Tag Archives: trees

Finn gacked and gacked

10 Replies

There I was googling kennel cough and windpipe obstructions at three a.m. Finn was in distress. Coughing and coughing and letting loose pancakes of foamy mucous. Frequently, poor guy!

(Only on the rugs for some reason).

Called the ER at Angell at four but opted not to go, instead making an emergency appointment at our vet this morning for tomorrow. And then, lo! Finny coughed up half a kibble in one final pancake of slime and hasn’t coughed since.

Whew!

You know what else I’m grateful for this morning? Trees. Always trees. I know I’ve told you before, but the golden chain tree out front came in the mail as a twelve-inch long bare-root sapling on Arbor Day many years ago. I don’t remember exactly when, but the boys were little. Just look at it now!

Another favorite tree on our walk

I’m also grateful to have known Michelle. There is a lovely tribute over on Nancy’s blog this morning. Thank you, Nancy. You speak for a lot of us who are still missing that intrepid and generous soul!

And why do I say “still” missing, as if i should somehow be done by now?

Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of my brother’s stroke. He has come such a long way! Did I mention that he has started to be able to move the affected right leg? Amazing. His progress confirms the stroke advice to measure progress in months and not weeks.

Can’t wait to see him next month. In the meantime, there are quilts to post on Etsy, a Slave Dwelling Conference to attend, and butternut squash soup to make!

Platinum sky

11 Replies

Wondered as I took this picture what a House Series would look like if most of the house was out of the frame.

Capturing this little boy on his bike created a story. Where is he going? Is he cold (I was)? Who is protecting him?


And later, still with the idea of protection, I thought about Imagemaking as a form of Prayer. Not Artist-as-Channel, where any creation made in the zone (i.e. connected to holy source) makes the Making a form of prayer. But rather imagemaking as prayer for someone, the way a Unity Church group, for example, might pray for someone. Below combines at least 3 images.

cuteness and color

4 Replies

1. driftwood, 2. Buddha at Ayutthaya, Thailand, 3. I’ve been everywhere, man, 4. Nuts to This, 5. Fabric House Brooches, 6. Untitled, 7. Untitled, 8. Takeoff, 9. How to love　1, 10. House in Azeitão, 11. IMG_7374, 12. Untitled, 13. spiderboytwo, 14. flip, 15. Hallowe’en exuberance, 16. windowlace with faux cat, 17. one way of seeing cypress knees, 18. IMG_8514, 19. winter morning, 20. squirrelita

neighborhood, filtered

museum in Montreal

boundaries

Leave a reply

“a path through the trees” in Chilmark, shot with the Sketchbook Project in mind (I missed the deadline! Wasn’t thinking about it at all!  And I don’t care!!!)…

Since being back from a weekend on the Vineyard, where the senses were feted by sea and rock and trees and food and friends, where the clutching concerns of daily life had a chance to relax, I am feeling things in my gut.  Tending to one’s gut can be instructive.  If I feel a little sick, as I have many times the last three mornings, I adjust what is right before me until I don’t.  This may be a faint bug asserting itself, but I more than half-wish it weren’t – I could use a feedback loop this insistent and obvious!

I’ve slowed a bit here.  Hurried other places.  Quilting a lot.  Working on creating new teaching gig, selling gig, and also tending to parental responsibilities.

Today, a two-man crew fixed our picket fence, and installed a gate where there had been none – in between the house and garage.  Now, the fence makes a ring around the backyard.  An enclosure.  Come spring, I will be able to garden out back with Jack and not worry about where he has trotted off to.  The renovation/repair echoes weekend discussions about boundaries.  Here is a novel way to view boundaries:

A boundary is a region, not a line.  It has the effect of defining what is included, as well as what is excluded.  In fact, it is a place of meeting and connection, for it’s where your edges meet mine… We don’t know much about boundaries.  Most of us have been taught to withhold ourselves behind invisible barriers… what we need to do is to find our edges and expand our awareness, to go deeper into our bodies.  This doesn’t mean shutting someone else out.  It means letting your needs in…

From, “No Enemies Within — A Creative Process for Discovering What’s Right about What’s Wrong” by Dawna Markova.

I love the idea that tending one’s boundary is about discovering one’s needs and including them, and not necessarily about keeping others out!  Going deeper into the body is a challenge, and one I feel ready to embrace.  I take a quote off the wall from the chiropractor’s office visited on Tuesday as further inspiration.  The article pointed out that  ‘even 10 minute bursts of activity provide the benefits of exercise’.

So, 10 minute bursts, here I come!  Stomach geiger-counter, I’m listening! Sketchbook Project – you will stay home this year!

“A path through the woods” – the Sketchbook Project, 2012

1 Reply

For this year’s Sketchbook theme, I chose — “a path through the woods”.  I wanted something that offered the possibility of optimism, as well as a prompt for a narrative with a beginning, middle, and end.

I like the idea of surprises, of being lost, and of finding clues about the way out or forward.

Some close ups of the bark and markers make me want to try and translate these textures to cloth.

And suddenly, there it is, the way out.

With just a few differing perspectives, there is a rudimentary story.

I found a path leading into the woods, and followed it.  Through twists and turns, past leaves, branches, and rocks, I lost my way.  I paused to take pictures.  Destruction from a recent storm caught my eye, as did an inky dark pool with its aura of bottomlessness.  At some point, red markers, striped on trees, signaled the direction.  I followed.  Red stripes.  Then, suddenly, sky – a teeny triangle of it – appears.  Taking off my Converse all-stars, I left the woods and went home.

Today, the rain plops down and a chicken boiling on the stove fills the house with its homey aroma.  Very little beats this kind of day.