Why I Love Yard Sales

For most of my adult life, I've been shopping at yard sales and thrift stores. I hate to shop in "real" stores, especially at malls. I make it a practice never to enter the big box called W@l M#^t - the idea is repugnant. I would guess that at least 75% of what I've bought as an adult (excluding food, of course) has been what is now euphemistically called "previously owned". This goes for my household goods, furniture, clothing, gardening stuff, and so much more.

Thanks to the return of good weather and the gorgeous, sunny days, the yard sale season is now upon us! This morning, while walking Zuma, I came upon a neighborhood sale where I bought this box of pastels for 50 cents! These days, I'm always looking for art supplies. At the local art store, this box of pastels would cost close to $30. Did I score?? You betcha!

I love yard sales for lots of reasons, not just the bargains. I really believe in recycling things. I love the adventure of finding the hidden treasures in somebody else's pile of trash. I enjoy the anthropological aspect of yard sales, seeing how people live and what kinds of artifacts they keep or discard. I enjoy meeting people in the neighborhood, doing a little artful haggling, and all while being outdoors, in the sunshine and fresh air, while getting a little exercise too.

My friend DPR wrote a wonderful post this week about recycling, GIGO, Garbage In Garbage Out. Some parts of the country have it SO together, and the Pacific Northwest is one of them. Another we experienced last year is Massachusetts. While visiting family and friends, we went to a dump/recycling center on Martha's Vineyard (and heard about another on Cape Cod). They have little "shops" set up where people bring a few things, and take a few things, free of charge. Business was booming in both the in and out direction. Picture the "bargain barn" of Santa Cruz for free! Wow!

So don't ever ask me to go shopping with you at the mall.....

What We Want

Poem: "What We Want," by Linda Pastan, from Carnival Evening.
W.W. Norton. Reprinted this morning on The Writer's Almanac

What We Want

What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names—
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.


Painting by Karen Kucharski

Red Rice

One of my favorite things to eat is a simple dish Daniella taught me to make. She calls it "red rice". It is easy and delicious, so watch out! You, too, might get hooked. Here's how simple it is.

Ingredients:
Short grain Brown rice
Olive Oil
Tamari (soy sauce)
Cayenne Pepper
Avocado

Cook some brown rice, however much you like to have around. You can keep it in the fridge, tightly covered, for quite a while. When you want to eat a bowl of it, warm up a serving or two. Toss the warm rice with some extra virgin olive oil (be generous), some tamari (to taste), some cayenne pepper (the "red" part) to taste (be cautious), and then some cut up avocado (be generous). Voila! It's ready to eat. You may need a little salt, depending on how much tamari you used. This is good for breakfast, lunch or dinner.

Seeking the perfect cup of CHAI

I'm not a coffee drinker, and never have been. I just don't like the taste of it, and the few times I've had to drink it were torturous. When I lived in Italy, and visited people in their homes, I was given coffee routinely and told "Senora, mi fa offesa" if I refused it (rough translation, "it offends me - hurts my feelings - if you don't drink it"). They always gave me the coffee in the tiny expresso cups, black as pitch, with the little spoon standing nearly straight up in the thick gunk. I remember how drinking that coffee made me jittery, on edge, shaky, and feeling awful. That was the last of it. But I do have a morning fix. I love Chai! For those of you not familiar with it, chai is a hot drink based on black tea and a variety of aromatic spices, mixed with milk and honey. It's yummy, the ultimate comfort drink. Fortunately, living in Santa Cruz, one can always get a great cup of chai. Still, I'm always on the hunt for the perfect cup of chai, no matter where I go.

My favorite is Sun Chai, manufactured right here in Santa Cruz. It is exactly right - sweet, but not too sweet, plenty spicy, deep and flavorful. Many of the coffee shops around here use it, fortunately. The chai made by Staff of Life is also quite good. Malabar Trading Company sells a packet of black tea and chai spices so that you can brew your own. My favorite of their brands is Kashmiri Chai, but they have several other varieties. For me, the worst is Oregon Chai. It comes in boxes, and is so sticky sweet, and non-spicy. Let's just say that, if I'm desperate for a cup of chai and what's on offer is Oregon Chai, I'll pass. There are many other brands, and I've explored some of them but not all. We're coming up on summer, so for chai lovers like me there is also the possibility of having iced chai, or even a chai shake.

But here's my ultimate: Mocha Chai. Find your favorite chai and add chocolate to it, either cocoa or chocolate syrup. Make sure that the chocolate is as good in quality as the chai. Mmmmmm, now you're in heaven. What could be better?? Fortunately my quest continues.....

