JerseyRidgeArts

Unresolved

2012-01-06T09:26:00.003-06:00

This is an old piece I made probably 8 or so years ago - a textured pendant strung on coral beads with steel findings - I made everything but the coral beads....

I resolved not to resolve this year but am finding it near impossible when faced with all the voices on Pinterest. Can't seem to resist the resolutions of others and have been mesmerized by the lengths we will go to be something we're not. Luckily though my Pinterest Boards are full of color and design ideas, inspiring art and artists...and a few fattening recipes...hah! Click to see the pretty pictures Pinterest

Taking baby steps still this first week but expecting that I will feel better eventually and maybe sooner if I can find the way back to my studio.

Surviving a Broken Heart

2011-12-31T14:12:00.003-06:00

....what a long, strange trip its been...
but I kept on truckin'.

Ten years ago this month I got run over by a semi truck (no grandma/reindeer jokes please)....and many who know me were subjected to my medical laments since that time. I knew something was wrong but I couldn't convince anyone until this summer.

Long story short, I had heart surgery in September to repair an aortic aneurysm. Apparently I ripped the long tube in my heart in May while running through the second busiest airport in the US to catch a plane to catch a ship to travel to the land of my ancestors. Usually the ripping of the aorta is a fatal event but I'd paid for the trip and I was going. And I did. And I came home and continued with life and work and responsibilities....and then had a tiny surgery to repair a congenital heart defect ('nother issue entirely) with great result. But wait, that's when life became a Ginsu knife commercial - there's MORE! Turns out I had this big fat rip and a big fat aneurysm and so I had a big fat surgery. It is now 3 months later and today is the first day I actually believe I will not die soon.

And how apropos - the last day of a difficult year - not sad to see 2011 go and am desperately hoping for a healthier and happier and all 'round better 2012.

Of course this assault on my mortality has led me to excessive thinking and re-evaluating and re-vising and picking a word(s) and re-solving and yada yada but I think the plan will be to do more of what I want and less of what Other People want - heh. I will say, though, that I am Damn Strong.

Truckin', like the do-dah man. Once told me "You got to play your hand"

Sometimes your cards ain't worth a damn, if you don't lay'em down - Grateful Dead

ROOTS

2011-03-18T11:39:00.000-05:00

Life has been dormant since my last posting but small signs of rebirth are emerging...poking through the litter of the Last Year. The previous months have been mostly Plodding Along with nothing of particular merit to mention.

Spring is finally whispering in the Midwest...getting Louder each passing day. The Gardens are are beginning to stir, the Birds announce each Morning and Renewal is in the air. A Super Full Moon tomorrow followed by the Vernal Equinox on Sunday...past time to Move Ahead.

Searching for Roots is my daily intention - both at Home and in the World....Digging deep in the Gardens while day dreaming of another Trip (soon!) to see where my Clan was first planted. Fascinated by the stories of my Pioneers...mostly Rabblerousers tilting at windmills of Injustice...all Adventurers with Great Courage.

Pull Out a Plum

2010-08-13T17:19:00.000-05:00

Summer has been vibrant albeit steamy and hot - The Orchard is groaning under the weight of plums, peaches, pears and apples. Squash won the race to smother The Garden unless you count The Weeds. The Barnyard is busy but the oppressive heat in August has taken its toll.

My health has improved somewhat - at least enough to Get Things Done although I have yet to face The Studio. The longing to make again rides roughly just under the surface of obligations...the urge to pick up a brush or fondle some beads, sketch the necklace I've been seeing in the back of my eye or fold crisp paper into signatures for a percolating story, is strong. August brought an online class and I'm learning a lot despite the crankiness of my computer.

I feel like I'm on the edge of something...maybe its just the time of year or the fact that The Man filed for social security. Not sure when I became this old but I can feel The Wheel turning. The weeks have passed filled with the tug of Should and the pull of Would.

To pay attention, this is our endless
and proper work.

Mary Oliver

The Trip

2010-06-14T11:30:00.002-05:00

Early in Life I had expected to be a world traveler: investigative reporter ( a la Woodward/Bernstein), a restaurateur, eclectic shopkeeper, author, artist....

Life unfolded and those dreams faded until my '40's when mid-life desperation set in and I promised myself Paris by 50...

A little late and a lot rushed. Here's a tiny glimpse of the more than 500+ photos

Bloom Where I'm Planted

2010-05-31T07:12:00.003-05:00

Jetlagged but happy - the Gardens bloomed while I was gone due to extraordinary heat - advancing the Season...and the weeds.

Happy to be home but Happier still to have seen a bit of the World...pictures to follow once the Mountains of laundry are done....

Bloom

2010-05-17T09:25:00.000-05:00

My gardens are ready to *pop* and I am (almost) ready to *fly*.

Delight

2010-05-04T10:50:00.005-05:00

Early morning walks in the Gardens are filled with Delight.

The Mantle of Choice

2010-05-02T07:46:00.003-05:00

Wondering about choice and reason this morning....
Lady's Mantle in my garden....
I grow it not for its sulphur-ish flowers or the particular shade or shape of leaf but for its seemingly magical ability to capture the dew.
I'd like to be like that.

Dawning

2010-05-02T07:43:00.001-05:00

Found the urge to pick up my camera....just before dawn this morning.

Heartfelt

2010-04-27T12:58:00.002-05:00

Recovering from a year-long volunteer project.....the operation was a success but the patient died...

A new adventure awaits just 3 weeks from today. Must re-set my mind and emotions so that I can fully experience what comes next.

In the meantime, Spring came early-ish here with lots of bloom, there are six new pullets in the henhouse, a few new artistic classes (to take the edge off the volunteer job) but no new art for a very long time...

And weeding....literally and figuratively...much to be done.

"Life is pure adventure, and the sooner we realize that, the sooner we will be able to treat life as art." - Maya Angelou

Trust Yourself

2010-02-22T09:27:00.003-06:00

Carlene Carter - Trust Yourself from dagb on Vimeo.

