A Word for Feeling

“It is the morning after the night before.”     ~Ciaran Carson (Last Night’s Fun)

I find myself over coffee, eating pie for breakfast.  This is not a bad thing.  As I choose pie over cake any day.

Yesterday was my birthday.  It was, by some accounts, One to Be Reckoned With.  On paper I turned 50.  But as I have never been one akin with numbers, this slice of information seems irrelevant really.  Over the years of my wild and somewhat nomadic life, I’ve known friends and loved ones who’ve lived and loved but briefly in this earthly sphere.  From their early leaving I’ve learned to count my days and age here in this world as blessings, not curses.  They might give anything to be here.

Art by Christina Wald

“Welcome to the Crone sisterhood!  Time for an adventure.  Remember this is the age Bilbo set off!” ~Christina Wald (Creatrix of Embrace the Crone.)

Collectively, we are fairly recently returned from a magical time in Maine….

“Old friends cannot be created out of hand.  Nothing can match the treasure of common memories, of equal trials endured together, of quarrels and reconciliations and generous emotions.  ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (via@brainpinkings)

One of my oldest and dearest. While I find adventures at the end of a paint brush; she heads down the path of a Good Book. We all do what feeds us on vacation.

We spent a couple of weeks resting and recharging after a spring and summer of hard work and hard play.   I for one simply can never get enough of the sea.  In recent years, I have taken to ocean swimming whenever possible.  I do love the lakeside where we spend the bulk of our time, but honestly, I am an oceanic creature.  I long to come home to that each visit.  These brief forays make me wonder, why do we live so far from the sea?

photo credit Imran Nuri

“Swimming, One Day In August

It is time now, I said,
For the deepening and quieting of the spirit
among the flux of happenings.

Something had pestered me so much
I thought my heart would break.
I mean, the mechanical part.

I went down in the afternoon
to the sea
which held me, until I grew easy.

About tomorrow, who knows anything.
Except that it will be time, again,
for the deepening and quieting of the spirit.”

~Mary Oliver  via @shippenverse on IG

photo credit: Imran Nuri

“It is time now, I said, for the deepening and quieting of the spirit
among the flux of happenings.”  And so it is.

“Terrible things are happening outside. Poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes. Families are torn apart; men, women and children are separated. Children come home from school to find that their parents have disappeared.”

~Anne Frank  via @annefrankcenter

Recently on one of the many and varied and periled portals to the online world, I shared the above quote from Anne Frank to my profile.  I do my best to be a good citizen in this world and prefer to engage in political discussions over a cup of tea or glass of wine, face to face and with respect and regard for friends and family with differing views.  But on one particularly difficult news day, Anne’s words came to me and I shared them in response to the day’s events.  I honestly believe that sometimes to say nothing  (even online) speaks volumes.  Even if one is attempting to keep one’s online sphere to work and play (i.e. art and music).

It is no new concept to be misunderstood online and so I was not surprised to be challenged and shamed for sharing the above quote.   “Why compare the recent ICE roundup to the atrocities of the Holocaust?”,  I was asked.

Yes, this is different.  No, these folks were not being rounded up and led to their deaths, necessarily speaking.  Yet I do not think Anne Frank would mind my quoting her in these difficult times. History has taught us that small steps in the loss of our humanity amidst the atrocious treatment of and attitude toward others can be devastating over time.  The Holocaust did not happen over night, but rather incrementally while no one was paying attention, until it was too late.

It is my opinion that we as a country and perhaps as human beings in general are at a crossroads of great importance.  The United States seems to have lost the plot, especially when it comes to empathy toward our fellow ‘human beans’ as I’ve often put it.  The world is left wondering what the hell is going on.  I am fortunate enough to travel outside of the country to know this first hand.  I am also fortunate enough to know folks far less progressive on the political spectrum than myself who agree with me on this current trajectory of inhumane cruelty-turned-policy we face in our government.  At the heart of it all, we simply mustn’t dehumanize one another.  Not at the border, not at protest rallies.

And so where to from here?

So many stars, so little time (click here for the sound track to the writing of this post)

On this my first official day in The Age Of Cronedome (let’s face it, the words “forty-something and fifty-something have very different cultural connotations, though they essentially are but a day apart) I am in a quite privileged place of having space in life to make some decisions regarding my service to the world.  Perhaps I have some wisdom after all.  I continue to believe that the gifts of Art and Music are paramount to my calling in this world.  These will continue to be my focus and my center.  But I also feel a deep commitment to my own human-ness and to the human-ness of others.  I also intend to continue to apply that level of care and humanity to the not-so-human elements of the natural world.  It is time we begin not to be the center of our own planning.  The world needs more of us.

Essentially, as far as age goes, I’ve crested.  I am likely to live far fewer years on this side of fifty than on the first.  So it is more important than ever to simply own who I am in this world and in this lifetime before I embark on the Next Great Adventure, as it were.  I am deeply proud of being a soft-hearted, quick-to-cry “snowflake” (as the modern vernacular puts it) who doesn’t fear living in a world of pure imagination.  I like to think this vulnerability is part of my charm.  Yet much like my beloved Tiffany Aching, though my outer shell may be soft like chalk, I have a center of hard flint which is likely to start fire if it’s agitated enough.  In other words I am tougher than I might seem.

Perhaps you dear readers may see a bit more of what some might call “politics” on this old blog space.  Or perhaps not. But either way, I’d rather you think of it as me just doing what I can while I can during my time left on the earth.