End of Life Drawing Class

Monday night was our last life drawing class with a model. Our teacher this semester, Noah Buchanan, has been just outstanding. His lectures on anatomy were beautifully illustrated, and amply rich in depth and detail. He had such a broad and deep grasp of the subject matter, and always kept it interesting. The class was very challenging, highly focused, and each week demanded more of us in understanding how to portray the human body. Noah played great music while we were drawing too! Here's my last drawing for the class.

Painting Class Wind-Up

This week is the last one for my Beginning Painting class at the community college, so I've spent a lot of time at the easel. A couple of weeks ago I posted my first attempt at a figure painting, and expressed my unhappiness with some parts of the painting. So I've been re-painting that one. Here is the new version, before and then after repainting. She's much happier with her doggie next to her!


For our final assignment, we were given a list of about 30 fairly contemporary painters and asked to pick one of them to study and then to emulate. We were not to copy one of their paintings, but to try and understand their style, and then make our own painting to the best of our ability using things we learned about that painter. Since I've been so involved with drawing the body this semester, I knew I wanted to do more figure painting. Aiming high, I picked the great Richard Diebenkorn to be my muse, and have been reading books about him, staring at his amazing paintings, and trying to channel his style, given that I'm a rank beginner. Just for fun, here is what I came up with, using a drawing from my life drawing class and then abstracting it into this painting. I'll show you the drawing, then the painting....

I Am, I Want, I Wish

(Painting by Xenia Hausner)

Taken from TaraDharma, who took it from SassyFemme, who took it from Syd, who took it from KMae, who took it from Suburban Lesbian, who took it from...

I AM sitting in a bright room, on the fifth floor of a new building, looking out into the tops of redwood trees. It's beginning to rain....

I WANT it all – passion, creativity, love, dogs, laughter, fearlessness into old age!

I WISH that women were in charge of everything, and men were just there to work out the technical details and do the heavy lifting (sorry guys).

I HATE the depressing and staggering incompetence of the Bush administration.

I MISS the carefree body of my youth, all strength and vigor. I miss the sweetness of mothering young children.

I FEAR religious extremism, Christian, Islamic, or whatever. I fear our government and the ominous direction it is taking.

I HEAR poorly and wear one hearing aid. It works out great at night, however. If I sleep with my good ear on the pillow, I hear nothing!

I WONDER what kind of an artist I will become, and how I will find my artistic pathway given all the amazing choices I could make.

I REGRET never having been an athlete.

I AM NOT alone, almost never, and I have almost never been alone, what with growing up in a big family, living in dorms in college, having serial relationships, raising children, working. I often wonder what it would be like to be alone. Would I be the same person or somebody completely different??

I DANCE self-consciously and rarely.

I SING along with some favorite “oldies” when nobody is listening.

I CRY in the movies, or reading great books, or when someone hurts my feelings.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: drawings, paintings, books, my garden, some pretty great food.

I WRITE a blog when I can fit it in, poems on occasion, and rants when I’m crying and upset.

I CONFUSE food and love. Don’t ask! I don’t confuse food and sex, however…

I NEED lots of time to myself, quiet, unscheduled time.

I SHOULD (and mostly have stopped) "should-ing" on myself!

I START my days early with tea and vitamins, reading the paper, doing the crossword puzzle, walking the dog, eating yogurt and fruit.

I FINISH everything on my plate, most often, leaving nothing for the starving children in Armenia.

I'M GLAD when I'm in nature, hearing birds sing, feeling the sunshine and wind, walking on beaches.

I LIVE within walking distance of just about everything I need.

I PRAY - no usually I don't.

I SEEK the perfect cup of chai.

I WOULD RATHER slow down and take all the winding back roads, even get lost, to avoid having to travel on freeways.

I PREFER not to waste time and energy on regretting the past. Been there, done that, got the T shirt.

I KNOW how to live with the cup half full, how to make lemonade when life gives you lemons, and how to keep your sunny side up.

I MUST HAVE: Chocolate. Books. The New Yorker. Friends. Laughter. The internet. Movies. Trees.

I HOPE for a better world for us all. And soon!