Yet more lessons from the Universe this past month...a constant barrage of opportunities to practice personal discernment - to recognize and honor Those Things We Know To Be True. My grade on the Trust Yourself test borders on "F".

I suspect that my failure is not unique - that many before and after me will whine miserably about 'knowing better' and 'oh why did I..." - but that is cold comfort. Socialization may well be the culprit but I really thought women my age were over that....are we so indoctrinated as to believe that our truths, if stated honestly and accurately, ring with arrogance and should be carefully cloaked in swaddled compromise? Must we bow to the terrorism of 'right relations' when we Know that something is Not Right? Do we gulp and just agree that the Moon is made of Cheese so that we're perceived as a Team Player? Is Going Along to Get Along the One True Path? Is the Collective Delusion the only way to (pretend to) Survive?

Not to be confused with Kindness nor Grace, can this failure to trust personal discernment be dismissed in order to satisfy a twisted definition of Positive Thinking?

Well, you're on your own, you always were
In a land of wolves and thieves
Don't put your hope in ungodly man
Or be a slave to what somebody else believes.
Bob Dylan

Here's what I know right Now. It snowed. Laundry is piled up. Assignments are waiting.
The Wheel Turns.

Art, Aretha and Me

2010-01-24T20:49:00.000-06:00

This morning, at the dawn of my 53^rd birthday, I went downstairs to my neglected studio to meet Art. Navigating my way through boxes and bags of forgotten projects and supplies, I spied Art sitting quietly at the jewelry bench. “Hey, how’ve you been?” she asked casually.

First I started in with the litany of reasons why I hadn’t been to see her in weeks and then apologized for the big mess the studio rooms have become over the last year… I started to launch into my heavy work load at the paying job and my huge volunteer project and…. “Yeah, I can see that you’re busy so…” she interrupted “…what’s different about today?”

Quickly I explained that I was taking an online class with a group of real artists, women who are actively engaged in art making every day, and that my class assignment this week is to have a marriage ceremony – with Art.

Art laughed and said, “It’s a little late for us to get married at this point don’t you think? We’re more like FBI friends – you know, I’ll take you in at any hour, on any day, for any reason – no questions asked, no pressure, no guilt, no obligations…remember? All you have to do is show up.” An awkward silence fell…

Art glanced over at the work table. “That necklace you almost finished is still here…and there’s that experiment you started with the gelatin prints. And your favorite Aretha disk is in the player…”

I sheepishly sat down, reached over and hit Play….

Baby baby, sweet baby…There's something that I just got to say…Baby baby, sweet baby…You left me hurtin' in a real cold
way
Speak your name, And I'll feel a thrill. You said I do…And I said I will
I tell you that I'll stay true and give you just a little time. Wait on me baby, I want you to be all mine
I just get so blue…

Since you've been gone, baby (why'd you do it? why'd you have to do it?) Since you've been gone
(why'd you do it? why'd you have to do it?)

Baby baby, sweet baby, I didn't mean to run you away
It was pride on my lips, But not in my heart to say the things that made you stray

But ah, babe, Hear me now (hear me)
I don't know what I'm gonna do (hear me) Got to get you back somehow (hear me now)

Oooh, take me back, consider me please
If you walk in that door, I can get up off my knees

I just been so blue….Since you been gone….

Art and I looked meaningfully at each other and smiled. I muttered something about the Universe knows all.... and Art said, “We’re cool."

Looking

2010-01-21T07:11:00.003-06:00

Looking for my way back - the road, a path, a sign of something true. 53 looms large this week with no word for this first year of the next decade. 2009 - and the rest of the 'oughts' - are thankfully passed. Letting go of loss and mourning. Fervently hoping that the promise of the 'teens' will reveal and renew.

The first step is participation in Leslie Avon Miller's Re-Fresh Your Creative Practice
6 weeks in the company of vibrant working artists who may be able to light my way to a fresh try, one more start and the recaptured delight of a new day.

I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day,
a fresh try, one more start,
with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.
~JB Priestley

The End

2009-12-31T22:29:00.001-06:00

What a year...what a decade ...

Be-Tween

2009-09-28T10:48:00.002-05:00

Not Summer now but not quite Autumn...the World rushing fiercely toward Winter Holidays leaving some of Us torn between Moving Forward or Hanging Back...holding onto the remnants of the Year.

That's where I am...be-tween time. Like the last green tomato in the garden...do I Let It Go or hold out in the Hope it will turn red before the Wheel Turns?

Deja vu creeps into my thoughts - haven't I done this before? Felt this way before? Repeated the same Thinking, the same Moves, the same Patterns and Procrastinations?

I learned Long Ago (and do truly believe) that the only way to Change is to Do Differently...no amount of Thinking, Feeling or Saying makes It different until I Change What I Do.

The Wheel Turns

2009-08-10T11:41:00.002-05:00

What a strange Summer it has been: cool and damp; slow now fast. August segmented in thirds, thinking ahead to Winter already.

Much activity on The Farm: watching Green Tomatoes and secretly hoping for Red scorching days; new Roosters to man the Coop (Stu and Lucky, gifts from a Stranger now Friend); Japanese Beetle Patrol abandoned and destruction accepted...

Today's Agenda includes processing 10# of Michigan Blueberries (the Bubba Gump of Berries: jam, jelly, muffins, pies, tarts, turnovers....) and making Freezer Pickles that promise Crispness come January.

Big Art still beckons although I manage little art through the lens.

Losing Ground

2009-07-13T07:43:00.003-05:00

A recent, though work related, visit to The Japanese Garden at Rotary Gardens, Janesville, Wisconsin, drove home the point that I have been playing Hurry Up and Wait lately. Its a Family Tradition, I'm afraid - the Scurrying and Worrying and Future Living. Instead of Relishing the Moments I found myself swept up in the Priorities of Others with a good dose of Meeting Others' Needs. No wonder I have but a few photos and a sore leg for my efforts.

