‘…you can’t know (yes, actually you can–) how wonderful it is to have someone else understand the pathos of the dead winter bees, and why I would honor them:) — I had a hornet in the house for a month this last December. He decided my wrought iron lamp was his home, a kind of hive. So until he passed on I had to approach the couch with great care, just in case he might be sitting there reading the New Yorker…..’
I smiled when I read these words written in an email from my friend Iskra, imagining the splendid hornet curled up with the New Yorker on her couch. The other morning I visited Iskra at her home in Seattle for lunch and was drawn to the delicate cantiga of these merchants of flight, holding my breath in reverence as I released the shutter to take this picture you see above. Having a home by the sea, I know so well the magic and marvel of winged visitors that spin through my windows, drunk on wild cherry nectar and jasmine rain. (singing green in the garden) There is such a final sorrow to their brief lives and small though they be, I feel a lashing storm in my chest whenever I find a collapsed creature on a windowledge, gathering into themselves…pain like this is surprising from such a simple and distant thing. I want to light candles in the cathedrals for each and every one of them.
Iskra’s home and studio (s) are entirely this enthralling ~ I could barely contain myself between our quick and delighted chatter, the bewitching flotsam and jetsam here and there in delicate and holy arrangements ~ her glorious art and endless shelves of books. Heaven, heaven I tell you! You shall see for yourself in a few weeks when I feature her in my new ‘fly on the wall’ series which invites the artist to illuminate their studio’s and art.
I am finally moving out of my writer’s block I am very pleased to say ~ imagine, oh, a leather satchel filled with red arrows about my waist ~ I unleash them with my radiant bow, the sun glinting off my braids while morningbirds spin over blue fields of winter. I feel sooooo fine! Well, perhaps with the exception that there are no pens in my house. How on earth did that happen?!!! So today I am heading out to buy some india ink pens. After I walk up to the organic bakery for a little bag of breakfast buns and put air in my bicycle tires that is.
Well, speaking of writer’s block I have a ‘conversation‘ for you this weekend from a most alluring woman ~ Amanda Ford. which will be my last ‘conversation before launching ‘fly on the wall’ ~ Not that Amanda has writer’s block ~ oh no, as you shall see for yourself she is experiencing nothing of the sort. I am a HUGE fan of Amanda ~ having lunch with her in a few weeks as a matter of fact and let me tell you I can’t wait! I want to ask her if I can borrow this dress.
Last night I had a fitful sleep filled with dreams and fragments of strange moments slipping and tripping and colliding into one another. There was a red hummingbird and a singing whale, melting colors that could be eaten, tiny hollows of confusion with large warm hands trying to reach out for me ~ I leaned in to grasp them and pull them around me but I couldn’t contain their disquiet and I remember scribbling words tenderly on their palms…..the dreams were, oh, interweaving and hugely impressionistic which is not at all how I dream. Usually I have beautiful, compelling dreams gracing a sure narrative underscored with resounding comprehention.
This morning they linger in an unsettling disquiet which I hope to make vanish under the very blue sky of this day. I am making oatmeal pancakes and playing records which is why I posted that photo above. It is a drawer in a record shop filled with 45′s and today I think I will go down to zulu records and see if I can find a few 45′s to add to my fledgling collection. Records are a passion of mine and this morning I am listening to the new Black Dub album on vinyl.
Today there will be binging on lots of dark chocolate (Gufffawww!!!) and the aforementioned oatmeal pancakes (addicting and healthy) and hopefully some new 45′s to pop into my vintage green record box. I am also very excited as this week I am going to Emily Carr to delve into some teaching experience in their continuing education photography classes ~ I feel oddly nervous like a schoolgirl even though teaching is second nature to me especially when it involves my passion for photography. Speaking of photography I scooped up some rolls of the new Kodak portra 400 film for my canon AE1 and will update you on it’s wonderfulness hoping soon:)
I took this photo last week on such a lovely snowy walk ~ there is something so spectacular about fresh fallen snow ~ I felt almost as though I were intruding on the poetic landscapes surrounding me. With a guiding sensual foresight I looked oh so carefully on every branch and then I found this lilting lace of mossy litchen strung on a branch with a delicate and holding seed pod nesting with the rise of the mountains behind it. For some reason it reminds of this fly from the anthropologist which is utterly exquisite.