Pinnacles - More Photos

Johna sent a bunch of photo links, showing some of the places we walked in the dark. The first one is where I had the biggest meltdown, standing at the bottom of this stairway looking up and up at the steps and handrails above, just dimly visible against the moonlit sky! You've got to be kidding! Be sure to look at the whole set of photos on this first link.

http://www.molenda.us/photos/pinnacles-2002-04-07/b_019_16a-l.html

http://www.molenda.us/photos/pinnacles-2002-04-07/b_027_24a-r.html

http://www.mishalov.net/pinnacles-21mar04/pictures/img_2176.html

http://www.nationalparksgallery.com/item/3834/park/Pinnacles-National-Monument/type/pictures

http://www.nationalparksgallery.com/item/3835

Moonlight Hike in the Pinnacles

I've never thought of myself as an extreme adventure sports type of person... not even close! Imagine my surprise to find myself inadvertently becoming one for a few crazy hours this past weekend?! To celebrate my dear friend Johna's birthday we signed up for a moonlight hike in the Pinnacles National Monument, a couple of hours away from here. I paid no attention at all to the details, and had this gauzy picture in my mind of us out in some beautiful meadow, walking around in the moonlight for an hour or so, looking at the rock formations (I'd never been there), and then going home. My first clue that something might be amiss was arriving to meet the rest of the hikers and noticing that all of them, except for the three of us, were wearing serious hiking boots. We were in our sneakers. Hmmmmm.....

After a one hour drive on a dirt road, up some mountains, across a spectacular old cattle ranch, and down into the Pinnacles Monument, we arrived at about 8:45 pm, and the hike started at 9pm. Our guide gave us little information (it turns out that everyone else had hiked this trail before and knew what was ahead, except for us). She told us to use flashlights as little as possible, to stay quiet, and she assigned somebody to bring up the end of the group. Oh, and she mentioned that we would be walking 5 miles. Five miles??!! Holy smokes! Off we went, in the deep darkness, up a trail - yes, up, for the next 3 hours we went UP. The first hour or more was very dark. The moon didn't rise until about 10. It soon became apparent that this was much more than a hike - it was also a climb. We started walking along cliff faces, inching around narrow ledges, and eventually climbing up vertical rocks using toe-holds and hand rails to keep us from hurtling off into the deep canyons below us. It was steep and narrow. I have a fair amount of vertigo, fear of heights, and my hands were sweating, heart pounding, legs shaking like bands of cooked spaghetti. I've never had panic attacks, but I think I got a sense of how one might happen. My pals Rosemary and Johna were fantastic, encouraging me and comforting me every step of the way. I think we climbed 1500-1800 feet that night, in the dark, slipping and sliding along the cliff faces. Breathe, I kept telling myself, breathe - but it wasn't a naturally occuring process at that moment!

I'll have to admit, when I had the courage to look anywhere but at my feet, it was gorgeous. If you want to see spectacular geological formations, Pinnacles National Monument may be the place for you. Millions of years ago east of Salinas, an ancient volcano rumbled and spewed, earthquakes split and moved the tortured terrain, and erosion further carved or smoothed its features. The result was a wild landscape sculpted with spires and steep canyons, marked with caves, and traversed by talus passages. The Civilian Conservation Corps built many miles of trails during the 1930s. They constructed “pigeon hole” steps to ascend the dramatic escarpments and installed handrails (but didn’t overdo it) along high ledges. Here's a quote from a web site that I should have considered reading before going on this hike: "While walkers wary of heights might want to hike elsewhere, those not predisposed to acrophobia will relish the adventure of hiking into the High Peaks area".

A highlight of the "hike" was seeing a group of about five giant California condors roosting in a tree near the top of the High Peaks. One was close enough that his glistening pink scalp was clearly visible in the moonlight. A hiker who had night-scope binoculars could read the tattooed number on the condor's shoulder (these have all been born in captivity and then released to the wild, since they are so endangered).

But best of all was getting to the end of the hike, at 2 am, when we stumbled into the parking lot and prepared for our 2 hour ride home (thanks Johna for heroic driving after all that!). We were so pumped with adrenaline that it took hours to feel tired. We laughed so much on the way home, exhilirated at having survived this wild adventure. We did it! WOW! So many times I thought of just giving up, collapsing into a sobbing pile of trembling protoplasm beside the trail, and letting whatever wild animals come along and just eat me up. Better that than inching along another cliff face in the dark. It was a loop trail, so there was no turning around and going back to the car. But we kept going - what a rush!

Today my legs ache with every step, all those stretched muscles screaming out "what were you thinking?" But I feel terrific, nonetheless. I have a memory that will last forever, and I have a new appreciation for my strength and endurance. That is priceless!


California Condor in flight - wing span can reach 9-10 feet!

Latest Lesson - Figure Painting

For the last 10 days or so, I've been working on this latest class assignment, figure painting from a live model. Since I've also been taking life drawing, it was the perfect tie-in for me. But I focused my attention on the body, to the detriment of the surrounding area. Oh well, I had fun doing it, and learned a lot by trial and error, lots of trial and error!

