Tuesday, November 13, 2012
rain is falling,
there is so much I want to do;
the creative pull ever at odds
with the practical.
The incessant " to do " list
or the blind contour ;
a weekly mail exchange with my art friend , Nancy.
I printed out her blog so I could curl up on
the sofa later and travel vicariously with her.
She told me my blog inspired her and that makes me happy.
I have not been writing many blog posts since we moved;
losing the inspiration I got from my writing group was hard.
I just looked at my blog views and they were shockingly high
so that was inspiring. I thank those of you who check out
my posts from time to time and hope you too will do what feeds your soul.
WHAT INSPIRES YOU????
Today I made a secret place, tucked away on a secret beach,
behind the scrub pines and the dunes. I hung out there until the
sky turned dark and the heavens threatened to open.
As I was searching for driftwood to paint on I came across two
wooden chairs that had washed deep up into the salt marsh. There
was also a tree stump which I rolled in front of the chairs for a foot rest.
I cannot wait to go back with the pups
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
"Why I wake early."
" Stand still and be astonished."
This morning our 12 year old golden woke me at 5:45. That was good but 4:45 would have been even better. That would give me time to leisurely sip my coffee, get dressed and out before the sunrise.
I saw it rising over the trees outside my bedroom window but I wasn't out experiencing it. Before the wind begins to stir, there is a stillness to the morning that gives a canvas of ever changing reflections. Walking along the beach this morning was like a religious experience. Nature never fails to amaze me with her palette of color, songs of the shore birds and smells of the sea. Maybe tomorrow I'll see the sunrise.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The house, which doubled as a gallery, was well worn. Canvas's and colorful bottles filled the large window overlooking Commercial Street. The artwork had an old school Provincetown feeling and when I walked through the front door I felt like I was traveling through time. The small, dark hallway lead into a large living room filled with canvases of all sizes. It was musty in an oddly inviting way, like summer houses we would rent when I was a little girl; always filled with excitement for another summer on Cape Cod.
I heard my husband say " Do you think they are open? " A woman's voice responded " We're a little dusty, if you don't mind dust we are open." Settled comfortably, at an old desk behind the front door, sat a small round woman with twinkly eyes and grey hair. She had a box of corks in her laps from the local resturants. On the floor, up against the wall and under the window were more boxes of corks. Next to the tattered old swivel chair sat a tiny table with a large zip lock bag of corks. She explained the reason for all the corks. " I am the sorter of the corks " she said contentedly. " I go through all these boxes of corks, separate the good ones and we sell them to raise money to buy trees. When you go to the library you will see three new trees, they are cork trees!"
This happy little woman had me at "corks". The more I talked with her the more enchanted I became. Her husband, who sat snoozing in the back room, was the painter. The large tropical bird in the kitchen was her "best friend". Seventeen years ago they agreed to take care of the bird for three weeks. The owner never returned and so the bird, is a great talker and confidante.
She invited us to wander through the house. Along with her husband slept two dogs and three cats. On the kitchen table there was marmalade, jam, toast and an ancient teapot. She told us they had moved to P-town fifty years ago. " A lot has changed since then, back then the only other women were two nurses and two teachers." I am still not sure whether she referred to her only friends or the only women living in Provincetown.
She held up the large zip lock bag of corks and confessed, "These are the prized ones I cannot part with. Some are very rare, some are just too beautiful to part with and some of them have phone numbers on them to call.... of course I have to call those." she said with an enchanting twinkle in her eye.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Now that it is warm I drink my coffee outside on my new purchase, a dreamy wicker chaise with hunter green cushions. Our house, built around 1840, is on a main road yet the back yard is a private oasis of birdsong. Yesterday my neighbor sat meditating in her backyard with the contented look of Buddha. She said, " I can't think of any place I'd rather be, this is my favorite place in the world. " I had to agree.
There is something about starting the day with the birds flitting and swooping around you. Nothing worldly seems terribly pressing when you are listening to a symphony of birdsong. The variety of song would suggest there are far more birds than I can identify. I see only the chickadees, robins, finches, starlings, mockingbirds, grackles, sparrows and an occasional cardinal. Early in the spring I saw red wing blackbirds but they are gone. Yesterday I saw a pair of morning doves in the bird bath and last night a bunny with a fluffy white tail sat munching the wildly overgrown grass in the backyard.
Spring is most certainly here. We put the skis into storage and the summer clothes are making their debut. Hanging pots of pansies have been adorning the front porch for over a month. The forsythia bushes create a wild border of yellow blossoms around the property. This is a truly happy house and I cannot think of anywhere I'd rather be than here in Harwich.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Got shells? I just delivered this custom wreath to my friend Donna from Salt Lake City , Utah . Donna spent the winter in Chatham with her mother and collected these pottery pieces while she was here. She asked me to make her a wreath and this is what my partner , Anne Brown and I designed. It is incredibly fun and satisfying making these wreaths ( though the burnt fingers alla the hot glue gun are not.)
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
In the past six months there have been but a handful of days that I didn't walk at least one beach. A stomach bug kept me in one day, another was just too bitter and windy and the days I was away. That was until three weeks ago when I was diagnosed with shingles. I think of myself as pretty bullet proof but this was hideously painful, debilitating and isolating. At one point the nerve pain brought me to tears.
Now I am on the mend; not 100% energy wise but trying to be patient. I did find I have a "window" most days of a couple of decent hours.A few weeks ago I dropped two collages off at the Creative Arts Center in Chatham and later got a call I was an Honorable Mention winner. Later in the week I made my way to The Mayflower , an iconic gift store in Chatham, to show them my line of cards and they enthusiastically placed an order. So those were two very positive things that happened and now I plan to make up for lost time on the beach!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Last week we spent the week in Stowe,Vermont where there was enough snow to do everything we love. The downhill was hard pack with more ice than I care for and very fast. Cross country was similar but we found some trails along sunny farm fields that were spectaular. My favorite days were the days we spent exploring different walking trails.
The Information Center in town has maps with detailed instructions to exquisite walks. Many of them are through woods that have been donated by generous families for conservation and the enjoyment of nature lovers. One family I am grateful to is the Weizner family who donated acres of the woods I took these photographs of.