I'm still here

Earlier this month I spent two lovely weeks in lovely Michigan with my lovely family.  One of my sisters has the good fortune of living in the northwest quadrant of the lower peninsula, (also known as the LP, or the Mitten) where she can see scenes such as this every day.

 

 Lovely Lake Michigan

When I'm downstate, (not Up North) at my folks house I always, always, always pay a visit to The Flint Institute of Arts.  I've said it before: the FIA is a little gem of a museum and each time I visit I am treated to interesting exhibits and a delightful permanent collection.  This time my parents and I enjoyed the work of Abstract Expressionists, a collection from the Speed Art Museum of Louisville, Kentucky and some exquisite, ancient Chinese ceramics.  And when I say ancient, I mean ancient; some of these vessels were over 5,000 years old! 

 

They have sort of a southwest quality to them doncha think?  Which on one level totally makes sense if that whole land bridge between Asia and North America is for reals.  Perhaps there is something to the idea of collective, cultural memory.

Now, back in the lovely Pacific Northwest, we are experiencing our annual dog days, (we usually have about three).  They say yesterday was the hottest day of the year, (so far) but it was no where near as hot, (or as humid) as my two weeks in Michigan.  At least there every building has air conditioning, although I can't for the life of me understand why some people, (who shall remain nameless) set their thermostat at 80 degrees.  I mean really, why bother?

Presently I am trying to rev up my momentum for so many things: long, multi-day bike rides, (for which I am frighteningly unprepared); strenuous hikes, (for which I am frighteningly unprepared); and creative work, (for which I am frighteningly unprepared). Sketching always makes me think/feel I'm doing something, so today I finished filling another sketchbook.

They're selling fast!

Two Saturdays ago I participated in the Artists Garage Sale at the Schack Art Center in Everett, Washington.   This annual, one-day event is an opportunity for local artists and craftspeople to 'clean house' offering extra supplies, old artwork, and unneeded doodads cluttering the studio, at 'discount' prices.  I took the opportunity to offer proofs of some of my print editions as well as some studio 'experiments' and note cards made from my blog sketches.  My daughter and I spent the day hawking my wares and people watching.  I sold proofs and cards to new friends and old and generally had a jolly good time.  Here's a sampling of my note cards, (minus the watermark, of course).

And, two weeks ago, I  finally finished the piece I had been working on since April.  Alas, the edition has been hidden away in a drawer as I am very disappointed with how it turned out.  It just took too darn long to complete and in that lengthy time I lost my mojo.  I wonder if not looking at it for awhile will change how I feel about it, sometimes it does, but I rather doubt it. Oh well, on to the next.

On climbing hills

After climbing a great hill, one only finds  there are many more hills to climb.  -Nelson Mandela

My life has taken some twists and turns in the past few years.  Some paths have been exciting and mind expanding others have been heartbreaking and others still have been absolute drudgery.  In recent months things seemed to have settled a bit and I've been coasting.  One way I think about it is, I've been riding my bike up a challenging hill, huffing and puffing, sweat dripping into my eyes, my legs screaming with pain then suddenly I've reached the top of the hill and before me is a long downhill run.  I'm still breathing hard, sweat continues to drip from my face, and my muscles continue to sear with pain, but with the residual discomfort of such exertion comes a feeling of rest and impending restoration.  Uh, oh, reality check.  The most interesting journeys, in my humble opinion, are full of rolling hills and changes of scenery.   As  I approach the bottom of the downhill coast, I am faced with another in a series of life's hills. In other words, my period of coasting has come to an end and once again I am starting up another of life's rolling hills.  My dear friend Sue calls these rolling hills, f*#king opportunities for growth. This is interesting to me for two reasons; one, my friend Sue is in her 70's and it's funny to hear older folks drop the f-bomb; and two, in her saying this, I realize that one never really gets to coast through life, rather,  life will always offers up challenges and transitions.  What makes the difference is how we face those challenges and transitions. Climbing hills requires focus and strength and endurance.  Coasting, at first is exhilarating, but soon becomes a blur; the scenery zipping by too quickly to notice and the wheels spinning so fast it's hard to get into the most efficient gear.  And your butt gets sore.  I actually like the hill climbing better.  Five years ago, in the midst of the end of my marriage, I waved goodbye to my children as they all left home to attend university.  It took some time getting used to not doing my housewife/mom-job 24/7, but I climbed that hill with a lot of blood, sweat and (mostly) tears.  Over Memorial Day weekend, the last one graduated and on Thursday two of them moved back home; one for just a few weeks, the other for a time undetermined.  My house is suddenly full of more stuff, more clutter, more noise, and another cat.  To be sure, they are each facing their own transitions so we may be in for a bumpy ride, but am up for the challenge.  In fact I am hoping that in negotiating the changes in my home life I my become more focused in other areas of my life.  To be more specific, I hope this domestic upheaval will curb the tendency for sloth that has been the hallmark of my last few months of coasting. Yes, me thinks it's time to stop sitting on my butt letting life zip by, get out of my saddle and start pumping up the next hill.

Here's a blurry little sketch I did months ago, long before I could even anticipate what would come next in life, but somehow it seems apropos, for my recent college graduates anyway.  I imagine I'm off on the sidelines cheering them on.

How long did it take to carve that?

I am often asked the above question when showing a block to someone.  Given how I work, (print, carve, curse, print, carve, curse, etc.) it's difficult to come up with an accurate answer.  Until today!  Yesterday I sat down to do some carving and can with all accuracy state that it took seven hours to carve the dragon scales on the block shown below.  This morning my wrist is sore and ibuprofen is my friend.

 

Year of the Dragon, in progress.

uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque!

Yay, I did it; five days of the sketch challenge!  Never mind that  I skipped one day!  I ended up with five!  And that's what matters! 
So why five sketches of tears?  One for my kitty who needed some attention from the vet; one for my car which needed another expensive repair; one for my house alarm that malfunctioned; one for the rats who chewed through the wires of my house alarm causing it to malfunction; and the last for my bicycle tire that suddenly and dramatically went flat, mercifully AFTER my bike ride.

Quattro

 Here's is my fourth submission on the fifth day of the challenge. Still running behind.  It's enough to make me cry.

Trois

A few hours late, but here is my third entry in the daily thematic sketch challenge. I completed the sketch yesterday afternoon but was called away before I could post, to attend my book group.  This month we read, and last night discussed, Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen, (loved this book and wish Rhoda was one of my BFFs).  Our discussion took us from religion, to mental illness, to the nature of relationships, to the current state of feminism, to same sex marriage and back again. It's fun when a book can facilitate such a wide and varied discussion.  Of course wine helps as does the fact that as 'women of a certain age' we tend to become distracted easily.