The Short, Sad Story of How A Gopher Broke My Heart

I've lived in my home for over 31 years (lucky me!) and never had a gopher problem, even though they are quite common in this area. Just recently one seems to have moved in. Here you see a photo of three California poppy plants that were blooming in my back yard. The two on the left looked just like the one on the right until a few days ago, when a gopher lunched on their roots. Now they are dead and flattened on the ground after this invisible, underground attack. What's really sad was that there were originally six of them, and now there is only one left. Based on experience, what are it's chances of survival, eh?

I know, I know. In the greater scheme of things, when our whole world is struggling to survive the voracious munching at all of our roots by the greedy capitalists, war mongers, constitutuion twisters, corporate raiders, moralizing born-agains, and other shameless power brokers, maybe it seems indulgent to mourn such a small thing. But still, those little golden flowers were (are) a shining light for me. I think it was Mother Teresa who once said "bloom where you are planted". I've been thinking about that, and wondering how we can continue to bloom, here in our homes,in our beloved country, while our own (un)elected officials are chewing at the roots of everything we hold dear and true, poisoning our water and air, compromising everything that lets us bloom freely. How can we hold on to what is left, and get rid of these noxious pests?

I'm Still Here...

I haven't posted anything in so long, I'm beginning to feel as if I'm disappearing. Mostly these days my head is filled with art - making it, looking at it, dreaming about it, and wondering what I'll do next. The semester is winding down and the two classes I'm taking are nearly over, except for "final projects". This week I've been doing my first ever figure painting, from a live model, and it is completely engrossing. I'll post a photo of the finished work when it is ready, but I'm still in the thick of it. Meanwhile, i've been working 2 days a week, sigh, but that is almost over for now. Can't wait to get back to the fully retired lifestyle to which I want to be accustomed again! (Painting above is by Richard Diebenkorn, one of my favorites).

The Bravest Man in America - Stephen Colbert

By now you’ve probably heard about Stephen Colbert’s remarks to Emperor W on his lack of attire at the Washington Correspondents’ Dinner. It's amazing how many newspapers ignored this event, and did not report on Colbert's stunning moment of courage. You can watch the performance on-line and also register your appreciation for Colbert’s ballsy performance at Thank You Stephen Colbert. Almost 50,000 thank-yous so far.

Big Sur Marathon Weekend

We spent the weekend in Carmel and Big Sur. Every year, for the past several years, I've been walking the 10.6 mile walk in the Big Sur Marathon. It is one of the most gorgeous walks in the world, as Highway 1 south is closed from Carmel to Big Sur, for runners of the marathon and walkers of the walk! We went down on Saturday morning with our great friends, Johna and Rosemary, to pick up our registration packets and walkers "bibs". We strolled around Monterey for awhile and then went over to a favorite place, Tarpey's Road House, for a most delicious lunch. Later we went down to Carmel, stopped in at Highland's Gallery to see Daniella's beautiful paintings on display, and then went for a good walk down to the Carmel beach, and around some of the scenic neighborhoods in the back streets of Carmel - a thoroughly charming little town. Finally we stayed in a motel not far from there, and were at the buses at 6 am on Sunday, ready for the walk.

Walkers are driven by bus down to Rocky Point, where we are dropped off. There is always a breakfast offered down there for the walkers, and at 7:30 the horn blasts and we're off! Only 10.6 miles to the finish line! Our group always makes an effort to have a new "personal best" every year for taking the longest time to finish the walk! We purposely stroll along, enjoying every minute of this glorious opportunity to be on the "ragged edge of the Western World", as it was described on some runner's T-shirts. In past years we have seen whales migrating north, near our walk. This year we did not see any whales, but there were seals and otters and sea birds, and spectacular coast line, and spectacular homes in the Carmel Highlands area. We made it to the finish line at about noon. Our bodies were tired but it was exhilirating to have walked so far and loved every minute. Here are some photos from the day!Finish Line! We made it!

Painting My Way Out

In my beginning painting class, our most recent assignment was to make a mixed-media painting - any subject was fine. I began with a rather large canvas (30" x 40") and used a drawing I had made of my grandmother's face. I made multiple copies of the drawing in various sizes, and then tore them up, moved them around, and made a composition inside a grid. I had no idea where it was going, but something about it made sense to me. I used gauze, screening, and rice paper to add texture to the surface in various places as I painted. As I worked on this one I began to get emotionally involved with it. It seemed as if I was painting about my life, about all the ways I have tried to see myself, be myself, as a whole person. I've struggled to come out from behind the walls, veils, shields, and labyrinths that seem to have covered over much of my adult life. Sometimes there have been little glimpses of something, small moments of emerging, and then sometimes fruitless repetitions of things that didn't work, more groping in the dark, more self-censorship, or fear, or repression. Lately I can see that I am getting free of all that constraint, at last! This painting speaks to that feeling of emerging from the darkness and the walled-in consciousness, and beginning to look at the world through clear eyes. (detail below)

Life Drawing

My life drawing class this semester has been a mind-blowing experience. We are learning so much anatomy along the way, and being asked to accurately draw the skeleton, the musculature, and learn all the "bony landmarks" and "muscular landmarks" and how the light and shadow is impacted by what's in the body.. Just to give you some idea of the learning curve, I'm posting here my first drawing and my latest one. As you can see, I still have trouble getting the proportions of torso to legs right, but it is coming along and soon I expect to have that nailed. Now we're working on how to draw shadows and highlights and to show how the skin looks in particular lighting situations. It's all about practice, not perfection!