Today! Oh today on this fine Sunday I present to you my latest ‘conversation’ with my dear friend Brooke Schmidt ~ I promise you will be enthralled with her and in awe of her art ~ she is a true sensualist of nature and I am so tickled to call her my friend.
Thank you to everyone for your patience with my ‘art of living cheerfully’ online course ~ it sold out quickly this week and I appreciate the graciousness of everyone while I sorted out my dates for the next round ~ already I have 15 people enrolled for March and I greatly appreciate it!
wishing you….a generous helping of oatmeal pancakes and strong coffee!
xoxo
maddie
oh! and my puppy turned ten this week ~ ten years old! How I love her so:)
What are you moved to express in your art the most?
The awkwardness and mysteries of life, and how its struggles can be beautiful. How life is a journey of learning. How nature can teach.
what is your earliest artistic memory?
I grew up in the florida woods of sand, pine, and water. Nature was very exciting to me because I never knew what I might see or find. My family camped a lot and we saw tadpoles in the thousands and dragonflies slowly hatching. We canoed and caught tiny turtles and watched alligators breathing bubbles underwater and experienced dawn mists and cold rivers. I saw yellow spiders the size of fifty-cent pieces on evening webs, watched for woodpeckers and always hoped to see a panther. I was in love with nature and still am.
share your creative process
For me this process is mysterious. It’s like not knowing where you’re going but knowing how to get there.
~ Anne Truitt, Daybook~
The little voice is there on my pillow in the morning sunshine when I first wake. It’s there as I’m sipping my tea and making breakfast and walking the dog and cleaning toothpaste out of the sink. On the outside, it may look like I’m efficient and unruffled, but my reality includes that little voice saying, “get into the studio!”
I walked around sipping coffee from my Japanese cup, smelling and smiling and planning. But I would only have been passing the time had I not begun the day with a half hour of work in the studio.
~ Anne Truitt, Turn: A Journal of an Artist
Each time I enter the studio I have to warm up again to the work ~ after a while things start to click and I get curious and see patterns; see things start becoming what they want to be. I want to tell my story as I discover it in my work.
I wish I was better about keeping to a schedule in regards to working. It can take all day for me to get started ~ a side effect of having no boss. I don’t know when it’ll sink in that there will always be that hurdle of avoidance, like the pause before jumping into the lake, and I’d better just go do it quick. Once I’m in the water feels fine, so to speak. And then you can’t get me to come out.
what methods do you use to keep your creativity flowing?
I try to live life in a well-rounded manner, because creativity leaks in from all over ~ I take lots of photos, keep an odds and bobs journal, bake. Reading is incredibly inspiring to me and I overlap books. I thrift-shop, write letters to friends, wear bright colors, haunt garage sales. I walk around the block. I weed the garden, watch a foreign film, paint a room. I travel. To other countries, or around this one. Camping or hiking can inspire me like magic. Sometimes I take a few days off. No one can create all the time.
Often while I’m walking the dog, ideas pour fully finished into my head. It’s definitely a process I’m learn to trust more.
I give myself permission to keep myself happy.
where do you feel most like yourself?
‘I have a fire burning in my study, yellow roses and mimosa on my desk…We are one, the house and I, and I am happy to be alone – time to think, time to be.’
- May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude
share something cherished in your home or studio with us:
This is my rock collection ~ each time I travel I bring one home.
what brings you joy, contentment, happiness?
cobalt skies right before dark, poems, the quiet in the woods, a night sky fuzzy with stars, a half-filled journal, my dogs faces pushing under my elbow, full bookshelves, the minutes before I see if the Polaroid turned out, hand-sewing, a super chat with a dear friend, making a campfire, beeswax, going for a stroll with my husband, thrift-shopping, hummingbirds, weeding, anything wool, writing in airports, turquoise, trains, my travel tea mug, braids, spotting hawks in trees, local honey, hot-air balloons, paperbacks, sunshine, butterfly gardens, growing vegetables and being outdoors
what does the word ‘yes’ mean to you personally?
