Wine and Snow

Take 9 friends, add a 60th birthday celebration, and transport the party into the California foothills for a wine and food tasting, and you have an event that promises to be fun. Oh, add snow. SNOW??? Wait, that wasn't on the dance-card. All the rain that Northern California has been getting translated into snow in the high-country vineyards.  The limo was a bit of a let-down, more on that later.

The rows of vines, bare and stark against the new snow was breath-taking.  Or, maybe it was the temperature...crisp and cold-cold-cold!  We all looked like steam engines walking from one building to another.  I happily discovered that new snow makes snowballs that burst apart when coming in contact with winter coats and hats. No fair hiding behind your wife when you are a target, someone else will get you! 

While waiting in line for the ladies room, (a good place for social interactions...) I started talking with Holly, (The Holly of Holly's Hill Winery) and asked if there would be any objection to my coming back to paint when the weather was more conducive to being out doors, and she was delighted at the idea. Artists and wine are a natural pairing, almost as good as Abalone and Viognier! Here the vines nestle among pines and oaks of the foothills, instead of the lower elevation vinyards of Napa and Sonoma.  The differences in the grapes caused by varying soils and growing conditions could take a lifetime to learn. 

Meanwhile, the story of the limo may have to wait for another posting. The new "improved" editor won't let me add any more photos, so I think I will back away, and return to post another day, to paraphrase a long lost quote.  Taaa Taaa

A Pair of Ravens

Standing at the kitchen sink, peeling the skins off a package of chicken thighs, I had a flashback to a time when I lived in the mountains below Yosemite (probably around 1995). There was a mated pair of beautiful ravens that lived along the stretch of Hwy 140, along the Merced river, and I saw or heard them regularly. Their raucous cries echoed off the canyon walls, and they took to sitting in the Oracle Oak outside the cabin. (An Oracle Oak is not a place where a seer in skirts and bells sits for clients, but rather an unusual cross between a Black Oak and a Live Oak, mostly found in the Sierras of Northern CA.).

One day, while cooking, I went to toss the chicken skins in the wood stove, and discovered the stove was cold. I heard Heckle and Jeckle in the tree outside, and decided to see if they would like the skins.  I tossed some up into the tree, and they hopped down to check it out.  What a racket they made.  They played with those skins, tossing them around and then flew off, skins in their beaks. 

Since they are (among other things) carion eaters, didn't think the raw meat would disturb anything.  More fun than road kill!.  H & J were back within 10 minutes. They sat in the tree and "talked" to me for about a half hour before I relented and tossed the rest of the skins up into the oak.  Again, the game of catch and they were off.   They must have known that they were the last of it, as they didn't return that day.

A week or so later, I started another chicken, and was startled to hear the two of them outside, squawking and hooting like a couple of teenagers.  I set aside the chicken skin, and went outside to play with these incredibly intelligent birds. 

Over the course of a couple of years, these two came to visit, somehow seeming to know when there might be treats, and on those occasions that there were none, talked, chatted, hopped and danced in the tree, letting me know they were there.  I could sit outside on the bench, and they kept me company for hours, acting like clowns, flying away, playing what looked like a game of tag, landing in the oak, and starting all over again.  I could watch the sunlight flash off their wings, blue and black streaks of light. They are magnificent, awesome creatures, and I took great pleasure in the short time I had them in my life.

Play Dates Aren't Just for Kids.

Had a lovely afternoon with some friends, playing with ribbons, glue, stamps, ink, glitter... all the wonderful things that remind me of a day in kindergarten.  We were making Valentines, and talking, drinking tea and wine, eating wonderful little bits and pieces of yummy stuff. (OF COURSE chocolate was included).  

This time we spent was away from chores, work, family dramas, and all the cares that hang over our heads during "at home time".  Melinda, the hostess of the day had a collection of family Valentines, dating back almost (my guess) a hundred years.  There were a number of those wonderful pop-up scenes that belonged to Melinda's mother, and lots of things that the family made over a long period of time.