The Best of Youth (La Meglio gioventù)

This week we watched an awesome DVD, The Best of Youth (La Meglio Gioventu), a two-part, six hour film from Italy. I cannot recommend it highly enough. This is a story of a large, extended Italian family. The action stretches from the early 1960's through the present, following several generations of the family. The film focuses particularly on two brothers, Matteo and Nicola. It's in Italian, with subtitles, but one quickly forgets about that because it is so totally engrossing, and the acting is superb. Everything about this film is smart, passionate, in-depth. If you check the link to the film (above) you can see a number of one-liner reviews that amply sum it up. If you want to watch something great, run to your nearest video outlet and demand this film!

I Blew It (Caveat Emptor)

Well, yesterday I went to the Michael Moore web site, to see what he's up to. He had a nifty sidebar item, giving the daily count of the dead in the Iraq war. I thought I could copy it and put it onto my blog sidebar (I mostly succeeded). However while I was fooling around with my template I impulsively decided to change my blog's "look" and choose a new template style. Don't try this at home!!! I didn't consider that when you change your template style, you lose everything you've programmed onto your own front page, such as your links, sidebar items, etc. I didn't even stop to think about it, or make a copy of my source file before I pushed the fatal button. It will take me awhile to rebuild what I had. Meanwhile I may try on a few more styles, as long as I'm in the mood.....

P.S. Hot off the press - I just heard a leak that President Bush is choosing a new Defense Secretary to replace Rumsfeld. He wants a "kinder, gentler" image to sell this war to the American people. Here's a clue....

Past, Present, Future

As seen on Tara Dharma!

20 Years Ago I...
1. Was enduring the first year of a bad new marriage, and had already taken one of my children and run away from home for a week!
2. Was working full-time at the university.
3. Was commuting twice a week to JFK University in Orinda to take classes in “interdisciplinary consciousness studies”, (woo woo) but it was actually terrific!

10 Years Ago I...
1. Was celebrating a 4 year anniversary with my new love thang…
2. My children were moving out, going to college, getting jobs.
3. Had finished treatment for breast cancer and was feeling good again.

5 Years Ago I...
1. Began visiting Whidbey Island, where my sweetie bought a vacation home. Fell in love with a place, big time.
2. Was thinking about retirement after 20+ years.
3. Had moved to a new job at the U, and was refreshed by the change!

1 Year Ago I...
1. Was retired (as of July ’04) and getting excited about my new life style (slowing down!)
2. Began taking art classes and learning how to draw and paint.
3. Celebrated having owned my home in Santa Cruz for 30 years!

So Far This Year I...
1. Have begun blogging.
2. Have have been studying life drawing and beginning painting.
3. Lost our wonderful dog, Lola, after 13 fantastic years of her company.

Yesterday I...
1. Took several walks with our little dog, Zuma.
2. Began a new painting.
3. Was treated to a FABULOUS and extravagant 'tapas' dinner at the home of some lovely friends.

Today I...
1. Am working on a little part-time job.
2. Will go to class later tonight and draw somebody’s beautiful body.
3. Am wearing a watermelon-colored shirt, mmmmm….

Tomorrow I will ...
1. Celebrate my birthday..
2. Go for a hot tub and dinner out…
3. Hope my kids remember me….;-)