“We are bleeding at the roots, because we are cut off from the earth and sun and stars and love is a grinning mockery, because, poor blossom, we plucked it from its stem on the tree of Life, and expected it to keep on blooming in our civilised vase on the table.”  ~DH Lawrence (via September Publishing and Dr. Sharon Blackie‘s If Women Rose Rooted.)

And yet……..

There is love above all.  And just behind that, the notion of right work, which for me is always where I come home to.  The day might be long, the news might be dire.  But there is always a tune to figure out, or a painting to with whom to dance or a dog to walk, a loved one to hold.

“When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
.
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart,
even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection,
even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy,
even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead
are standing about you and watching.”

–excerpts from the poem “On Work” by Khalil Gibran

(via the lovely work of Karla Sanders)

For me, to do my work, is to love the world.  Even at its most unloveable. This notion, along with that of coming back to my own breathing, are the only things I know to keep me centered in the maelstrom of life.  For at the heart of it all, this is what love is.

“You don’t have to move mountains.  Simply fall in love with life.  Be a tornado of happiness, gratitude and acceptance.  You will change the world just by being a warm, kind-hearted human being.”

~Anita Krizzan ( via a text to me on my birthday from the one and only Amy Malcom who really needs to start a blog, or better yet, write a book.  Her words make a world.)

So back again, to the breath and the work.  I’ve become so practiced that I can find my way in seconds if I but remember to breathe deep, or set about mixing the colors, or playing the scales……

“I should paint my own places best, painting is but another word for feeling.”

~John Constable, 1821

For those of you who’ve been reading awhile, thank you.  To you quiet new ones, welcome.  It’s an introverted paradise here where I sometimes feel I’m writing to a tribe of crickets, but then I meet one at the Trader Joe’s and I’m no longer so lonely in the writing.  (Joan, do come back to RS, the whistle awaits!!)

Happy birthday to me.  Here’s to many more years.

ps, the art work I share here is often for sale.  Do let me know if any of it strikes your fancy and we might work out an exchange.  I picture a back alley transaction involving my wearing boots with many buttons, a hat to hide my visage and perhaps bringing along a young dragon looking for a new home.

 

 

 

view from the point

“We withdraw not to disappear, but to find another ground from which to see; a solid ground from which to step, and from which to speak again, in a different way, a clear, rested, embodied voice we begin to remember again as our own”

~ David Whyte*

                                                                    *came across this quote via @lachanterie

We find ourselves in Maine, where once upon a long time ago, many many lifetimes ago actually, we came as newly fledged adults to begin finding our way in the world.  Much like recently hatched ducklings, we imprinted on this land then and have returned year after year in pilgrimage to this place which so shaped us in those early days.  The smells, sounds, color and light here are different from all else and they speak in a soul-full tongue indeed.  We are grateful to be here.

As it is a “workaday” sort of day for many of us here, I crept away to a local point to give my paint brushes a little spin, they having collected a bit of dust during my time down other, more musical pathways recently.

I found a perfect spot under a shade tree, at the end of a lane one can find only by foot.  There were welcoming spots in the form of benches and water accessible paths.  I opted for a space at a picnic table and set about to sketch a bit.  It was clear that other artful efforts had occurred in this very space as there was evidence.

So I began with the watercolors, of course.

Eventually moving over to oils…..

…..which are not without their frustrations, but I mixed and painted and observed and corrected and painted some more.  And got the bones of a painting down which I can perhaps work with later in the week once we are settled at camp.

note the stripe up the right side, this is due to the little carrying rack I built (which works a treat actually!) and I will fix it at a later time.

All in all, it was lovely exercise on this, my first day back here in Maine where we are settled in for awhile, nestled by the sea.

 

Like a River – Flowing

(give the video til  30 seconds in…..)

Laundry hangs on the line, drying best it can in this humidity before we hit the road again.  On my desk are half written lists of to-do and to-remember along with the fragments of last week’s fun in various states of unpacking, unfurling into readying and re-packing.  My mind and heart are full to brimming with a collection of new tunes I can carry with me into the next journey which is to Maine.  A yearly homecoming of sorts, much like many of my trips tend to be.

“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.”  ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Last week we leapt into the mists of yet another magical “Celtic Week” at the Swannanoa Gathering in beautiful North Carolina.  Much like the story of Brigadoon, we picked up right where we had left off the year before greeting old friends as family, getting to know new friends as well, as if nary a day has passed, let alone an entire calendar year.  Irish music does not follow the rules of linear time.  The only line it truly follows is that of tradition. The river of music flows along over top of that tradition, above and below it, side-stepping occasionally into other musical paths, (this IS a living tradition after all.)  Eventually though, it always comes home once again to the thing itself.   We came to the week with no agenda except to improve our playing a bit by spending time with masters of the craft.

The flute sisters are off to class Day 1. Many thanks to Kate McFadden for this capture.

“The only true wisdom is knowing you know nothing.”  ~Socrates

Somehow I have carved my way into classes and sessions loosely labeled “advanced”, and yet I come to this week with my mind fully open to learn new things, to be -always – the beginner.  There is no place at Swannanoa for ego or agenda.

Our musical “rock stars” who tour the world with their gifts come to camp not only to ply their musical wares….

I don’t yet read music from the written page, but I purchased Gerry O’Connor’s gorgeous compilation “Rose in the Gap”. It was so lovely to meet him!
Two of the worlds top teachers in the Irish flute tradition, Nuala Kennedy and Kevin Crawford. I am deeply grateful for their tutelage and friendship over the years. (Kevin has a new album out with Colin Farrell and Patrick Doocey called Music and Mischief. Nuala’s latest project is called the Snowflake trio. Both albums are gems!!!!)