Yes is a two-faced word that means both scary and happy. To say yes is allowing the unknown to flex. It is allowing deeper feelings and deeper experiences. It is getting to the marrow and the truth of things. Yes involves opposites and grey areas.
what holds you back?
Excessive familiarity with well-trodden paths, a longing for comfort and level footing, a fear of change.
who is your creative role model?
My gramom, Ellie. She inspired in me my love of birds, sewing, and baking ~ of seeing the beauty in simple things, of being thrifty, of going for a walk each day, and of always keeping a little bit of chocolate around.
which books and films inspire you?
books ~
Turn: Journal of an Artist, by Anne Truitt
A New Kind of Country, by Dorothy Gilman
Journey of a Solitude, by May Sarton
The 3,000 Mile Garden, by Leslie Land and Roger Phillips
A Country Year, by Sue Hubbell
My Family and Other Animals, by Gerald Durrell
A Thousand Days in Venice, by Marlena de Blasi
…and anything by Pablo Neruda or Agatha Christie
films ~
Broken English, Manon of the Spring, Rear Window, Volver, Hideous Kinky, The Same River Twice, Bread and Tulips, Gosford Park, Happy-Go-Lucky, Unmistaken Child, L’Avventura.
share your artists toolkit with us ~ favorite supplies, etc:
We always had a lot of flowers, jostling for position among books and paint-boxes, magazines and veterinary medicines, Tilly’s embroidery, Robin’s sketches of machinery, my birds’ eggs, and everybody’s oddments; sometimes they found themselves in tall silver vases or a Chinese porcelain bowl, sometimes in a jam-jar, whichever came first to Tilly’s hand.
~The Flame Trees of Thika, by Elspeth Huxley
what has been your biggest challenge as an artist?
Continuing to work through times when there is a lack of positive outside validation or appreciation for my work. And somedays it’s tough showing up in the studio when there’s only me to meet there, or when I’m bored with my work.
where do you go or what do you do to ‘ground’ yourself or find inner balance and peace?:
what music are you listening to lately?
My recent favorite for around the house is Bob Dylan’s Nashville Skyline, and when I make a travel mix it usually includes songs like this ~
One by One, Billy Bragg and Wilco
Librarian, My Morning Jacket
Beautiful Morning Light, Fruit Bats
Tiger Mountain Peasant Song, Fleet Foxes
Harvest Moon, Neil Young
If Not For You, Bob Dylan
Outta My Head, M. Ward
The Trapeze Swinger, Iron and Wine
Do You Realize?, The Flaming Lips
where has love taken you?
If there were absolutely no obstacles, what would you do tomorrow?
I would rent apartments, one after the other, in major and minor cities of the world and experience living in different cultures, exploring their crafts and histories ~ and I would have tutors in each place to learn the languages.
Amanda is Prosecco and a grapefruit wedge followed by a three-hour kiss and a nap and an urge for a cigarette. She is not the cigarette or the smoker of the cigarette, but the craving for the cigarette.
Amanda is the longing for life and all its raw edges. She is also the longing for transcendence, the longing for God.
Amanda is a telescope that collapses into itself again and again and again until it is small enough to fit in your coat pocket. She is the collection of fake moustaches that Salvador Dali carried around in that little case. She is the lipstick on Oscar Wilde’s grave. She is French silk. She is the speakeasy password in the year 1922.
She is the sound of an F chord falling to an A minor.
Speaking of falling, imagine an October leaf breaking from its branch and twirling to the ground. Amanda is the instant the leaf lets go.
Amanda is a note scribbled in a journal during a dream in the middle of the night, illegible come morning, but resonant with meaning nonetheless. She is the dog-eared corner of your favorite book.
Amanda is bicycle and a hip swivel and if you blink you will miss her so you’d better stay awake because oh my god you’re going to be so sad when she’s gone.
As an artist, what are your favorite ways to express yourself?