My Studio remains untended. Best Intentions waylaid by the game....and yet another course of antibiotics. I suspect that there is a Connection between the months of feeling Cranky and Sick and my Avoidance of Making.

I did receive Book + Art by Dorothy Simpson Krause and am awaiting a Blurb copy of her artist book Losing Ground . Surely the Universe is sending me a Message....Losing Ground - yes, quite possibly.

The Heat

2009-06-18T08:00:00.002-05:00

Gardening like mad here, trying to beat The Heat which is forecast to arrive next week. Great Rains and Strong Storms have reduced the peonies to masses of soggy diapers...and second season Delphiniums to toppled Greek Columns....but the Lilies are coloring up and the Echinacea has many buds....Summer is Coming.
The best part about The Heat is that I can retreat to the coolness of The Studio. I mention that here only to spur some Accountability for my Intention. The Studio must be cleaned and sorted and arranged...its been two years too long since I let the Art out of my Head...the few dribs and drabs don't count...Time to Make is upon me.

In Search of a Tiny Adventure

2009-06-10T12:18:00.004-05:00

Wet and windy here but bloom perseveres....as do I. Still not quite 100% although the ennui that plagued me this year seems to be waning.
The Man and I marked our 24th year together and 10 years of marriage - nothing spectacular but the Full Moon.
Summer Heat is forecast for late next week which bodes well for the Vegetable Garden - transplanted and seeded and waiting for Warmth.
Treated myself to three popular artsy books and I can recommend one: Book + Art: Handcrafting Artists' Books by Dorothy Simpson Krause
http://www.amazon.com/Book-Art-Handcrafting-Artists-Books/dp/1600611540/ref=wl_it_dp?ie=UTF8&coliid=I1IH0OUHGH1OBT&colid=2HMK7JLIT4H7A
The artist/author never fails to intrigue me.

I think Intrigue is the element missing for me lately. I am a naturally curious sort (others mistake it for nosy-ness); the days have melted together in a Great Blob of Sameness. The Gardens give some respite but not enough. I need, at least, a Tiny Adventure.

Inspiration

2009-05-25T18:34:00.003-05:00

Despite the cold, wet, windy day today I headed to Hornbaker's Gardens for some inspiration and (limited) retail plant therapy. It was worth it although I was soaked and chilled to the bone - and, of course, I now feel a hypochondriac cold coming on.
Hornbakers is known for Iris, Daylilies and Hostas. Their display gardens are drool worthy.

It was a very long week and this brief escape was a tiny antidote.

Promise Kept

2009-05-20T06:10:00.003-05:00

We Midwesterners talk (i.e. complain) about the weather.... a lot. But the Truth is that we Live for the change of Seasons. Knowing simply that Things Will Change - that the Wheel turns - is often the only thing that ensures we get up each morning.
The rain has finally stopped here - great buckets of it - and the Gardens are starting to bloom. The Promise has been kept as evidenced by the giant egg of tree peony bloom in my garden. Oh yes, we have the daffs, the tulips, the common, but pretty. signs of Hope that poke out defiantly against the Snow and Wind. It is these few days in May when nights are cool to chilly and days are bright and Shiny that we Middle ones know that Life begins again.

I've been sick all year so far - a combination of exposure, bad pharmaceuticals, an absence of Good Practice, and a lethargy that allows me to complete the should do of paying job, laundry and daily chores but not the Must Do of creative introspection, soul satisfying contact and the wild abandon of making.

This month I taught a child to make her own book. I endured kind, but mostly patronizing, attention to my excitedly voiced creative ideas about Projects. I've day dreamed and night dreamed about making.....all a necessary prelude I guess.

Today the Oriole in the Orchard is calling to me: get up, get up, get up...begin again.

Letting It Be

2009-04-19T17:06:00.002-05:00

It's been the most dismal month...illness, loss, ennui. Today April rains are washing away Winter...each drop greens the landscape...a promise kept to Midwesterners each Spring.

I've accepted a new creative project for the coming year and Hope is inching back into my perspective. Windows have been thrown wide several days this week....the Robins are mating and the Cardinal sings his own praises. The Flock is laying again and the Gardens are starting to wake.

Spring

2009-03-20T11:02:00.001-05:00

The view across the back pasture...it's been an aggravating week but I suspect I'm to blame. Not working my plan....

Been

2009-03-15T13:32:00.002-05:00

the west pasture wasn't mowed last Fall...tall grass has been smoothed and shaped like modeling paste. Ephemeral but not really...just waiting for the Big Mower to wipe the field clean again. February is supposed to be the cruelest month but in the Midwest, it's March...frozen ground with pockets of mud...sunnier skies but scathing winds and flooding waters. Too cold to be outside most days without winter's gear but too stuffy and staid to be shut away indoors.

This is Where I'll BE

2009-02-10T20:29:00.002-06:00

Taking some time off - to thaw out, to rest up, to relax and recuperate... to refill the well.

The Wheel is turning and Spring will be here soon. Back in two weeks.

The Verb of Life

2009-01-27T15:05:00.001-06:00

I was, by all reports, an intractable child. Frequently *in trouble* for something or other – usually because I wanted to know why or be convinced that the task required was useful or necessary. Now, be assured, that my determined nature didn’t lead me down a path of truancy or dangerous habits etc. I was just – and continue to be – stubborn by nature. Case in point: in kindergarten (canyoubelieveit) I was punished for reading during naptime…scarred me for Life I tell you but made Reading all the more delicious.

So every New Year I set for myself the task of divining my intentions in the months ahead. Trying to balance my previously made choices with the True Desires of my Heart. Sounds sappy, eh?

The reason for this annual angst is that I am the Daughter of an Unfulfilled Mother. There oughta be a club…or a badge or something. And, since last week was my 52nd birthday and I found myself wallowing in a big bowl of angsty ennui, I thought perhaps I should REALLY figure out how to drop my membership in this Club.