…..but to have a laugh and a tune as well, to bask in the amazing community that is the Swannanoa Gathering.  It is so readily apparent how hard they work all week, but it is also clear that this week is as special to them as it is to us.

Thanks for the new tunes this week Kevin!!

As the space which holds this special time, Warren Wilson College does not disappoint.  It is nestled in the mountains near Asheville North Carolina, with views and vistas at every turn and even in some of the classroom spaces which remind us of what is possible if we but relax into it all.

Originally crafted as a gift for my dear friends Ellen and David in honor of their Swannanoa Wedding.
Occasionally difficult to stay focused with this view out the windows, but we managed.
We are surrounded by words of wisdom, reminding us we are but water in the river of this tradition.

The week was one of metaphor and depth.  We talked of honoring those who have come before us in this music by looking back often to older playing which may have gone out of vogue for a time.  We must never forget those who have come before us.

Sometimes we wandered through cathedrals of bamboo and dove into the depths of the river Swannanoa for a bit of wild swimming.  This returned many things back to center, especially our core temperatures.  It was a warm and steamy time.

The Bamboo Cathedral, managed and utilized by the WWC farmers.
Flutes are ancient, once made of even our own bones, or perhaps the bones of the bamboo plant. We bow low to honor the old ways when we can.

There were concerts and a bit of dancing.  There were classes filled with new tunes, but not too many.  Just enough.  There were moments of goosebumps up our arms and spines as we felt things bump against the root of all things.  Music and art making are conduits to this great source.

A few of us have been attending this week of music for many years and we opt for dinner and a bevvie or two out in town one evening each year.  I was thrilled to see a bit of our musical shenanigans have made their way into that other world….. viva la flutilla!!!!

resistance is flutile stickers in the wild at Native Kitchen in Swannanoa and Black Mountain Ciderworks.

Soon, we had crested mid-week into late-week, then late-week into last night.  The mists of time descended upon us that final night as if to tell us it’s time to go back…..

Many years, this thrust back into what some might call “the real world” is painful and we find ourselves pining and weepy.  This year was different.  This is not to say that I don’t miss my flute family.  I really do.  Instead, I think it is clearer than ever that the real world, at least for those of us willing to live in it on a daily basis, is that of art making and the sharing of a tune or a story.  The real world is that quintessential Irish humor and side-eyed self deprecation which puts everyone at ease and the belly laughs that come along  with this “craic”.  We live in difficult, trying and combative times.  Perhaps we can learn from the Irish tradition and its history that even in the most dire of times and conditions, there is always room for a tune.

“Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?” That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.”
― Hermann Hesse

Thanks again to the staff and everyone who makes this gathering possible.  til next year!!!

if you are new to the reading of this blog, I have other posts about other years.  Just type Swannanoa into the search bar.

 

 

2020 – Ten Years in Taos

Recently, while in Colorado visiting one of the (not-so)Smalls, I got a text message from one of this year’s Taos sketch-workshop participants:

“I’m deeply grateful for the opportunities you’ve facilitated through your workshop.  Amy, when you fling open the Juniper House doors and stir the creative pot of Mabel’s legacy, Magic happens.  Unleashed into a space pulsing with anticipation, your energy swirls and settles around us in a joyful and gentle comfort.  We’re home and we’re safe to explore, to express and to grow.  My sketchbook is no longer a project.  It’s now my friend.  Thank you for leading this horse to water and showing me how to drink.  I’ll never be thirsty again.”   

~ Donna A.  

I’ll admit I got a little teary-eyed.  Here I was, back in the mountains and receiving this incredible gift of not just positive feedback, but real soul-bearing words about the experience of someone who’s been a recipient of my work in this world.   It is my hope that anyone working in the world today might get the same gift.  Thank you Donna!!!!

Normally, this time of year, I wouldn’t be even thinking of Taos much.  Forging on ahead with the rest of my summer which is filled with the beauty of family time and musical nerdiness (where I get to be the student!!!).  But this year, Taos has lingered.  I find myself back there in my mind’s eye a little more often, making paintings, touching base with loved ones there, and looking ahead to next year……

The above little marketing video was made for 2014, but it’s still very valid and gives one a sense of what I’m up to in my workshops.  The tone and feel of the thing, if you will…..

Today I got a message from a musical friend who’s partner has been dabbling in the paints a bit and he thinks perhaps she might like to come to Taos next year.  And what are the dates?  And is there space?  So I figured I would quick post the answers to those questions in a little blog post.

Next year, 2020, marks 10 years teaching in Taos, New Mexico at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House.   The dates for the 2020 workshop are June 7-13.  You can find more information here.  (Prices, exact dates and what you can expect, etc)

If you are interested in going, here’s how it happens.  September 1, 2019, I will send an email out to past participants who in this last year have expressed interest in next year’s trip.  They have about a week to decide if they want to send in a deposit.  September 6, I will announce open registration for any slots left.

As I take payment by check in the mail for deposits, I simply use the date of the email or message you send me to hold your slot verbally until your check arrives and we keep a wee list (the Hub calls it a spreadsheet) of the order of incoming requests for space in the class.  As of this writing, I am holding the class in Taos to 16, but that could wiggle a bit depending upon interest.  But I do like to keep it manageable and make sure everyone gets the one:one instruction in their books as needed.

Every new year is a bit special and certainly different from the years past.    As I learn and grow, I bring that to the classroom in Taos.  We try new ideas, we share what the world has brought to us in the year since we last met.  It truly is – MAGIC – for lack of any better word.  I have learned to trust it.