I express myself first and foremost with my life. What I create matters less to me – substantially less – than how I live. To walk through this world with eyes and heart and mind open, to remain present to the experiences of my life (all the experiences, not just the happy, joyful, lovely ones), to push my boundaries, illuminate my blind spots and learn and grow, to hold gratitude as my central focus, not to allow the disappointments of life diminish my spirit, not to succumb to fear, to chose love again and again and again and again – these aims are the tools and techniques of my artistic expression. To live in this way is my practice, my craft.
As far as worldly artistic categories go, I am a writer. I describe my writing as a blend of memoir and poetry and philosophical questioning. I write every day. I have written a few books that have been published and translated into several languages and many essays and articles and such. Writing is the way I make sense of the world; it is as necessary to me as breath. I am a writer through and through.
I also take self-portraits. Not because I am egocentric or because I want to be famous or even because I think I am photogenic. I like the intimate things a self-portrait can reveal, a peek into my private world, a look at the way I engage life when nobody is around to affect my mood or make me self-conscious or force me to edit my behavior. My self-portraits are very causal, snapshots really. I don’t have any knowledge of the technical aspects of taking a photo. I plan to study more about photography eventually, but I never want my photos to become too stylized or perfectly composed. To me, too much “perfection” in a portrait can create a distance between the viewer and the subject. I want my images to be as intimate and casual – authentic to the moment – as possible.
I dance, too. I swing dance and tap dance but mostly I just flail about in my individual style whenever music is playing. I choreograph dances to my favorite songs late at night in front of the mirrors in my bedroom. I have never shown these dances to anybody.
I am trying to teach myself the ukulele, but so far I have practiced only eight times over the course of eleven months, so you can imagine how much progress I’ve made. I love music. I hope to master the piano eventually. Perhaps in my sixties. Or in my next life.
All of this however – the writing, the pictures, the dance, the music – is secondary. These pursuits are significant to me only to the extent that they deepen my ability to live in the way I described above. If my creative projects aren’t supporting and informing my life vision, they cease to be relevant to me. My life is my prayer, my offering to the world and to the Divine. My life is my art.
What is your creative process?
Process? What is process? Seriously. I have absolutely no system, virtually no routine. My life is chaotic and ever changing in many ways. I am highly spontaneous and easily distracted. Routine and strict procedures do not suit me. I am daydreamer, a meanderer.
I used to try to force myself to write at the same time every day for two to four hours, because I always read that success in writing required this sort of discipline. Ironically, the years I followed this strict routine were the most unproductive and uninspired years for me. I was bored and this showed itself not only in my writing, but in almost every area of my life as well.
I like to move with my inspirations and follow what ignites me in the moment. Sometimes I write first thing in the morning before anything else, sometimes I don’t get started until Noon, sometimes I work late into the night. Sometimes I write at my computer using fancy word-processing software, sometimes I write using a simple text editor. Sometimes I work at my desk, sometimes I take my laptop to a café or a bar or the library. Sometimes I write by hand in my journal. I use different pens and try different handwriting styles, sometimes I write with the pen in my left hand even though I am right handed. Sometimes I write on napkins. Sometimes I cut letters out of magazines and write by pasting them on an index card. Sometimes I write with a mint green typewriter. I write on the bus, in the dirty break room at my day job, on park benches, in bed, at friends’ houses, while eating, while reading, while listening to music, in silence, whatever. Wherever. However I am moved.
Since I began allowing myself this fluidity, my writing has been inspired and, most importantly, so much more fun. And, ironically again, without the forced routine, I am much more productive than I have ever been.
All that said, I do write for at least one hour every day. Every. Single. Day. That is a non-negotiable for me.
What are you moved to express in your writing the most?
I am moved to speak to that tender spot inside all of us, to our ache, to the thing that pulls at our hearts, to the place where we long for connection and love. Our culture is focused so much on the surface of things, on fame and financial wealth and a very particular appearance of beauty. Our mainstream doesn’t go very deep and this leaves us void. I am moved to go deeper, to give voice to that which truly matters, to that which is enlivening and sustaining. Gratitude, love, joy, clarity, honesty, humility, compassion, understanding, knowledge, growth – these are the topics that interest me.