Today is the anniversary of my Unfulfilled Mother’s Death: 02/24/36 – 01/27/04. Though she was sick for most of my 40’s, she was unhappy as long as I can recall. I’d rather not repeat her path but find myself doing much of the same. An intimate complains, usually during an unpleasant argument, that I’m “just like my mother” – yes, that is dirty fighting but I’ve come to believe it’s pretty much true. My Mother was a Poet (published) and wrote telling stories of her childhood and her parents’ childhood. She was a Master Gardener before there were Master Gardeners….She was a Dedicated Teacher all of her adult life…an Actress, a Singer, a Musician….and still unhappy…disappointed at the end. Unhappy with herself and, since I was the Oldest and within reach, Unhappy with me.

So, while I am grateful and appreciative for all that She gave me and cognizant of all the Lessons (good and bad) that she taught me, I don’t want to be her. In my quest to find The Answer to my dilemma, I ran across a new book: Life is a Verb by Patti Digh (http://www.37days.typepad.com/). Verbs are very high on my list (present tense ones, anyway) and the provocative titles of some of Digh’s essays call out to me (‘Unpack Your Boxes’ ‘Stop Doing the Insignificant Work in the World’ ‘Always Rent the Red Convertible’…). Maybe I’m just giving in to my impending Cronehood or manifesting my secret desire to be curmudgeonly but I don’t think so. That tenuous teeter totter of authenticity vs. inclusiveness (especially in groups that Really Don’t Matter) is a soul-sucking drain. And going along to get along is hardly the Active Verb I’m reaching for…

Anyway, I may buy Digh’s book for myself (and a friend) - an attempt to cancel my membership in the Daughters of Unfulfilled Mothers Club. Works with my Word of the Year deal too…

And, oh, I painted today!

These Things Are True

2009-01-20T13:07:00.002-06:00

"Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of citizenship."

President Barack Obama

January 20, 2009

Begin

2009-01-13T14:05:00.002-06:00

I realized today that I don't have to clean my studio rooms in order to start;

that I don't have to have my supplies organized;

that I am not required to make thumbnails or arrange a palette; check the color wheel or gather texture tools.

I don't have to make a work of Art with a capital A. I could just begin

Feast of Being

2009-01-05T12:15:00.002-06:00

Captured this shot at the dawn of the New Year…just as you see it (albeit a little cropping but no *shopping*). Raring to go on my year of *being*. The Universe got wind of my intention, apparently, and decided to test my resolve.

Nothing major, mind you, just the mundane, soul-sucking minutia of daily Life…work stuff, home stuff, people stuff…lots of stuff. No art stuff. And that seems to be a significant part of the problem with the resolution/intention stuff.

I decided I must Do Something (see Blog Post #1) and so I have signed up for this at Valley Ridge Art Studio (http://www.valleyridgeartstudio.com/)

(with special thanks to studio owner Kathy Malkasian for giving up her seat in the filled workshop to me…I may have sounded desperate)

The Golden Feast: A Sampling of Gritty Grounds, Seductive
Surfaces and Luminous Glazes
Instructor: Sandi
Bacon

This experience begins Friday evening with an optional two-hour product lecture
and overview of the Golden acrylic painting line. Learn a brief history of
acrylic paints from both a historic and a scientific perspective. We will
discuss kinds of paints, the difference between historic and modern colors, as
well as a demo of the full range of products. This program presents the
opportunity to really work with the Golden product line from start to
finish and create a variety of painting.
Saturday focuses on grounds and gels - inscribing, extruding, laying down “knockdown” finishes- the textural underpinnings of acrylic paints. Prepare surfaces from drawing grounds (micaceous iron oxide, fine pumice gel) to coarse pumice gel, crackle, and molding pastes, as well as working with direct and indirect transfers. and surface coats.
On Sunday, we’ll focus on creating layers, digital transfers,
sampling the new “open” line of paints and working with glazes, shading,
blending. . . the weekend promises to be an amazing chance to really learn to
work with all these products from start to finish.

Take THAT Universe…yes, I know it may sound nuts to drive hours on two lane highways through Illinois and Wisconsin by myself in the dead of a Midwestern Winter but the gauntlet has been thrown…

My birthday is the following week and this year, instead of patiently waiting for Someone Else to mark the day, I’ve decided to plan my own festivities…to mark the fact that I’ve made it past the half century point, banged and bruised, but not broken. Gonna do it, gonna BE.

The Word: BE

2009-01-02T08:07:00.002-06:00

The Universe in the form of Uncle Rob (http://www.freewillastrology.com/horoscopes/aquarius.html

Aquarius Horoscope for week of January 1, 2009), called out to me this morning.
I'd been struggling with my Word for 2009....

What should my word Be?
Who would I Be in 2009?
....How could I Be a more authentic Me in 2009?

well, duh....

I've got three quotes for you. I hope you'll write them out and keep them in a prominent place for the duration of 2009. They'll set the right tone for everything you do. The first is from psychologist Abraham Maslow: "A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What one can be, one must be." The second quote comes from choreographer Agnes DeMille: "Dance in the body you have." The third is from historian Gerald Sorin: "When Reb Zusye went to heaven, God didn't ask him why, in his life on earth, Zusye wasn't Moses, but why he wasn't even Zusye."