I've Been Away for Awhile

On Wednesday night last week, we hosted a beautiful Passover seder at our home. About 14 people attended, and the food was off-the-charts delicious. Our friend Rose brought copies of the Haggadah that she has worked on for years, a very moving and relevant ceremony. Below is a photo of a chopped liver goddess, made by our friend Eileen.The next morning we left town and headed south for a visit with friends in Ventura, north of Los Angeles. The weather was finally clear, and as we drove south on 101 we soaked in the acid-green hills, the hot orange California poppies everywhere, and the puffy, racing clouds blowing across the azure skies. It was a spectacular drive. We had our little Zuma along, a great traveler.Highlights of this little mini-vacation included the following:
a) staying at our friends home, about 100 feet from the beach, and being able to walk out the door and onto the beach several times a day.
b) a terrific lunch at a place called "Tutti's" in downtown Ventura. Every bite was a melt-in-your-mouth moment.
c) hours of stimulating conversation and laughter with our friends.
d) dinner at a Chinese restaurant (name withheld, I don't know why!) where the food was just awful, and the service so laughable that we felt as if we were in a Saturday Night Live piece. Our waitress slammed trays, ran back and forth past our table, put other people's dinners on our serving table and then shook her finger at us "don't touch, it's not for you!". She borrowed one of our dinner forks to serve something, then dropped the dirty fork back onto our friend's plate. She served our rice in an upside down bowl, on a plate, spilling out in all directions. She brought our water on a tray full of dirty dishes from another table, and shoved it in front of us. "You want water, take it, take it!" It wasn't clear if the water came from the other table or from the kitchen. She told us we couldn't order Mu Shu Pork because she didn't have time to serve it, "unless you want to make it yourselves". Otherwise we would have to wait at least 20 minutes. Sometimes such an outrageous experience can be a highlight - it provides laughter and stories for a long time to come, and this one certainly fit that category!
e) On the drive home yesterday, we stopped in Paso Robles, a former cow-town and rodeo center, now morphing into a little "Calistoga"-south. Probably the movie "Sideways" has changed everything in that part of the world. From King City on south, the former agricultural fields along highway 101 have suddenly all become vineyards. Anyway, Paso Robles now is full of boutiques, patisseries, cafés, French restaurants, wine tasting salons, and little inns. It is nearly unrecognizable from what it was 10 years ago. The barbeque pits and steakhouses are being elbowed out of town by the clink of wine glasses and the aroma of baguettes baking in wood ovens.
f) In the town square in Paso Robles, we noticed something else interesting. A family had brought their boxer dog and her 7 puppies (all six weeks old) out into the park. All the puppies were dressed in various pastel doll dresses - pink, yellow, aqua, mint green, etc. From a distance, it gave the impression of some kind of wierd easter egg event going on, with these little pastel fluff-balls running in circles, and tumbling on the grass as they tripped over each other. Closer up we got to have some puppy-breath kisses from these little wonders. Didn't have our camera handy, darn!
g) back in Santa Cruz, a little sunshine, our wonderful home! But that was yesterday. Today, I'm sad to report, it is raining again. Oh well......

Der Struwwelpeter (Slovenly Peter)

Listening to this morning's Weekend Edition on NPR radio I was jarred into alertness by a report on the return of Der Struwwelpeter (Slovenly Peter). This was a book we had as children, so terrifying that when I think of it I sometimes tell myself that I must be making it up. But it was a real thing. The book was first written in 1845 by Heinrich Hoffman. The color illustrations were magnificent, but they featured children having their fingers cut off with giant scissors because they had not been good children, stuff like that. It was all about frightening children into behaving. I suspect our book was from around the turn of the century. Artistically, it would probably be worth a fortune today. I have no idea what ever happened to it. Perhaps one of my brothers has it.
I tell of naughty girls and boys,
Of ill-bred children, full of noise,
Who play with lights and fire when able,--
Who rock their chairs beside the table,
Till falling down the dinner comes,--
Who suck at once at both their thumbs
Who would not let their nails be cut,
Until at last so long they got,
That from the hands away they stretched,
Until the floor below they reached.

Miss Trimmer's

We were forbidden to go there under any circumstances, so of course we went as often as possible. It was dangerous, we were told. The building was falling down. Someone had fallen through the floor from the second story. We could get hurt. It could all collapse on us and kill us. Just the slightest wrong move could bring it down. AND it was private property.

Miss Trimmer’s barn and house was next door to our farm. It had been empty for as long as I remembered. I had no memory of any Miss Trimmer, but I pictured her as a tiny, white-haired lady who had mysteriously disappeared. Probably the reality was that she had gotten too old to live alone and was off in a nursing home somewhere.

Her beautiful whitewashed stone house sat on a slight hillside, gently set back from the road. It had windows trimmed in light blue paint, and a decaying roof. The lawn was green and old roses had gone out of control on the perimeters, lavishing their abundant vines and blooms in every direction. The lawn was cut occasionally by someone, but the rest of the property was badly neglected. The photo below is NOT her house, but it has something of the feeling of it, if it were whiter and surrounded by luscious green growth.On the side of the property, almost hidden by a heavy overgrowth of berry bushes, roses, and trees, was a collapsing old barn. It was dark brown and 3 stories tall. Some of the boards had come off the sides, and part of the roof had fallen in, so that shafts of sunlight pierced through.