So.  If you are interested in the class next summer, mark your calendars.  Get on my “subscribe” list here on the website.  That is the best way to get the announcements in a timely fashion.  If the dates for Taos don’t suit your calendar, you can consider my trip to Antigua, Guatemala in late Feburary/early March of 2020.  There are still 3 slots left in each week so far and those are likely to fill soon.

Thank you for your interest in exploring Taos, New Mexico with me, whether it’s been in past trips, or if you are only just considering coming along.  There is truly no place like it.

Mabel welcomes us….

tools, upgraded

Snow, in summer, at Independence Pass which had just opened up a couple of weeks before our arrival in Colorado.

I am between traveling.  Home from a brief visit to Aspen, Colorado, where our son Jack is part of the Aspen Music Festival, living his musical dreams to the fullest.  It is truly something to witness, one following their truest path.  He is at home in music.

Pictures and video were not permitted during the concerts in Aspen, but I did capture a couple of snapshots during warm up.

While he worked and practiced and performed, we took in the natural splendor of Aspen and surrounds, grateful to Jack’s wonderful hosts who took us in and treated us like family.

It occurred to me while sitting at the base of the Maroon Bells that the best people in our lives, many of the most important connections moving us ever forward and truer in our own lives, have come from a few simple things – art, music, and the pursuit of what makes our souls sing most heartily.

I think about the time years ago, sitting at the base of those same iconic mountains, when I made the decision to pursue a proper art degree upon returning home from a metalworking class I’d taken at Anderson Ranch in Snowmass near Aspen.  What is it about the clear mountain air and the presence of a stately, ancient mountain which affords us such lofty notions?   I do not know.  But I’m beginning to pick up on the fact that if I have something to think about, I should find myself at the foot of Taos Mountain, Volcan de Agua, or perhaps those lovely iron-laden Maroon Bells to find my answers.

Aspen felt like a proper vacation after the rich and deep work done in New Mexico.  While the Hub and I did sketch quite a lot in some gorgeous locations, there were often times I personally just sat and took it all in.  Jackie Morris of The Lost Words  fame recently stated on an episode of Folk On Foot that one of the most difficult things for her to learn as an artist was that the sitting and thinking and looking and thinking some more, are as important to her job of Artist as the pencil and paint to paper practicalities of her craft – perhaps even more so.  Having not come from a background and family of practicing artists, she’s found this notion difficult in past, and has only recently begun to truly take it on board.  I feel much the same.

That said, the watercolors and pencils do beckon in beautiful places, and I did make a few drawings.

Aspen is steeped in the arts, with ties to the taste and aesthetic of the Bauhaus tradition in its design and of course in the music festival itself held there each summer.  Everything is better with the arts involved.

Today, just now, I write to you here fairly giddy with relief, gratitude and a sense of overwhelming possibility.  I have *finally* (after literally years of frustration and hemming and hawing) upgraded my tech tools here in the studio.

I’ve invested in a more travel worthy laptop machine for writing and photo-manipulation on the road, and even opted for a large home-base monitor when I am at my desk in the studio.  Sometime today (*hopefully*) a little scanner will arrive and I’ll get that set up as well.  All of this is in keeping with the plan to get more work made and into the world.  Let’s be fair, I work.  I work a lot.  In some ways I am never NOT working.  But so much of my energy was going into technical glitches and the waiting and slowness of manipulating photos on outdated technology.  If I was to engage in a blog post, I needed a solid day to get it made.  And so, I found myself putting off writing.  I have so much work to share, but with an old scanner, my work never translated well to digital, and so it took a lot to get it tech-ready for sharing online or presenting for publication or applying for grants and residencies.  With some encouragement from Vanessa at NessyPress and moral support from the Hub, I took the plunge and threw the necessary gold coins into the abyss to get the tools I needed.

It took some doing, and a few trips to the computer store and calls to the tech folks at apple, but we managed to get it sorted.  And here I am, knocking out an update here in a more prompt and succinct manner.  This feels sustainable.  It was time for this investment.

But tech tools aren’t the only important thing, of course, merely being the vehicles by which the work is dispersed in this world.  I also took a bit of time to make a traveling oil paint set up.

Watercolor is generally my go to travel companion.  I have the set up I love, a little traveling “van” in which to cart it all, and it really works.  Even so, I pine for the oils when I find myself in beautiful places.  Our family trip to Maine, coming up later this summer, is a perfect combination of loads to do combined with plenty of “down time” to just play.  That play might be on the water, catching up on books we’ve been meaning to read, or perhaps trying new recipes with one’s best friend in tiny kitchen at camp.  But there is always more time, and that is when I start feeling restless, wishing I’d brought some oil paints to play with.

So I put together a handmade pochade box of sorts, crafted from an old wooden cigar box, plus a little carrier for any wet panels I may want to bring home.

The pochade box is pretty sturdy, and the wet panel carrier will do until I decide if this is something I may do again and again.  All in all I spent about $20.  A worthwhile investment on vacation satisfaction I do believe.

Upon returning from Aspen, I felt overwhelmed with home chores and the work needing caught up on at the shop and in my own studio.  And so for the first day or so, I just painted and played music.

This practice set my head on straight and I was then able to sink into the tasks at hand.  I am deeply grateful for all of it.  I often think that in this day and age, it is difficult to remember to take a few minutes to breathe.  To play a tune, paint a picture.  There are Big Things we must tackle (did you hear Amy McGrath is taking on Mitch McConnell??),  situations we must face, as heartbreaking as they are (there has to be a better, kinder, more humane way forward at the border, don’t you think?).  Life is complex, and tormented at times, but it is also beautiful and simple in many ways as well.  It always has been.