December Views: Last View

2008-12-31T16:33:00.000-06:00

:: summing up 2008 ::

december views: 12.29.08

2008-12-29T09:51:00.001-06:00

:: first sign of Spring ::

december views 12.27.08

2008-12-27T14:20:00.000-06:00

:: melting::

december views: 12.21.08

2008-12-21T13:08:00.001-06:00

:: current temperature at 1:00pm: -2 degrees; -28 degrees windchill ::

:: barn chores must be done ::

december views: 12.19.08

2008-12-19T11:07:00.000-06:00

:: trying harder ::

december views: 12.18.08

2008-12-19T08:28:00.001-06:00

:: trying ::

december views: 12.16.08

2008-12-16T16:59:00.000-06:00

:: between the storms ::

december views: 12.15.08

2008-12-15T20:18:00.000-06:00

:: nostalgia ::

december views: 12.11.08

2008-12-12T08:10:00.000-06:00

:: a very blue day ::

December Views: 12.10.08

2008-12-10T20:00:00.000-06:00

::time is on my side::

yes, it is

BLEAK

2008-12-10T07:26:00.001-06:00

The News is bleak, the Sky is Bleak...and I think my laptop screen just died.....is it Spring soon?

december views: 12.09.08

2008-12-09T20:55:00.001-06:00

Windshield or The Bug

2008-12-08T15:02:00.007-06:00

Remember that Mary Chapin Carpenter song, The Bug from her 1992 album Come On, Come On?

(Edited to add that Susan (http://optimisticvoices.blogspot.com) correctly credits Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits as song author - Susan's blog, Optimistic Voices, is a daily must stop for music, poetry and inspiration)

Well it's a strange old game
you learn it slow
One step forward and it's back you go
You're standing on the throttle
You're standing on the brake
In the groove 'til you make a mistake

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love

Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all

You gotta know happy - you gotta know glad
Because you're gonna know lonely
And you're gonna know sad
When you're rippin' and you're ridin'
And you're coming on strong
You start slippin' and slidin'
And it all goes wrong because

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug
Sometimes it all comes together baby
Sometimes you're just a fool in love

Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger
Sometimes you're the ball
Sometimes it all comes together
Sometimes you're gonna lose it all

One day you got the glory and then you got none
One day you're a diamond and then you're a stone
Everything can change in the blink of an eye
So let the good times roll before we say goodbye because

Sometimes you're the windshield
Sometimes you're the bug....

That’s the way it’s been lately…maybe it’s The Season or The Weather or the quickly descending New Year…dunno. But I’m itching to get back on track…pick-up the Purge where I left off and prepare to meet my 52nd Year.

I’ve been participating in the December Views project (Find out more about December Views at http://djkreutzer.com/moments/december-views) which will explain all the Photo Bombing I’ve been doing. But, of course I miss the Words and adding my $.02 to every Subject.

Back to The Bug, though…I think my intention for 2009 will be to Be The Windshield….secure in the Knowledge that whatever angst or atrophy or aggravation gets the Full Wiper Treatment…and whatever interesting odd spots and intriguing bits that survive on Impact will be lovingly preserved…and used in an Art Project…

(Read more about Mary Chapin Carpenterhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Chapin_Carpenter)

December Views: 12.08.08

2008-12-08T15:00:00.001-06:00

December Views: 12.07.08

2008-12-08T14:57:00.000-06:00

December views: 12.06.08

2008-12-07T09:37:00.000-06:00

december views 12.05.08

2008-12-05T17:55:00.002-06:00

December Views: 12.04.08

2008-12-05T05:05:00.000-06:00

December Views: 12.03.08

2008-12-03T21:30:00.003-06:00

(Find out more about December Views at http://djkreutzer.com/moments/december-views)

Finding Beauty

2008-11-30T17:48:00.003-06:00

For many years in the '80's and '90's, when I was pretending to be Mary Tyler Moore, sailing my hat into the air in front of the brand new State of Illinois Building, I had Bag Lady Syndrome.

Many of my clients were tiny wizened widows or spinsters (what an unattractive word) who found themselves without family, isolated or pre-deceased by friends, and squirreled away in tiny bag-filled apartments in the Big City. I vowed I would escape this fate and I did when I Bought The Farm (another story for another time). So it was with some trepidation that I went to see the current exhibit at Intuit Gallery, Finding Beauty: The Art of Lee Godie.

The Artist Lee Godie – and that is how she referenced herself, protecting her past and privacy – is possibly the most celebrated (and believed to be the most collected) street artist in Chicago. She hawked her art on the steps of the Art Institute; considered the stoops and the doorways in the Loop and Near North to be her home and studio and exalted herself above Cezanne since she, of course, was a (self-proclaimed) French Impressionist.

What fascinates me most about Godie’s work is her altered photo booth self-portraits…she re-invented herself in each one assuming the Godie-esque persona of a popular public figure or an easily identifiable icon. The Intuit Gallery exhibit includes her selected journal entries which are insightful and belie the customary Bag Lady archetype. Godie’s art marketing skills were legendary. Many of her methods - both artistic and entrepreneurial - are the stuff of art and art business blogs today...she was obviously a woman way ahead of her time and place. And the Mother of Re-Invention - a chronic topic in today's female world.

Godie died in 1994 at the home of the daughter she had abandoned years earlier after the death of a child (children?) and the failure of her marriage. I remember hearing about her in the ‘80’s but was too wrapped up in my Bag Lady Phobia to recognize the lessons her Life had to teach me. I suspect that if she were alive today Lee Godie would already be on to the Next Big Thing.

Finding Beauty: The Art of Lee Godie runs through January 3, ’09.

Road Trip

2008-11-26T10:11:00.011-06:00

Headed out last Thursday on a Road Trip…it had been a long week and Escape was necessary. Not to be completely cavalier, I did have some specific plans including errands and a mini gallery hop.

Impulsively I’d purchased a little pocket camera the day before and anticipated some DWS action (Driving While Shooting)…resulting photos are odd and unspectacular but outcome wasn’t the point…just the Doing.

Stopped at Vogue Fabrics…always a sensory pleasure and then considered treating myself to lunch at Manny’s. No available parking and I can’t quite grasp the concept of valet parking at my old lunch spot…it’s just wrong. Had I been a day later I would have seen this:

Sigh.

Then off to find the Milwaukee Arts Corridor and two galleries of interest: Woman Made (http://www.womanmade.org/) and Intuit: The Center for Intuitive and Outsider Art (http://www.art.org/). Again with the no parking and it started to snow…winds gusting between gangways and street numbers hidden by uppy yuppy gentrification.