How do you handle an interruption in the flow of imagination or a writer’s block?
I take a walk. I dance. I ride my bicycle. I go to a part of town I’ve never been before, walk down a new street. Movement helps. A change of scenery helps.
Mostly though, I see interruption is part of the flow, so I don’t worry too much when it happens. I have many ideas and projects in the works at any given moment, so if one isn’t flowing, I move to something else. I am not particularly tied to specific outcomes for my work. I am more interested in the process and the surprise journey on which each project takes me. Each project has its own rhythm and, more often then not, part of that rhythm involves being stuck and frustrated for some time.
I am not scared to give up an idea or start over on a piece of writing if it really isn’t working. I don’t force it. I trust that if I am meant to write a particular thing, the idea will return and I will complete it eventually.
What brings you joy, contentment, happiness?
My mom, my home, drinking tea, kissing, walking, reading poetry, riding my bicycle, taking deep breaths, my friends, the sweet clerks at my favorite grocery store, the moon, crows, naps, a cocktail at four in the afternoon, broccoli, just being able to be alive and experience it all, you know?
Did I mention kissing?
What holds you back?
My mind. Whenever I think too much about anything I limit myself. I am best when I live in my body and from my intuition.
Who are your creative role models?
I am inspired by people who create unique lives and choose not to mindlessly follow the status quo. I am inspired by deep thinkers and sweet spirits.
What do you give yourself unconditionally in life to?
All of it. Every. Single. Moment.
If there were absolutely no obstacles whatsoever, what would you do tomorrow?
I wouldn’t want “no obstacles.” Of all the people I admire, none lived or created greatness without obstacles in front of them. I like the challenge. I like the test. I do as I desire. Obstacles do not stop me from this.
What is on your wish list?
I have a few artistic, loving, inspiring, wise, fun and honest friends; I wish for several more.
Also, I wish for a handsome, charming, playful, intelligent, loving, compassionate and complex man who falls in love with me and with whom I fall in love in return.
Where is your creative space of the world?
I live in the home where I grew up, the same home my mother purchased the year before I was born. I sleep in my childhood bedroom. I never liked leaving home when I was a girl – I didn’t like slumber parties or summer camps. Apparently I don’t like leaving home as a grown woman either. I spent most of my 20s living elsewhere and in my late 20s I returned here. My mother and I share this home and I don’t know when or if I will ever move away. Eagles have built a nest in a tree in our backyard and a sign that reads “The Institute of Arts, Letters and Eternal Optimism” hangs next to our front door.
Famous last words?
Above my writing desk there is a handwritten note that reads, “Note to self: Let no one work harder, see clearer, write better, love deeper, live fiercer than me.”
And also, I love you.
Amanda Ford is a writer and self-portrait artist. She is the author of Kiss Me, I’m Single and Be True To Yourself. She is currently working on a book about loneliness and putting together a one woman multi-media show involving spoken word and stop motion photography. She lives in Seattle with a bicycle named Dot.
Oh so chilly when I woke up this morning ~ I lit a heavenly fire in the livingroom and sprinkled cloves on it for that magical, intoxicating scent I love so much, Simmered a pot of coffee with cinnamon on the stove and I am looking forward to a beautiful day of writing, and listening to the Jonsi concert on NPR. This is an act of worship…the upstirring of words for smalls and peculiars, immense and skimming rambles ~ the here and there’s, then and nows, marveling at otherwords hidden deep in my pockets. (my hands wrapped around them in this cocooned unknown, tenderly pulling the chinese inked secrets out into the receiving day)
I sent out my morning ‘happy mail’ to the participants in my ‘art of living cheerfully’ online course ~ and It is a strange and wondrous thing how uplifting this is to me ~ to ‘pen’ a letter of joy which wings it’s way to them each and every day. Today it included a photo of my favorite dishes. I surely feel like one million seventeen hundred and thirty thousand bucks. Or something like that. (I never was good at math, oh well)
Later I am printing this photo up massive! Bigger than a dinosaur!!! Last week a director at Emily Carr suggested my work would be stunning if enlarged to a gallery size and it struck a strange note with me. I never put my work up in my house, let alone enlarge it, and I never quite considered the why’s and wherefore’s of this strange fact. As if…I somehow don’t quite think of it as beautiful ‘enough’ ~ but it is more than beautiful enough ~ Suddenly I saw this image in his eyes and now I can’t wait to make it a colossal size and mount it (valiantly, with great heart) in my home.