The ground floor appeared to have been a garage, probably for carriages. It had an open garage-size door that faced the street, but no vehicle could have driven through that tangled overgrowth in those days. Above the garage was the fabled hole through the ceiling where someone was reputed to have fallen through from above. At the back, in the darkness, was a rotting stairway to the upper floors. Some steps were missing, but my brothers and I made our way through the cobwebbed darkness, across the dirt floor, and up those stairs. We held our breaths with fear of death, expecting the whole building to fall on us as our dad had predicted. But our sense of adventure carried us over our fear.

Inside, on the second floor, was the most exciting place. It was an abandoned country store, cash register on the counter frozen in time, rusting items everywhere, a glass Mr. Peanut jar, empty but enchanting to us children. Mr. Peanut seemed to be watching us sneak around as he reclined in his top hat and monacle!Rusty kitchen utensils lay about. Old signs were decaying on the walls. Cabinets and drawers were full of spools of thread, thimbles, canned goods, fabrics, tools, buttons. Everything was the color of rust or dust, layered in cobwebs and dirt. Whispering, we fingered each item and rummaged through each drawer until we knew the place by heart. We tiptoed gingerly across creaking boards, always watchful not to be the next to plunge through the flooring to the garage below.

At first we only went into the barn, and it was enough. But eventually we began to wonder about the house and to creep through the yard, around to the back, and peek into the windows. With our childish imaginations, we were never sure that someday Miss Trimmer, or someone or something even more scary, would be inside peeking back out at us.Photo by Graeme Kerr, 2006. I think it is England, but it reminds me of the countryside near our home and near Miss Trimmer's place.

Good Day. Sunshine!

Enough said. It's sunny. It hasn't been sunny for weeks. I'm outta here to bask and enjoy!(Photo from the Golden Gate Bridge last month)

Deep Diving

I've spent the better part of the last 10 days working on a painting for my class. The assignment was that we were to make an abstract painting, a "re-imagined master painting", inspired by artist Jay DeFeo's painting, "The Rose", completed in 1965 after 8 years of work (reproduction at the left of this post). This massive, 8' x 10' painting, had a sculpted surface. When completed, it weighed in at 2,000 pounds, and required dismantling the San Francisco apartment in which DeFeo lived so it could be moved and shown. It has been described as "heroic, epic, legendary, tragic, Promethean even". It resides permanently in the Whitney Museum in New York, but it is rarely shown due to the difficulty of keeping it in good condition.

It has been fascinating to watch my classmates grapple with trying to paint something that works for this assignment. It has been a huge process of trial and error and trial and more error watching myself grapple with it! I originally thought I would do a close-up of a cactus plant, and started out painting in greens and blue/greens. A bit of purple began drifting in, and several rows of wire bristles were placed down the spines. More layers, more hours of work. After awhile, everything looked flat and colorless and dark, and dull. I had gone way too far. I began to place a few dots of lighter color on the surface, and next thing I knew the painting took on a life of its own. It now is a predominant blue/violet, with tiny bits of magenta and golden yellow. Most people who see it think it looks like some under-sea creature, or a starfish, or an imitation of an aboriginal work. It's not what I had in mind, but I sure learned a lot in the process - I guess that's what it is all about. Oh, and mine is 30" x 48" and weighs almost nothing!

A Tough Week

Haven't posted anything for several days. It has been kind of a tough week. I actually worked two days this week to earn a bit of $, a habit I though I had shed nearly 2 years ago, but it seems to be a necessity right now. Have been working on a very difficult painting assignment that has cost me hours of struggle, but also has been a great learning process. I've probably put 25 layers of paint onto one painting, attempting to get somewhere with it and perhaps, it seems, making it worse with every effort! The result is still out ahead of me, more layers to go! I have until Thursday to finish it. My niece, Amy, and her husband Carson were in town for a few days from New Hampshire and I wasn't able to see much of them for a variety of reasons. And the political scene in the US and everywhere has been pulling me down, breaking my heart, making me wonder how we all can wake up and do something, anything. This is not the reality I want for myself, my children, my (future) grandchildren, my world. Tonight I write in a mood of sadness and grief for all the innocent lives squandered by those "in charge"."But these are tainted years, ours; the blood of men far away
tumbles again in the foam, the waves stain us, the moon is spattered.
These faraway agonies are our agonies
and the struggle for the oppressed is a hard vein in my nature.

Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us,
leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers
but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces.
Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood? "
Pablo Neruda, The Water Song Ends, 1967

Light and Shadows

In our anatomical drawing class we recently had an entire class devoted to light and shadow. We learned about core shadows, form shadows, cast shadows, ambient light, reflected light, and reflected cast shadows. We worked on highlights, dark lights and half-tones, and how all these different types of light and shade play out when rendering an object in a drawing. Because we are drawing the human body, week after week, we have now moved from simply drawing the shape of the body, to adding light and shadow. It is thrilling to see how the drawings jump to life once the shading is added, how they suddenly have depth and weight and roundness that they did not previously have. I've been procrastinating all week with our homework, which was to draw three eggs, paying particular attention to light and shadow. Since so many parts of the human body are egg-shaped, this is very good practice. Here's how I spent the evening.