Found Intuit…lovely space (no interior photos of course) with three exhibits (Lee Godie – Finding Beauty; Sunday Painters Discarded Paintings by Gifted Amateurs; and the Henry Darger Room Collection) and a pre-occupied gallery attendant who seemed annoyed that I asked a question. More about Lee Godie in my next post.

Trudged on to Woman Made and was met nearly at the door by gallery personnel who wanted to know the purpose of my visit. Seems they were “between shows” so I offered to leave but was allowed to weave my way through boxes and cleaning supplies to view art that wasn’t identified by maker. The guy mopping floors was pleasant though.

So there wasn’t much art hopping this trip but it was an exercise in letting go of the outcome…I went, I saw, I did.

Unusual Tag

2008-11-26T09:58:00.003-06:00

Artist Mary Buek (http://marybuekart.blogspot.com/) tagged me to reveal five unusual things about me….gasp….
I am quite boring I suppose but after half a century there ought to be something I can list:

1. at age 39 (and a half) I bought the Farm…literally. A smallholding of just under six acres in northwestern Illinois. I have a flock of chickens, 3 goats, cats, dogs and, in 1999 I married again and got a husband….

2. as a teenager in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s I fully expected to be an investigative reporter a la Woodward and Bernstein…my undergrad training was in journalism and I worked for some regional newspapers after college. I wasn’t Woodward or Bernstein.

3. Since I began driving (eons ago) nearly all my vehicles have been RED…I suspect it stems from the self-propelled red car I got one childhood Christmas….I have an unnatural attachment to red cars…my tractor is green, though.

4. for much of my adult life I’ve had a fear of being destitute – crudely referred to as Bag Lady Syndrome. As a result I struggle with overly responsible behavior (fear) and a great longing to indulge in spontaneous serendipity. Probably explains my current creative block…

5. My two primary passions are Art and Gardening. I have themed gardens at theFarm with wandering paths and blowsy plantings. And a wonderful 3 room (almost four) studio packed with treasures sadly ignored.

So…nothing especially extraordinary about me...feel free to play along.

Past Due Account

2008-11-16T22:18:00.004-06:00

Everything remotely art related was set to the side this week. Work, family illness, obligation and impending Winter all conspired to keep me away from the studio. Last minute plans to show some work at a public venue evaporated – a nice idea, perhaps, but the timing just wasn’t right.

No drive by shooting this week, no doodling, no reflection, no day dreaming. I find it a little disturbing how easily that resolve to revive my creative practice fell victim to mundane responsibilities.... But I am grateful for those responsibilities because it means that I have a job, a home and a family when others have lost all. Humbling.

SO…if all goes well this week, or at least better, I’m planning a little private creative escape on Thursday: image making, fabric fondling, window shopping; wandering and wondering. Making a deposit in my creativity account – making sure I pay myself first this week….

oh...I should mention that I got a *new to me* flock of hens this week....my coop is nearly full!

Floating

2008-11-09T09:18:00.003-06:00

What a week this has been: Hope and History; Endings and Beginnings. I find myself floating on Euphoria with just a slight tinge of Fear remaining – too much TV I’m sure.

We had one last day of Autumn here in NW Illinois this week…record breaking temps in the 70’s – remnants of Mother’s colors swirled in gentle breezes on the Day After…a gift from the Universe. We played hooky from responsibility and spent the afternoon high above the Mississippi River…capturing images and scuffling through leaf carpets. I gathered a bag of leaves to take home – a later project?

Thursday brought Reality in the form of snow flurries and plunging temperatures….reminders of what isn’t done and what needs to be done both in My Life and in Our World.

I have an opportunity to show some art work – the deadline is looming (11/17) and my resolve to step away from my Comfort Zone is wavering…then I think this is something all of us must do…take a chance, believe in possibility, trust the process.

Float above the Fear.

Voting For Hope

2008-11-04T14:27:00.003-06:00

Morning Poem
by Mary Oliver

Every morning the world is created.

Under the orange sticks of the sun
the heaped ashes of the night turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear like black cloth on which are painted islands
of summer lilies.

If it is your nature to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
for hours,
your imagination alighting everywhere.

And if your spirit carries within it
the thorn that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do to keep on trudging ---
there is still somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted ---
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered lavishly, every morning,

whether or not you have ever dared to be happy,

whether or not you have ever dared to pray.

Filling the Bowl

2008-11-03T07:01:00.004-06:00

This week was all about color (well, it was about work and stress and money and chores too but…). We’re having a few precious days of Indian Summer…that temperature tease right before the winds of Winter storm through and erase all trace of orange red gold green. Sunrises of sharp yellow tinged with indigo and fuchsia – setting suns, hazed with golden corn dust from the harvest, sinking to inky black way too early in the day.

I saw the bowls lined up on the next hayrack…the auctioneer had already plowed through the old humidifiers, broken clay pots, carefully coiled but long forgotten garden hoses. And a rack full of ‘lesser smalls’….agonizing repetitions of “$2.50 now – box for one money”. The owner, an older lady in a wheelchair, sat placidly, nodding and smiling to well-wishers, seeming oblivious to the steady stream of her possessions heading to new homes, new uses. I was waiting for the boxes of books…a Goode’s Illustrated Atlas of 1922, old copies of the American Heritage Dictionary….items I didn’t need but convinced myself were worth waiting for as I inhaled a boiled hotdog from the Poor Boys Catering truck. I thought about the bowls and wondered what they held in previous years…probably not fancy enough for the Sunday dinner table but surely used to mix pancake batter or cookie dough or biscuits for gravy.

I’m still working on filling my bowl…gathering images, recording the colors, day dreaming about making again…

Still...Life

2008-10-26T17:24:00.004-05:00

I rushed out of the house today and left the camera sitting on the table…no time to stop and shoot anyway since the word this week is “late”.