I turn these words (reluctant words) over carefully now and think about this. Do I have to see my work illuminated in someone else’s eyes before I believe my own beauty? And if so, how long has this thwarted…who knows what in my life? This is not vain or egotistical ~ this is unconfident and small.
Curious. Unsettling. Worthy of introspection.
Today…is immense. Today is completely splendiferous I tell you and I am going to blaze a trail of beauty like rattling cans behind a car with ‘just married’ on the back window. Well, why not?
xoxo
Maddie
p.s.
the house smells like fresh gingerbread cake (baking in the oven) ~ I wish you could pop over and have a slice with a drizzle of warm vanilla icing on top:)
I am pleased as pickles to announce a new ‘conversation’ with my lovely friend Laney Butler who somehow always manages to live with an eye to the beautiful all around her ~ visit her here!
wishing you a magical Monday ~ because Monday’s are simply that and more.
oh wait! one more thing! I bought a sweet little skirt at a thrift shop on the weekend ~ isn’t it darling?
Thirty something ~ constant daydreamer ~ lover of anything to do with being creative ~ deep thinker ~ hopeless romantic ~ light seeker ~ tree hugger ~ cat whisperer ~ animal healer ~ photographer ~ magic maker ~ earthy ~ sensitive ~ curvy ~ lover of color ~ good cook ~ shy ~ bookworm
As an artist, what are your favorite ways to express yourself?
Making photos, creating my own jewelry, making collages, dancing, singing, playing music, and cooking. If I’m not a work I’m usually doing something creative. It’s my therapy.
What would you like people to be able to take away from your art?
An appreciation for the beauty in nature.
Pic of coneflowers and bee
Pic of butterfly in flower garden
What are you moved to express in your art the most?
The drama of light and beauty of a landscape.
How beautiful butterflies look sipping on flowers and the way the light shines through their delicate wings.
The way flowers look against the sky from different perspectives.
The glow of prairie weeds in golden light.
The simple beauty of a fall leaf dancing in the crisp air.
Basically, anything I see that makes me happy. With photography I get to take them home with me and share what I see.
What brings you joy, contentment, happiness?
My family ~ my husband ~ my cats ~ my cameras ~ being outside
How has saying ‘yes’ in your life changed the trajectory of your life?
Saying yes has opened my heart to true love with my best friend.
Saying yes has gotten me out of bed on the darkest days of my infertility.
Saying yes has opened doors to something that has always been waiting for me.
What holds you back?
The big three. I loathe the words. Fear, money, and procrastination.
Who are your creative role models? What books, art, music inspire and ignite you?
My first and only role model in life would have to be my mom. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up, so she taught me how to be creative and how to use my imagination. My deep love for nature and music was instilled by her.
Books: Poetry and photography books.
Music: Lately I’ve been inspired by the words and sounds of Alela Diane, Gillian Welch, Van Morrison, Jenny Lewis, Sufjan Stevens, and Bon Iver.
Movies: Bright Star, Marie Antoinette, and FairyTale
What do you give yourself unconditionally in life to?
My family and art.
Where has love taken you?
Love has taken me on the biggest trip of all…life.
If there were absolutely no obstacles whatsoever what would you do tomorrow?
Have all the funds I need to adopt a child.
What is on your wish list?
For Rob and I to get to be parents someday.
To teach my future child about the beauty of nature and art.
To see my parents hold their first grandchild.
To grow all my own food.
My own wildflower butterfly garden.
A hasselblad camera.
A VW camper bus or Scamp.
To travel to the UK with Rob.
