

the treasures above are the favorites that i carried home with me.  if only we'd had more time on the beach, that last late afternoon, when the wind was blowing and the sun was lastly shining, and we were tired but happy and the magic was there.  misty, you are a treasure and i will be forever grateful our little worlds collided. 

i'll write tomorrow to all of you when my eyes can focus and i can share with you some images and words that will let you know what a wonderful and grand time we all shared.  until then - xo