I did manage to clear some of the wreckage from the studio rooms but not enough to motivate me to make. A bit of day dreaming this week produced some jewelry ideas…and two books I’ve been incubating (3Jims and Notebook Summer) are almost fixed in my head.

The power has been out for a couple of hours – winds are gusting to 50 mph and all the colored leaves are blowing across combined corn fields. Temperatures are due to drop into the 20’s and winterizing chores aren’t done here at the Farm.

Re-reading my dog eared copy of Twyla Tharp’s The Creative Habit and realizing how many boxes of project ideas I’ve accumulated – noting well the author’s admission that not all ideas get born or manifest as originally imagined.

Stopped for my weekly gasoline fill-up today, the wind whipping my hair into old-school Chaka Khan proportions….the sign said Pay First. The 20-something at the register said I could run the credit card for a fixed amount and that if I didn’t use it all the card would only be credited for the amount I pumped. He saw I was unsure and quickly offered to ring up a new receipt if I came back in after pumping the gas. I looked at him and muttered, “No thanks…we’ve got to start trusting each other some time.” He patted my hand. As I sailed out the door back into the wind I hollered "The Revolution is Coming!" He answered back, “You got that right!”

Still…Life

The Kaizen of It All

2008-10-20T07:44:00.003-05:00

There’s nothing like a New Plan to spur flagging energy – to invigorate imagination and intention. At least that’s what I always believe. Years of training in Choice Theory (http://wglasser.com/) as a basis for Reality Therapy work with disabled clients reinforces and often justifies my constantly questioning, insistently curious (some say abnormally nosy) personality. I just wanna know stuff. Lately, though, my Plan To Get More of What I Want is flagging.

Case in point: I want to Make Art. In order to do that I have a Plan. My Plan enumerates three basic tasks that, if practiced consistently, should get me closer to my art making goal:

Work in a Clean Studio
Spend 30 minutes every day making images
Reinforce my picture of myself as an Artist

So….I’ve been doing that ….doggedly almost. Yesterday I did my requisite thirty minutes of image making (more drive-by shooting after church at nearly 12 noon) and I cleared a significant portion of the Big Studio Room and I’ve been blogging pretty regularly and telling people (who ask “what do you do?”) that (whispering) I’m an Artist (or Photographer, or Maker or whichever/whatever seems to fit in the conversation easily).

It isn’t Working. And that’s where the Kaizen of It All comes in….Loosely translated, Kaizen is Japanese for continuous improvement. First coined in Japan’s WWII financial recovery efforts and closely associated with Dr. William Edward Deming’s PDSA system (Plan, Do, Study, Act; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._Edwards_Deming) , Kaizen requires a critical examining eye….not dogged adherence to the plan. No “robots making robots” according to Deming: no photo shooting for the sake of photo shooting according to me.

I found myself searching for images yesterday just so I could take a photo – make a picture. And I found myself trying to cram the activity into the hour drive home from church because I had Important Plans for my day. And so I got what I planned…poor, unsatisfying shots of trite subjects in harsh mid-day light. No joy of discovery, no curious wandering, no curling kernel of joy and awe that good process can bring…

So today I will improve my plan and add thirty minutes of Day Dreaming….letting my mind wander to the what ifs and how comes and let’s see ifs that Kai (change) and Zen (wisdom) can reveal.

Door Number ?

2008-10-17T08:03:00.003-05:00

Each morning, in that before Dawn time after the first cuppa and before the second, I think about going down to my studio. Haven’t been there since the Big Block began in May ’07. I find every reason and every excuse to avoid the Real Problem….the fact that I allowed a few offhand, poorly articulated remarks to stall me in my tracks. And the longer I avoid, procrastinate, postpone, the harder it gets to Start.

Pretending that my photo shooting is a reasonable alternative to Making Art isn’t quite working…and then there’s the whole Capitol Letter Art thing too.

I have a really nice studio set-up having commandeered the entire basement of this old farm house. There’s the Jewelry Room with a variety of hand and machine tools, a kiln I’ve never turned on, bins and boxes and barrels of supplies and stuff. Then there’s the Painting/Paper Room…to which I added a dedicated sewing area. And a third room, The Art Lounge which holds my big collection of books both best-selling artsy books and stacks of really old books for collage materials (I can still justify hauling home those two sets of early 1900's Encyclopedia Britannia from the Library Sale). Plus a comfy chair, the TV and a stereo to blast old Aretha and new Lonely Boys…

Of course all three Studio Rooms are nearly impassable at this point….I joke about being able to shop at home for art supplies of all types. I could. I’ve long passed the allowable period of Acquisition and I guess that’s where I stopped.

I need to get started again. Do something other than admire the colors of farm eggs or hang from car windows catching shots and scaring other drivers. I need to open the door and dive back in….

Chair Artist

2008-10-13T07:09:00.003-05:00

Sundays are my days for drive-by shooting (don’t be offended by the terminology – I’ve learned we must take back and own our words).

I was flying down Route 92 when I spied a sign: WEDDING. Red block letters on a white placard with red arrow pointing down a dirt lane. I couldn’t resist and yanked the car over to the shoulder, angling out the window for a good shot. Traffic was steady in both directions so I hoisted myself out the open window and splayed myself against the side of the car…got it!

A few miles down the road I spotted another sign. Red block letters, the arrow: AUCTION. Irresistible. I ran to the registrar, shoving my driver’s license across the shelf and quickly grabbed my auction number printed in red block letters: 204. The auction was nearly over and I quickly bid on a sad looking candelabra. A shade-less floor lamp was thrown in to sweeten the deal. Sold! $7.00. The faux painted library table with odd cantilevered drawer soared to $160.00. Time to stop bidding and start shooting.

I wandered with my camera, nodding to neighbors and acquaintances. Afternoon sun streaming into the auction barn lit the rows and rows of chairs next up on the auction block: pressed back, round back, colonial, kitchen. Dusty and hard used, they had a certain beauty.