I Am Becoming.....

FINDING HER HERE

Jayne Relaford Brown

I am becoming the woman I've wanted,
grey at the temples,
soft body, delighted,
cracked up by life
with a laugh that's known bitter
but, past it, got better,
knows she's a survivor
that whatever comes,
she can outlast it.

I am becoming a deep
weathered basket.
I am becoming the woman I've longed for,
the motherly lover
with arms strong and tender, the growing up daughter
who blushes surprises.
I am becoming full moons
and sunrises.

I find her becoming,
this woman I've wanted,
who knows she'll encompass,
who knows she's sufficient,
who knows where she's going
and travels with passion.
Who remembers she's precious,
but knows she's not scarce -
who knows she is plenty,
plenty to share.

Painting by Henri Matisse, 1905, Woman With a Hat

Water Aerobics - A New Love

One of the joys of my "new life" has been the discovery of water aerobics. Three mornings a week I work out with the Silver Dolphins in a warm, indoor pool. This is a "senior citizens" group, and most people there are well into their 80's, making me feel like a kid in their midst.

What's contagious about the happiness there is the huge smiles on everyone's faces. For them, this is a social occasion as much as a workout. There is so much talking going on in the pool it's often difficult to hear the instructor. I'm loving how these folks look out for one another. Many have been coming to this class for 15-20 years, and they know each other well. If someone is having a bad day, has become ill, or has a spouse who is ailing (or dying), they rally around each other in such a loving way.

They are proud of the fact that they sing in the pool every morning. Promptly at 9:30, at the mid-point of the class, they burst into song. Choices are usually "oldies", such as "Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer, Do" or "Tavern in the Town". There's a repertoire of about 10 songs that are rotated throughout the month.

For me it has especially been a blessing to be in a locker room full of naked old women, all of whom seem totally comfortable in their bodies. For the most part, they show the signs of their age, but to me they are very beautiful. There is a softness to them. Their flesh has been used until it is worn, like flannel. They have nothing to hide and nothing to pretend. They have aches and pains, but they are joyful to be able to come together and enjoy the many pleasures of the warm water and the companionship.

Odds and Ends of Inspiration in my Week

Today in our painting class we watched a film about the great painter, Agnes Martin. When the film was made, she was 86 years old and still painting. She died at the age of 92, after leaving a remarkable series of very still, very zen-like paintings. Personally, she was quite striking, and came across much like a monk. She talked about painting for 20 years before she began to get what she wanted to paint. Every year at the end of the year, she would burn all the work she had done that year and start over. Finally she got it. As she said, "I don't paint nature or what's on this earth. It took me 20 years to paint what I want. Finally I got the grid, completely abstract, no hint of any cause in this world." At another point she explained how "intellect is the servant of ego .... I gave up facts entirely in order to have an empty mind. If your mind is full of garbage and an inspiration came, you wouldn't recognize it. I'm very careful not to have ideas because they're inaccurate." Later she said "I think all agressive behavior is wrong .... With a soft attitude, you receive more. Go slower and slower and then stop. Then your mind is at rest. It's best not to try too hard. Just look around and be in the mood for the truth. When the truth comes into your mind, you know what to do."

Agnes Martin knew so much about solitude, silence, geometry, the empty mind, and how to find inspiration. She stood out as a memorable and remarkable person, especially in this culture we have where everything seems speeded up, complicated, and everyone's mind is over-full of garbage. I know that mine is!
******* Unrelated Postscript:

On Wednesday, March 1st, 2006, in Annapolis, at a hearing on the proposed Constitutional Amendment to prohibit gay marriage, Jamie Raskin, Professor of Law at AU, was requested to testify.

At the end of his testimony, Republican Senator Nancy Jacobs said: "Mr. Raskin, my Bible says marriage is only between a man and a woman. What do you have to say about that?"

Raskin replied: "Senator, when you took your oath of office, you placed your hand on the Bible and swore to uphold the Constitution. You did not place your hand on the Constitution and swear to uphold the Bible."

The room erupted into applause.

Mesmerizing and Nostalgic

With all the posting going on about music, memories, nostalgia, here's one you have to watch!! Be sure to turn up the sound so you can hear the music. This guy is astounding!

http://marketplace.espeakers.com/movie.php?sid=5290&aid=10558