Home made Valentines, something that we miss these days.  These days, there is no time. No time for playing, no time for silly little creative projects that allow each of us to go into our fantasy worlds.

I know that I need the time to escape to that world, and gathering with friends to do something creative, or a project that keeps hands busy while we talk is a way for me to rejuvenate my spirit and my imagination.  It lets my subconscious connect with the deep river of creative drive that heals, that uplifts my sense of life, and inspires me to other creative works. It also keeps me going when I don't  have much time to dive into things like painting.   

The Ending of 2010

Well then, here we are, a few days before the end of the year. I'm musing over events, wins and losses, lessons learned and all the associated geewhiz. . .

I've loved this year. Haven't accomplished as much as I imagined I would, but heck, I'm sitting here in a warm, happy home, my hubby well fed and content, sitting in front of the game on the idiot box, and a pleasant social event to attend this evening. How bad is that? I have no concrete idea how the next year will play out, and I'm thinking that (oooh, interruption... hubby just came over and nuzzled the back of my neck) I can make plans, and laugh at how life alters them.

So: Plans (yeah, right. Maybe this is more of a wish list?)

1. Take the Auto-CAD class at ARC College (finish it this time?) I'm signed up, have paid the fees, so...

2. Grind and grout the mosaic gazing ball I've started. (photo above of progress so far). OH! Just talked to my mosaic-ball expert, and am infused with ideas for the coming year. Classes, festivals, meetings of the pine nuts, what a shot of energy.

3. Finish the cobblestone patio.
Pretty close, just need a little bit.
Love the part that's done so far.

4. Sort through stuff in studio and make the supplies more easily accessed, apply logic to it. (I vote this least likely to be finished in my lifetime)

5. Find some more money-paying work. Something that makes me smile when getting out of bed in the morning. (Short of that, win a reasonable lottery jackpot).

6. Work in the garden. That's a given. It's a pleasure, a blessing. It pays back every moment I put into it.

7. Take some more art classes. It doesn't really matter what kind, as long as I'm learning something new.

8. Sign up for T'ai Chi or Yoga or Chi Gong classes to keep my body in shape. I've learned this year that if I don't do something, I'm going to be in a deep world of hurt - literally! Have a flyer from a local meditation center that gives senior discounts.

9. Figure out how to tame or socialize Houdini. Didn't know how apt that name was going to be.

OK, I'm starting to daydream of stuff, so it's time to get out of my chair and start something more active than typing. Going to create an hors d'oeurve for the dinner tonight. Tiny potato pancakes with caramelized onions, creamy goat cheese, ham and fig jam...

TTFN.

A Kitten is the Reason for this Painting

No, really! A small, ginger-tabby kitten has become a resident of our home. He is or was feral, and had not overcome that skittishness. I picked him up from his former custodians on Saturday, and since that time, have had about 7 minutes of hold time. He is being called Houdini, because he can hide ANYWHERE and disappears in the blink of an eye.

My studio is his favorite place so far. In a effort to help him become used to us being near him, I sat down in front of my easel, and started to work with oil pastels. I'd been wanting to work on a still life with a persimmon, and so began. Over the last several nights, I've been enjoying the creamy, luscious feel of these pastels, adding layer upon layer of color on the art board. He has yet to peek out to watch or even acknowledge that I'm there, but the drawing is finished (or at least, for tonight, that's what I believe.)

And Schmeres

Here are two more of the studies. The one below is further work on the one in the last blog entry.

I have another on the easel that I'm working on, probably should take a photo of it now, before I go back and paint over everything. I missed the last session of class, for various excuses, but I have a good feeling about what I did learn from this. I am likely to be back among the unemployed in January, and hope that my husband will so some nagging to keep me in the studio, instead of lapsing into the doldrums.

(Anybody who wants to nag is
welcome to do so, I will need all
the help I can get.)

I think that's why I broke down and brought a kitten home today. Pets do something to lift your spirits. They
are so immediate, and live only in
the moment. I've missed cats.