A vintage photo booth in my living room would be pretty cool!
Where do you feel most like yourself?
Outside with my camera.
If you could go anywhere in the world to sit and create where would that be?
Redwood Forest. I’m going there for the first time next summer and I can’t wait to photograph those glorious redwoods. I’ve always had a deep connection with trees.
Famous last words?
I wish I had my camera!
xoxo
Laney
Laney Butler is a veterinary assistant and self-taught photographer. She lives in a little house in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas with her husband and four very spoiled cats. Laney spends all her free time outside taking pictures, searching thrift stores for vintage goodness, dancing around with her cats, and cooking up new recipes.
There is a sudden catch in my chest a lot like love, armloads of glinting leaves drowning in gold, spires of words which tilt and wander across my page on and on and on, sweeping canvases of mauve skies…strong tea in a vintage rooster teacup. (with a red handle! and which I love)
Upon wakening I chase the gloaming light and photograph an artist’s house for a new set on flickr entitled ‘the artist’s castle ‘ which makes for the happiest of weeks. (On Sunday I will ‘unveil’ these photo’s to share with you)
As an afterthought I had such a mesmeric dream the other night. There was a beckoning new home by the sea, the appearance of two new teachers (a blacksmith and a film director) singing (I sang on the doorstep of my new home for all the world to hear more ectastically than churchbells even) ~ and twin cats which followed me as I walked home in the sunshine (taking turns being invisible) ~ one of my teachers drove by and upon seeing the cats called out “now you see it, now you don’t”
What to make of the dream? So much radiance, joy, creativity and magic to behold. Better than a garden of peonies or even red balloons. You would think after such a magical dream I would be reluctant to rejoin the world upon awakening…but I just know it is a vision of things already in the making.
‘Leo Matienne had the soul of a poet, and because of this, he liked very much to consider questions that had no answers.’
(~ the magician’s elephant ~)
My house smells so utterly autumnal as I made some spiced purple cabbage for supper with roasted butternut squash ~ this glorious cloved scent has mixed with the nag champa incense burning near my window and the valiant sea air spins through much like a nightingale. Autumn loves to ‘move things around and these dancing, intermingling aroma’s seem to understand this quite beautifully.
I have been a bit tired today so I made myself a cup of blackberry ginger tea this evening with a generous spoonful of raw organic honey and fresh squeezed lemon and I sit here curled up with my sweet dog Roxy by my side. She has been with me all day from the early morning walk (such a very very longgggggggg walk by the sea!) and later, snoozed contentedly by my feet as I scanned polaroids in my studio for hours and shifted things around, here, there and everywhere. I like shifting things ‘here, there and everywhere’ ~ I always find something I forgot I had but absolutely can’t live without:)
Lately I have been reading about the ancient Japanese aesthetic of ‘Wabi Sabi‘ which is a philosophy rooted in Zen Buddhism. Wabi Sabi is the Japanese art of finding beauty in imperfection and is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. I have always had a deep and abiding love for the imperfect particularly in nature and this is why my home is filled with feathers, worn stones, chipped sea shells and various dried flowers and poppy pods spilling little trails of seeds all about. This simple realm of the beautiful can be appreciated in so many things ~ a slight askew pottery mug, a faded handknit scarf, or worn leather journal lovingly read over and over again.
The word ‘wabi’ roughly translates as ‘simple, quiet, fresh’ while the word ‘sabi’ suggests the beauty that arises from age in a lovely patina and wear ~ and when put together they celebrate the elegance, quirks and anomalies which arise in the ‘making’ or ‘process’ of the object whether it be man made or from nature. However I found a few notations in various sources that mentioned originally wabi meant the lonliness of living in nature and sabi referred to a ‘withering’ ~ the definitions changed somewhere around the fourteenth century. Together the original meaning from the Buddhist philosophy connoted a serene melancholy or spiritual longing.