Next week I am off once again for my own musical adventure at the Swannanoa Gathering in North Carolina.  On the one hand, this week is truly a get-away-from-it-all Brigadoon of sorts where we forget the world outside, focus on learning tunes and improving our craft and catch up with dear friends who have become musical family over the years.   But on the other hand, it is so much more.

This week at music camp, and for that matter, my week of teaching in Taos each year, are a form of deep magic.  Magic which in some way counteracts all of the darkness we see through our screens in this modern age.   The very human physicality of coming together to play tunes, sing songs, laugh and cry together over the year’s happenings, somehow counteracts the “badness” in the news.  It’s not a cure all to be sure.  But it is the way many of us take respite from it all, if only for a moment, in order to get back out into the world and do the work.

Artists confront the difficult in this world.  Just look online at the work of artists during WW1 who were interpreting the previously unimaginable through their paintings.  I personally have taken to avoiding the echo chambers of social media for my own outrage over the state of things nowadays.  But I have my ear to the ground.  I support candidates who are doing good things in the world.  I take to the streets as needed.  I volunteer with and support the vulnerable.  But I also seek joy.  And beauty amidst the outrage.  For if I, or any of my artist friends begin to lose perspective (and isn’t it so easy to do?) then we amount to nothing.

It is my hope to be a source of light in the darkness in this modern age.  A reminder there is a place by the hearth-fire for anyone who needs a break between difficulties.  We cannot do it all, let alone singlehandedly.  Art and Joy, Music and Friendship, Beauty and Solitude are worthy pursuits, even in this fast paced, crowded,  often seemingly ugly world.  Let us make art and music.

More on the Big Work at Swannanoa here:

Musical Activism

Response on the Eve of Brigadoon

For now, I bid you fare well, and I’ll see you in Maine…….

 

 

 

 

Vessel

“The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark.  The small truth has words which are clear;  the great truth has great silence.”  ~Rabindranath Tagore

To arrive at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House in Taos, New Mexico is to step over a barrier of sorts.  Time and space are steeped in a special fluidity here which makes them more malleable than elsewhere.  Every year my goal as a workshop facilitator is to pack as much practical ‘how-to’ into a week devoted to the travel-sketch-journal process, whilst also making way for more ethereal notions such as magic, friendship and community.  For opening up to what we each have to offer the world.  For finding our own visual voices.

Every one of us should risk living in the full flow of our own originality.  And never to compare yourself with anyone outside you but to trust that inner voice that is speaking to you and whispering to you from the well of great possibility that lives inside you.”     ~John O’Donohue

This year is my ninth year working in Taos in this capacity.  Over the years I have come to trust that while each season will be new in many ways, we can trust that we will be embraced by a familiarity to sink into which makes space for the best work.  I like to think of our travel journals, as well as our classroom space, as vessels to be filled during our week together.  My job is merely to hold the space, to hand out bite sized demonstrations and then steward each participant along their own journey.  In spite of two last minute cancellations (alas, too last-minute to offer their spaces up even the most last-minute takers) I had a relatively packed house.  These numbers bring an energy to the room and to the work we do, and yet there was a lovely intimacy within this group straight away.

We went from an empty vessel….

……to the buzz of a room of artists happily working along together.

Some dear friends from Taos Pueblo visited us on our first day together to share their process of crafting beautiful pottery with mere land, water, time and fire.  This was a new idea for this year and I wasn’t sure how I might fold it into an already full teaching agenda, but everyone was quite pleased with the experience (if not the eventual results from the firing).

Sample pots used for the demo. These had dings and imperfections in them so the artists use them to show us what can (and did!) happen during firing.

Time spent pinching pots, forming beads and wee fetishes was time learning about this place we found ourselves –  Taos.

It was wonderful to get our hands dirty with the very land itself.

Working with the clay deepened our journaling work indeed…..

We talked of color and form.  We worked on studying ellipses (hint: they aren’t hotdogs or footballs.)

Some participants went so far as to use bits of spare wet clay as a painting pigment.

Carolyn’s lovely page with a niche, a pinched pot and a turkey vulture feather…..
Donna put her whole hand into the work with the pots!

We allowed our wee works to dry through the week.  Some cracked, all shrank a bit, but by week’s end, things were dry enough to attempt trial by fire.

Alas, the wind kicked up on firing night and our little works had to eventually be fired on our final morning by our friends out on the Pueblo.  In the end, only a few things survived unscathed and most of us went home with mere shards of our work.

For a variety of reasons, I am still glad we spent the time to play with the clay.  For one thing, I think everyone came away with a deep reverence for the professional pots made by native hands from native land.  Their pots are deceptively simple – until one has attempted to create one, that is!  It is a good thing to know how difficult some work is.  We can then appreciate it all the more, yes?  We all also enjoyed getting our hands dirty and using the clay as pigment.  As my workshop is about capturing the spirit of a place, and our experiences in that place, this mini afternoon workshop-within-a-workshop was worth the investment for the beautiful drawings that came out of it.

But of course, there was more to be captured.  There were mornings with the buffalo where we gathered before dawn in small groups to visit the herd we’ve come to know so well.  I never know year to year if this is something we will get to do again, and so every year I am deeply grateful to spend time with these ancient and wild beasts.  Many lovely drawings were made of the magnificent buffalo, but I was firmly planted in teaching mode and so didn’t manage to get a snapshot of these works.