Smudges

Four weeks into the painting class and it's a stretch, which, in the big scheme, is a good thing. Here are a few of the working paintings. Not finished, not anything more than exercises, but interesting anyways. The colors are a bit duller than real life, but it's my camera... I dropped it in class the first night. :^( Going to have to gather up the nickles to buy another one. It's taking pictures all cock-eyed, and the focus is off.

The number of colors on the pallett is smaller than I am used to using. The three trees are a composition that I put together to work on in class, and
the road scene is a repeat of a composition I've done before. I thought I'd try it again, with the new working style that I'm learning.

At least I am motivated to go into the studio and mush around with paint again.

As I think more about these, I'll add more comments, but it's late and my brain is fuzzy.

At least I am motivated to go into the studio and mush around with paint again.
As I think more about these, I'll add more comments, but it's late and my brain is fuzzy.

Back in the (Painting) Saddle Again

I've started the painting class and done the first weeks worth of homework. Taking photos, doing thumbnail sketches, and quick value studies on small canvas's. Tomorrow I take them to class, and learn about trees.



The hardest part is coming home from work, tired, and then getting the energy up to paint. I know that I will get back into the swing of things, and this is exactly why I signed up for the class. This summer, I slowed down to a pace slower than cold molasses. Without structure and something to spur me on, I'm not doing the things that I want to do.




I sit and daydream about painting in the "old days" and wonder if I have lost the umph that I had in my 30's and 40's. I suspect it's just that I have more distractions and responsibilities now. More excuses. More... well, just more.

So, an interesting note: sitting all day at a computer is exhausting. I am not "in shape" for it. My wonderful house is a place that I have constant exercise, just walking from one end to the other, and out to the garden. My chiropractor told me that I need to force myself to get up and walk around every hour, or the compression of my spine is going to return. He's seeing the signs already. That is enough to scare me into wiggling on a regular basis, no matter how silly it looks to people who are passing by my cube. I try to remember some of the t'ai chi and chi-gong movements. Anything helps.

So, I'll post stuff here as they are worked, to give me a record of my progress in class.

Getting Back on the Horse

I've now had two weeks of being back in the corporate-job world. Life turned topsy-turvy, and the things that I've been using to image "who I am" have shifted. I've learned a valuable lesson this last few months.

• If I do not have a structure or schedule that nudges/nags/forces me to do the things I want to do (note the "I") then they simply won't happen, short of escaping with a new book.

My painting equipment has grown a thin layer of dust, and I am starting to feel guilty about it. Then I make myself crazy with snotty little remarks to myself about a failing work-ethic. Still doesn't get things done.

What to do? I threw in some structure to fool myself, by signing up with another art instructor for a 6-week landscape painting class. Spent the money, have to show up. Actually, he has alot to teach me. Terry Miura paints in a manner that my old friend/companion Byron Rodarmel painted. That's not surprising since they both attended Art Center in Southern California. Classic art education, of which I'm envious. Guess I'll just have to pay attention in class.

With all this in mind, I think I'll brew myself a cup of tea, and go noodle around in the studio for an hour or so before my massage appointment. I have a painting I started on the camping trip than needs some brutal revision.

Mixed Feelings

With the sun streaming through the blinds of my bedroom window, I burrowed under my mother's quilt for a last few minutes before slowly getting out of bed. This is the last week of lazy mornings before I return to the workforce, and I am wistful about the pace and richness of this last year.

Going back to work - to work for Verizon - is something I never imagined that I would be doing again. When I skipped happily out of the doors for the last time, humming "Another one bites the dust" to myself, it never occurred to me that I would be walking back. Yes, the circumstances are different, and yes, it's more money, and a temporary contract through a separate agency, but still...