I don’t wish to go on and on here but merely give you a brief understanding of ‘wabi sabi’ as it has influenced some images in my photography ~ the one you see above of the old ball of yarn in the snow and this one…
…which I took this morning walking along Crescent beach with my girl Roxy. It is actually quite difficult to get a shot of the sea without Roxy hurling her body in and trying to get into the picture:)
Oh! This week has been a very good week by the way for thrifting ~ I found a fabulous pair of vintage bellbottoms, some wonderful vinyl records (le ‘Bing’ (Crosby) in Paris, Nat King Cole and Irving Berlin songs as well) aaaaaaaaaand a lovely blanket from Guatemala which is going to be a perfect picnic blanket. I also found a lovely little basket filled with bars of violet soap ~ yes! violet soap and am hoping I can take some pictures for you to see as the color is quite lovely.
Wishing you some full moon magic on the weekend ~ and a warm, pleasant bath with violet soap.
In the coffee shop this morning (one pound organic breakfast blend) the boy in the lineup behind me sang along with ‘banana pancakes’ and it was so charming ~ his girlfriend wore a dress the color of mint julep and I could tell they hadn’t even brushed their hair yet which seemed to me the most perfect thing in the world.
I have a simply divine little notebook I carry in my velvet satchel ~ it is by paperblanks and the cover is dedicated to the fabrics of the jacquard loom silk weaving tradition of france and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me feel to pull it out with my pencils and write in it…
In this green (saffron, wildberry, gold, silver beaded) notebook I jot down snippets (don’t you love that word? ~ ‘snippets’~ ) of life I see and overhear ~ quite often ‘found’ in coffeeshops.
So this morning, which began albeit a bit grumpily (there really is nothing worse than waking up and finding you have no coffee in the kitchen) soon transformed into a glimpse of such cheeriness in the coffee shop humming along to banana pancakes.
My beautiful friend Darlene is preparing to launch her new photography course ~ and having benefited and blossomed from her generous and patient and inspired teachings with the camera I cannot testify enough how bountiful this course will be ~ there is bound to be lineups at her registration door so be ready!
Today…I am enamored with these portraits just ooooozing lovely love ~ they feature the talented Laney with her beloved taken by Michelle Stone Photography and I am so pleased as Laney is working on a ‘conversation’ for us:)
Oh!!! aaaaaaand I am impatiently thrilled as Liz’s retreat I am teaching at (polaroids and poetry) is filling up ~ I can’t wait to spend a weekend with a soulful gathering of artistic women in the effervescent Pacific Northwest. I have been working on little ‘goody bags’ for my class and getting a bit carried away I think.
The other evening I went to Bard on the Beach with my friend
Catherine and had the most positively brilliant time.
The summer evening was hot and breezy
and Bard on the Beach was sheer magic in the tent~ you see,
behind the stage the entire tent was open which welcomed
views of towering trees and the singing sea complete with
swooping seabirds (and the odd motor boat but we won’t
talk about that) ~ the set was designed with pillars and
balconies (after all this IS Shakespeare and you
simply have to have a balcony) and floor to ceiling windows
so the background of sea and trees and seabirds became
part of the set if you can picture it most beautifully….it
was beyond gorgeous and positively symphonic and completely
took my breath away
…and the sun SET all the while we enjoyed this most darling
rigamarole of plays in above mentioned trees and I almost
fainted with the sheer gorgeousness of it all not to mention
the twinkling stars which shone so brightly through the set
windows
I had chocolate and beer (because you can bring picnics into the tent)
and I laughed out loud perhaps a little too loudly too often
making people glance over at me with barely tolerant smiles
it’s not my fault I am quick witted enough to catch all of the
Bard’s bawdy references
the lead Jennifer Lines (who is the lead in TWO of the
Bard on the Beach shows this year!!!) reminded me of
Katherine Hephburn with her spunk, guts and moxie in this frolicsome play
It was just all to much joy and I am still basking in the energy of
that evening as I sip my Sunday coffee, listening to my beautiful cd
a certain lovely man made for me with this song crooning through my morning ~ and oh! there are fireflies and hummingbirds in my garden celebrating summer:)
I have a most splendid conversation to share with you from the brilliantly shiny Steph Parke ~ go see! Gosh, that girl has me green with camera envy:)