There were a few quite young baby buffalo this year. Everyone was shy, but we managed to see them.

We talked of how to capture light.

Especially, when we find it in darkness….

We took much time to study the colors found in New Mexico such as rust and turquoise, and the complexity of cloud forms.

In which Nancy wrestles with the rust.

We doodled ‘carrot people’ from afar and each other closer to hand.

Carolyn drew Nancy.
Marlowe’s carrot people practice
Roger’s amazing accordion book, in process.
Rosemary, figuring out foliage
sometimes we worked quite small (This page by Carolyn)
Other times we worked larger (this page also by Carolyn!)

We attempted the challenging yet forever whimsical birdhouses in Mabel’s courtyard…..

A wee demo. Using no ink, and only the colors found on my palette.
Lovely work by Melabee

“Our pigeons live in a Mexican village  reared high up on thick, long posts.  I love the expression of their frame houses, that have been added to by José for years.  They lean strangely in all directions, and look like a settled community.

… One has to pick one’s way among them on the flagstones from the house to the gates.  They feel they own the place and I guess they do.  We never let cars drive in beside the portal any more as they used to do because the pigeons wouldn’t move away fast enough and they were always being run over.  Finally I put a sign on the gates and locked them.  It said, ‘Please don’t drive in.  The pigeons don’t like it.'”

~Mabel Dodge Luhan

We worked and we worked and we worked.

two lovely page spreads of work by Donna

We also spent time outside of class at the Pueblo watching the light dance as it does.

Sometimes I see things that give me some indication of what Georgia O’Keeffe may have been after in her paintings….

All too soon our week together was coming to an end.  As one person put it, the days seemed spacious and extensive and long in the best way possible, and yet the week as a whole simply flew past us.

We had a final farewell dinner in Mabel’s iconic dining room.

We presented the amazing kitchen staff with a gift of our own making, being so grateful for their hard work keeping us fed and watered all week.

That evening we signed each other’s books, “yearbook” style, and visited together.  Some even worked a bit more in our beloved Juniper house classroom!  I took “The Vans” outside for a photo shoot, just for fun.  It’s my hope that even more folks will carry their sketch supplies around in vans like these in future…..

It is nigh on impossible to capture this week in a blog post.  I look back over the years of posts about this trip and I marvel at the layers of meaning and experience I have managed to convey each time – of the changes that have shifted into place over time.   The kinship of place I feel toward Taos is complex.  In one way, I always feel as if I am coming home.  As one friend back here in Ohio (though who travels to Mabel’s on occasion) recently stated, “It’s Mabel.  Everything will be fine.   Pulling up in the parking lot always brings me to my knees. ”  I agree with her.

Friends always ask me, if you love it so much there, why don’t you guys just move?  I haven’t yet felt that call, but every time in Taos is harder to leave behind, to be sure.  The town upped its game further this year with my introduction to a special breed of sheep called Churro.  One of the workshop participants is a shepherdess and has been renting a small place on the outskirts of town which just happens to have a small herd of these amazing animals.  After the workshop, Rosemary, Steve and I visited our new friend on her little farm and got to meet the sheep, the farmer who is their steward in this world, and to marvel at how the hidden depths of Taos seem to have no end.  I could not stop staring at these sheep.

Those of you who know me, know I adore all things sheep.  I have even joked that one day perhaps I’ll be like Beatrix Potter.  I’ll publish and sell a bunch of books, and then retire to a sheep farm.  One never knows…..

In any case, next year, 2020, marks a nearly decade of this work finding its way in Taos.  I feel it may be a special year indeed.  (Though to be fair, every year is a gift of it’s own.)  I will be offering up pre-registration to this year’s workshop participants first and then to a broader audience after that.  This will happen in the first week of September when summer’s travels are through and I begin to set sights on next year.    I have a feeling that #TaosSketch2020 may fill fast, so keep your eyes peeled around that time for announcements.  For now though, I will unpack here and rest up for what the rest of summer has to offer.

 

 

‘Artvangogh’

It is travel season.  I am recently returned from California and while away, my studio window robins hatched and grew.

Mere seconds after this photo was snapped, this last one fledged.  It’s a bit like life itself.  How fast they grow.  Though our fledglings double back on occasion and for this we are grateful.

California was rewarding in her splendor as always, but had a few weather related tricks up her sleeve which complicated things for my workshop days.  That said, I packed in a lot in just a short time, both as a traveling artist and as a teacher.

There were many highlights….

After a class with nature journaling artist Kristin Meuser, (if you are ever in California, take a class from her! She’s lovely!) Rosemary and I headed to Berkeley where we met glass artist Alexis Berger, visited a lovely new shop called Etui, and gazed at magnificent fabrics at a place called Stone Mountain and Daughter Fabrics.

We had an appointment to meet watercolor maker Amanda Hinton of Limn Watercolors where we got to see how her fabulous paints are made from scratch.  It’s a fascinating brand of magic she does and we were smitten with all the colors.  And with Amanda herself.

Amanda Hinton of Limn Colors shows us around the room where it happens.
All the juicy colors

Limn colors do the usual fun stuff watercolors are known for, like mixing beautifully and replicating stained glass with their translucency, but some of her colors can separate and bloom in evocative ways that we have found enchanting.  I have a whole row of her colors in my paint set now which afford me abilities I’ve not had in the past.

Pigments awaiting
Half pans, drying
Samples and the muller

It was great fun to try and buy a few new colors to add to our collection and I am so thankful to Amanda for her time and warm welcome.