Because I don't know exactly what I will be doing, with only a description of my possible duties, it's very like standing at the edge of a pool, wondering about the temperature of the water. I also wonder about my own skill level, my energy level and my ability to tolerate the corporate culture again. This last year I have relaxed, healed, played, spent wonderful time with Jim, my family and friends. Will I be able to come back up to speed with programs, and multitasking (a much over-rated phenomenon that indicates too much on one's plate)? Will I have time to accomplish the things that are important to me? Am I worrying unnecessarily?

This is supposed to be a temporary posting. That's one of the things that makes this palatable, for now. I can handle most anything for a few months. It will be a good thing to have money that doesn't come out of our funds, especially more than unemployment pays. Unemployment is ending soon.

So, here I am, on a Tuesday, sitting at my computer, listening to the blue jays screeching at the squirrels in the back yard, and having the time to comtemplate what my life will be like in the next few months. The house is quiet, and I am relaxed, breakfasted and coffee'd, and I love how this feels. We will see how it plays out in the next month.

Camping in the Sierra Nevadas

Back from a wonderful camping trip. The weather (except for the last night) was perfect. The surroundings were breath taking, the food was incredible, and the company of friends all one could ask for. We pitched our tent, set up a comfy bed (luxurious by previous camping standards) and had a ball.


Our campsite overlooked Trumbull Lake, elevation 9,600'. It's nestled along the escarpment on the east side of the Sierras. The rocks rise almost vertically, with little lakes dotted along their base. There are piles of rubble, (scree or talus, I think it's called) along the base, which makes it look impossible for climbers. There are trails to hike to the summit, and several of our group did that, bringing back tales of lakes, waterfalls, streams with golden trout, and even a little glacier.




The fishing is easy, and even I caught trout!
This photo is one of our group with his catch. I didn't really think I would be fishing, since I intended to do some painting, but heck, it was fun. Did a little painting too, but there was so much to do: walks to take, things to look at, sitting and just gazing out over the lake, talking with friends. I took some photos to work from, so we will see.


It's funny, before I became unemployed, I'd never thought much about fishing, it was for other people. This last year, I've gone twice. It still seems a bit odd, when I try to imagine myself going fishing, but both times it was fun, and catching fish is exciting, no matter what anyone says. I guess the same thing holds for golfing. You just never know what life will hand you when you have a little time to play. I wonder what other things are in store.


The meadow in the forground held a few surprises. One morning, we walked past a doe, grazing along the path. We were within 10 feet of her. There were these teeny tiny little frogs, about the size of my little fingernail, moving toward the water. We walked past bear scat. (Whoopee.) Bird song, mobs of chipmunks and ground squirrels, and very few mosquitos added to the picture. I saw a beaver home. Can't say it was a dam, because it was on the edge of the lake, and not on a stream, but interesting anyway.

I am tired, happy to be home, and filled with images and thoughts that happen when one is removed from the regular environment. There is a peacefulness that happens, and I cherish that.

Oh, and I DID work on a basket...

Contemplating the Masters

The last few weeks I've been museum hopping: the De Young in San Francisco for the Birth of the Impressionists show, and the Haggin Museum for the California Impressionist show (it ended on the 15th). My brain is still processing the input. The images, the incredible artwork of the period, makes me want to chew on my brushes.

I have a different understanding of things that I've only seen in books or in slides during lectures that put me to sleep almost as soon as the lights dimmed. Breath taking. Awe inspiring. How will I overcome my intimidation?

I'm still drifting around trying to discover my own style again. I had a much stronger direction when I knew less... go figure. I guess things just take time, but it's been hard getting back to painting after this. Of course, I wouldn't have missed it, but...

In the meantime, Jim and I are working on the backyard cobblestone project. We have started 'round the tree, and did the first test batch of the sand-lock substance that holds the stones in place. I read the fine print in the MSDS sheets, and discovered that the magic ingredient is psyllium.. yes, you got it... fiber. If I run out of the supply I purchased, I guess I can just buy a couple of pounds at the health food store and grind them finely to mix into the sand. Live and learn.