Heading to pay for my purchases I gifted a neighbor with the floor lamp she had admired; swapping it for photos of her finds: an old piece of found molding and the carved pediment once topping a dresser. Another woman stopped to chat and said, “You’re the one I saw on the road taking pictures. I thought you were a trooper!” We all visited for a while, me continuing to snap random shots. The woman asked, “Why are you taking all these photos?”

“I’m an Artist.”

All Our Eggs in One Basket.....

2008-10-09T22:34:00.004-05:00

I cannot listen to the news anymore (although I am). I spent a good part of today cleaning and filling and organizing my cabinets and pantry – my mind recalling grandparents’ stories and admonitions.

But tomorrow I will take a break and splurge on gasoline to drive to the Big City suburbs to see some art and hear and feel a creative spark. I must clean and fill and organize my creative mind as well.

The eggs in the photograph are from my small flock of hens...the colors and shape never fail to soothe me....

Engaged Surrender

2008-10-05T16:55:00.002-05:00

Abandoned Church - Springhill Road 10/05/08

I pass abandoned rural churches each Sunday as I drive to and from my Unitarian Fellowship. It’s a long drive requiring two passes over the Mississippi River…coming and going. I’m frequently late or at least in a hurry to get there or get back. Today I stopped and photographed this church and reflected on the topic of the sermon I’d just heard: True Surrender – Engaged Surrender.

This church, denomination long forgotten, was surely, I thought, the quintessential surrender….so close to the road it must have survived many years of Progress. No longer a meeting place – no worshipping here anymore; probably numerous incarnations (antique store? community center?), now overgrown with cracked broken windows, some boarded, some with foxed shades fluttering. In Late Summer it’s overgrown with weedy trees and farm field volunteers from across the road – veiling it in a green/gold haze. In Late Winter it stands stark and still against cold skies and frozen puffs of breath.

During our morning reflection, the Reverend included the example of a painter who reminded that when we paint there are a lot of people in the studio: teachers, critics, family, friends, patrons and viewers. And that when we really paint all of those people walk out of our studio….and when we really REALLY paint, we walk out of the studio too. Surrendering to the process…and not to the product. Engaged in the doing but letting go of the outcome.

So today I began creating again… I did something and made images….and I am letting go of the outcome. I surrender.

The Whole Package

2008-10-04T11:27:00.003-05:00

My dear friend M called for a nice rambling chat yesterday and somehow we got on the subject of packaging…what prompted it may have been our discussion about paring our household budgets or the economic bail-out/rescue package and preparing for desperate times ahead. Not sure. Our talk segued into the packaging of politicians and my realization that, as a Society, we are slaves to the exterior. Doesn’t seem to matter what’s in the package…what treasures or insights or nightmares wait. Whether it’s a wink or a flip platitude, we’re mesmerized by the appearance of the person, place or thing. We can convince ourselves of nearly anything if it immediately looks good or superficially meets our perceived values. Even in our current Green evolution the Package is paramount… reduced packaging is Good, we say, regardless of the means, the methods or the motives that propel it. And in our Art, we pronounce it Good when wings, crowns or preserved carcasses are the current fashion.

So…last night I dreamed of packages and on this morning’s ramble through the gardens, I found myself looking at Nature’s packaging. The apples are ready for picking in the Orchard – and I know this because as I cut through the layers of necessary packaging (peel, pulp, core) I found dark brown seeds (another package) confirming ripeness. In the Herb Garden, spared by last night’s plunging temperatures, I found the complex seed heads from spent Italian Parsley and little buttoned seed pods of August Cosmos and Calendulas not quite ready for harvest. Poppies in the English Garden have given way to stiff pods of intricate engineering…the seeds already scattered on northeast breezes.

Back inside I began today’s bread baking with my eye and mind acutely tuned to every package of ingredient – the waxed paper wrapper of butter sticks with expertly sharp folded corners; the combination of colors on the olive oil label; the amber glass of the yeast jar and silvery steel of flour canisters. And it left me…..flat. The fleeting visual pull of mark and color just isn’t enough. I need more.

It isn’t enough to simply look at the Visual; I need the feel of crisp butter wrapper pulling away from slick yellow forms. The undeniable smell of warmed yeast, sugar and water. The tactile puff of flour clouds rising over filled measuring cups. The sound of wooden spoon slapping against my grandmother’s crockery bread bowl. The slide and squeak of well pummeled dough. The hiss of sticky cold ice cubes meeting the hot oven floor. The smell and sight of lifting loaves. Hollow thumps, cracking crusts as cold butter and sticky cinnamon apple spread over light, fluffy pulls of dough – the bread is done. I need it all: the sight, sound, smell, and touch in order to fully understand the taste.

And that’s what I want my Life to be…the full spectrum of senses in every bite. Going beyond the first visual Package jolt. In the Garden, at my Studio table, and in my World. I won’t settle for just the Visual. I need it all.

Do Something

2008-10-03T06:46:00.003-05:00

"Do nothing and nothing gets done. Do something and many
things are placed in motion. Regardless of what you are doing in life, you need to take action. Do something every day to put your plan in motion." (unknown)

My new motto...do something - anything.
Begin. I've suffered through a self-imposed creative block for over a year now.
Convincing myself that doing nothing was preferable to
artistic somethings - attempts to
fit in with creative fads.
Today's something is an agreement with my
creative self to begin carrying my camera with me most of the time. No excuses about its awkward weight and worrisome cost. And to ramp up the volume of shots
- it's a digital camera so it's not like I'm wasting
supplies. >

Just
Shoot.

Beginning

2008-10-02T23:16:00.001-05:00

Autumn is always a beginning for me...a fresh box of fancy crayons. A season to start again...to feel my way again. And so, a blog. About beginnings. Today my Note from the Universe said

Act the part, act the part.
You will make art.
It's a done deal.

Actually, I've already sent out the party
invitations.
Act the part,

The Universe

and so I will.