Also in Berkeley was a wonderful creative re-use arts supply store and the amazing Burma Superstar restaurant.  We even managed to stop into California Typewriter, of documentary fame…..

 

We were warmly welcomed by Ken and Herb and enjoyed looking at the machines currently in store there.

All in all it was a perfect, busy, sunny California day.

The sunny bit was not to continue.  Alas, the weekend forecast was wet. wet. wet.  So we worked indoors with exercises students will be able to take out of doors on their own at a later time.  Not ideal, but neither is sketching and teaching in the rain.  We were at least cosy.

There is plenty to draw in the home of an interesting, artistic friend.  Here’s a small demo drawing of a wee humbled Buddha I did for the workshop.

The following days were to see us dodging rain drops to capture the wild water on the coastline.

The sun did come out for a few minutes so we sat down to sketch on this beautiful spot in Asilomar, only to be foiled by big raindrops. We ran for the car, rain splattering our drawings. It’s a risk we take yes?
I do love a tide pool.

Again, not ideal, but we managed.  Day two of workshops was moved by one day for those available to make it, and we did manage a few hours of sunlight between rainstorms on our day of working together.  We also managed a few more sketches.

Art L-R by Amy Bogard, Sandi Kane, Rosemary Berwald
The trusty art vans! Always on the gogh. 😉

Painting at the sea side is by far one of my favorite things.  I am often torn between the desire to simply sit and stare at the shifting light and color of the ocean and to capture it in my sketch book.  This feeling is magnified by the limited time I always have by the sea.

I find myself wondering why I do not live nearer to big water.

Somewhere where I might take my blue art van and wander down the lane to the sea shore for a few hours to sketch and stare….. maybe daily.

Suffice it to say, time in Santa Cruz is never enough time.  In the same way that time at Ballybunion Beach is never enough.  Or time on Monhegan is never enough.  Alas.  Time marches on…..

Next up is an ocean of a different kind.  An ocean of sage.  In just two weeks’ time I’ll be back in New Mexico for my flagship travel journaling course at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House once again.  Every year is a gift and I am thrilled to be heading back.

The weather seems like it might be more cooperative in Taos than in California, even leaning more cool than in recent years.  We shall see.  But at the very least, sunshine, New Mexico style.

My studio is less a place of making just now and more a place of packing and preparations.

The art van, of course, at the ready.  A new sweater for the (hopefully) cool Taos nights, and maybe a friend or two along for company.

Swag is being readied.

I consider what art supplies to bring for my own making, while making sure that I have all the extras for the workshop participants as well.

It can make one’s head spin to be sure.  But the paint set is clean (after being dusted quite heavily by volcanic ash in Guatemala and a grain or two of sand in Santa Cruz) and refilled (note the lovely middle line of mostly Limn colors!!)

I have a few new pencils to try, including a light blue one suggested by Kristin Meuser during her workshop and a couple of Blackwing pencils all the rage with my illustrator friends.

All of it tucks away into the little van, along with a book or two to draw and paint in.  It’s all quite compact actually.

This year I have made the decision to simplify my packing process for the Taos trip.  I am only bringing a few of my current books, not a box full of past years’ books like I do normally.  And instead of bringing yet another box full of published books for people to peruse, I will bring a list of said books to share with my students so they can explore when they get home via bookstore and library.  We will instead focus on the work at hand.  It’s a strange shift, but I feel good about it.

It’s easy to look at the wonderful empty classroom at Mabel’s and feel like we need to fill it with things other than ourselves and our small packs of art supplies.  This is especially the case for me as facilitator.  But this is not true.  That room fills with laughter and conversation and the joy of working into the wee hours on sketches begun earlier in the day.  WE fill the room.  WE are enough, with just our supplies on hand.

I am so excited to get back to Taos where this whole traveling-art thing began for me so many years ago.  Every year is different, and yet there is the lovely familiarity to lean into as well.  I am open to what I have to learn there year after year and am grateful for the opportunity to go back once again.

 

 

Here ye, Here ye!

I have some work going up in the coming weeks and I may even attend an opening or two as these are very special shows…… Do stop by if you are local to Cincinnati!

Opening of  Mind Gardens is May 3, 5-9 pm.

Poster Art by Ursula Roma

And of course, this show, the opening party of which is a spectacle in and of itself to be sure…..

Poster Art by Jonathan Queen

Hope to see you all there!

 

Tecolote Blooming

TECOLOTE

“A nomadic bird, Snowy Owl relocates when the weather changes.  In January 2012 rising numbers of Snowy Owls started migrating  in mass numbers from the Arctic to many parts of the United States.  One leading researcher described the migration as ‘unbelievable’.  Another researcher called this the most significant  wildlife event in decades.

Owls have been seen in indigenous cultures to be predicative of weather changes, and Snowy Owl is now showing us that as the Earth evolves we, too, must move and flow with the changes.

Snowy Owl blended in with the snow of the Arctic but stands out in contrast in more southerly environments.  One message we can interpret from this is that as the Earth changes we need to come out of hiding and be seen.  If you found comfort in blending in with your surroundings, the goddess energies, the feminine, might now be asking you to stand out and make your strengths known.  It is time to share what is bubbling up from deep within you, to show up and be seen and heard.”

~Sandra Ingerman and Lyn Roberts – Speaking With Nature

The flowering trees are a force in our little patch of land. I love how the petals float down the little creek out back

Spring has sprung here in Ohio.  I arrived back only a few days ago, and today must get back into the world properly, spending a few hours at the shop and pursuing a shadow-box style frame for an plants-themed art project due quite soon.