The Childish Joys of the State Fair

I have to confess that I am a total sucker for the state fair. I'm fortunate that Sacramento is home to it, and cheerfully go every year to be talked into the "fair specials" in the sales and technology buildings, eat corn dogs, get pricey creams rubbed into my hands and face, and otherwise walk around with a silly grin marking me as the perfect "rube".

The colors, the scent of cinnamon rolls and roasting meats, the sounds of music, kids, rides, hawkers... all blend to a heady, multi-level froth that I breathe in. I didn't bring my camera this year, (dumb!) and I had only the camera phone to grab one shot of some brilliant red tables and umbrellas that caught my eye.

So I am guilty: we walked away with a neat-o glass and tile cutter (for my mosaic gazing ball project), aloe skin cream for Jim (ok, I'll probably use it too...), a facial skin system, some lids that go on every container to seal them, and a thingy that you put on your neck to keep cool (like ice cubes in a rolled bandana). There was so much more, like the killifish that you could hatch yourself, and that back thing that you hang in and looks like an oversized fanny pack and tools and fair trade fabrics and jewelry and and and... sigh.

We will get silly, persistant phone calls from vacation companies, strange advertising via email and things that will drift in for months to come, but it's all good. I wish the vendors good sales in this economy, and know that I did my part to help. It's all we can do.

What I Did Last Week...

Just to get it out there, this is what I did last week. I started another, but it's more like a working study than one that I will finish, because I'm not happy with the texture of the surface... live a little, learn a lot. (sometimes).

Art Adventure - Taking the Train

Yesterday was a wonderful day. No kidding about that. All the elements of fabulous were included: friends, art, travel, food, good conversation, new discoveries, beautiful weather, wonderful things to look at, good books and coming home to the man who loves me. Did I mention good friends...

I took the train to Oakland, which was an adventure all by itself. While I sat in the upper deck and watched the world go by, I realized that this was the first time that I had taken a train all by myself. I felt like a very grown-up 12 year old, venturing out in the world, and experienced the same type of naive excitement I did as a kid. That was so much fun, my cheeks were tired from grinning for two solid hours.

I watched out the window as the scenes rolled by, like a slice through the middle of California. The central valley is a beautiful place, with lush green farms and towns dotted along the track. We passed Davis, Martinez, Fairfield, Benicia. There were marshes, small shallow lakes, golden rolling hills, and then we hit the bay.

Along the tracks there were strange outcroppings in the water, consisting of rotting pilings sticking up out of the water like jagged teeth, and buildings falling down. It was difficult to take photos out the window, but still, fascinating views of the world.

By this time, the weather had changed from the hot valley sunshine, (even for early morning, it was warm) to the lovely marine layer that cools the coast. The whole area was softened by a grey mist, with occasional patches of sunlight as we entered another micro-climate.

Was there a home here once? A business like a cafe and boat dock? I can spin romantic scenes in my head and daydream about sitting on the pier and watching the lights across the water. Meanwhile, it sits there like a tumble of pick-up-sticks left behind by a careless giant.

I could find things to paint for the rest of my life here in the hills, valleys and bays of California, without ever leaving the state. I'm going to have to live to 105 to get it all in... and even then, well, there would always be more.

Marla took me to a little place in Alameda called Crab Point. We set up our easels and played with colors for several hours, having a ball. Ground squirrels and groups of children, bicyclists and walkers passed us by, sometimes stopping, sometimes just peering quickly at what we were doing. You can see the little poser sitting on top of the rock.

We stopped for lunch, and then set up in her backyard for another quick session before I had to hop back on the train. I was hoping that Paddy, Marla's lovely ginger colored Maine Coon would pose, but he had other plans.

This day filled up my cup. My senses are charged, my heart is full, my brain is energized with ideas about art, things I want to try, new colors to play with, images that delight me and time spent with people I cherish. This is what I love. Oh, to top my bowl of happy, Marla lent me a great new book, called "Sleeping with Schubert" by Bonnie Mason, which is a hoot. I started it when it got too dark to stare out the windows. This is enough for me. Je suis content.