(pssst.  Here’s the start of that project, begun in Antigua…..)

I’ll admit, I miss Antigua and it’s garish semi-tropical plant life.  And I miss my garish semi-tropical self as well.  In spite of the language barrier and the “foreignness” of food and drink, air and sounds, I felt so well adjusted down there.  Even with being “in charge” of things, hosting two separate groups of artists.  It was a lot to be sure, but I slept well and my anxiety was low.  I felt unfurled and properly relaxed, even in the midst of Semana Santa chaos and the weight of responsibility in my work.

Looking back and attempting to find a pattern, I realized that part of this was the time I spent in my garden before leaving for Guatemala. It was time spent tidying up a bit here and there and crafting gentle boundaries for the deer to allow some growth to happen in the plant-life and trees.  There truly is nothing so grounding as digging in the dirt.  So far, these boundaries are holding and things are bursting forth in splendor indeed.

Virginia Blue Bell – miraculously, the deer don’t seem to touch these guys
Weeping cherry on the hillside by the creek
White bud tree near front creek
Crab apple tree in front yard area
Raspberry!

Another important piece of the puzzle I have come to realize is that I didn’t spend very much time checking in on the social media outlets while down there.  I had too much to attend to really.  I’d post a bit on IG which posts automatically to FB and then occasionally I’d drop a sketch or so onto twitter with a hashtag or two.  I know that in this day and age, it’s part of my job and part of how I sell the work that I do so that I can do more of it.

Blueberry!
Elderberry!

This is all well and good of course, as we do live in a modern world.  But some of us, those who live close to the bone when it comes to mental health, must walk a careful balance when it comes to such temptations.  It can be all too easy to get hooked on who likes what has been posted, who might perchance redistribute it in someway or comment on one thing or another.  It can be all too easy to spend inordinate amounts of time looking at the work of others, while one’s own ideas wither and die beneath the surface of it all.

Social media makers have crafted a system that keeps us glued to our screens more than we should be and upon arriving back home, I melted back into those old habits.  I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy reading and reacting to comments on my own work, as well as the engagement with the work and words of other artists and writers.  But I realize something has to shift…..

We planted a lovely large willow tree just before I left and it’s thriving.
Wildflowers await transplantation once danger of frost has abated
The hub keeps the mower blade high enough to protect the “weeds” which we actually love. We stick to village tidiness standards, while allowing bee-friendly plants to grow in our “lawn”
Morning glories, getting a head start. I like to grow these lovelies just outside the front door as a way to soften the brick exterior.
Paw Paw…. wonder if she’ll fruit this year?

The nice thing is, I pay attention to these trends in myself and could feel the anxiety creeping back into my bones.  Though I had a good balance with the social media work while I was away, upon returning home to familiar territory I could feel the internal quandary of “not-good-enough” and comparison with everything else on the internet – that sense that I am never, ever doing quite enough to keep up with the rest of the world.  Even as I enjoyed catching up with it all on some level.  All of this is a bit ridiculous, I know, but there it is.

How is it that while in Antigua I could practically feel a proper book pitch bubbling together just under the surface while upon returning home find myself back in the sludge- swamp of insecurities that so marks my day to day?  How can ideas be so clear and firm on one day in one place, only to scatter to the wind when “real life” gets back into gear.

“It is time to share what is bubbling up from deep within you, to show up and be seen and heard.”

A dear friend of mine, who shares my deep love of metaphor and signs, shared the owl quote from above with me yesterday as I was writing up the post about this latest journey.  How was she to know that tecolote (just one of the many Spanish words for “owl”) had featured prominently in our time in Guatemala?  So prominently in fact that I picked up a mask of owl to bring a lovely burst of color to our front entryway….

Not so very long ago, in autumn, I made a painting with owl which was shown in winter at the local art center.  My friend and I decided that perhaps this was just the beginning of my journey to “showing up and being seen and heard” properly, which is at once scary and exciting.  That even then, tecolote was talking to me.

The ever magical Hawthorn tree which is a gateway to the fairy world if there ever was one. With the planting of this tree in the footprint of our old ash tree, I invited the magic back into our land. It seems to be working.
My plant ally, Apple. This year she blooms, which makes me really happy.
Protecting these little blooms from the deer has been a top priority for me in recent years.

I long to burst forth with so many ideas that I’ve literally had for decades but I find I always have time for every-thing and every-one else, while setting aside my own work in the process.  It’s classic avoidance behavior and I am guilty as charged.  And so, with this in mind, I logged off of two of the largest time-sucks in the social media realm – facebook and twitter.  For now I shall leave instagram on so that I can post pictures there and announce when I share a blogpost.  But I am carefully monitoring even that.  My intention is to write a bit more here on the blog.  Sketch more.  Allow the disparate ideas to trust me to bring them to light in their own way, in their own splendor.

Gardens must be tended.  With each journey to far away lands, I learn more about how better to tend to my very own garden, both literally and metaphorically.  I’d love it if you drop me a line here now and then, and let me know what you think as I sink my roots into deeper soil.  I’ll admit I do still enjoy a nod from outside myself now and again.

I do not know how to make a “real” book pitch.  I have 11 years of writing on this blog and I am told it is of value and worthwhile.  And so perhaps I shall spend some time reading my own writing and sampling that to send off to agents and publishers.  So far, I have only really been sending off illustrations here and there.  If I were to state it clearly, I’d love to see a little published book with my thoughts and sketches of my reacquaintance with the country of Guatemala.  A little book that might inspire others to dig into the wildness of their own past and see it bloom through new eyes.  I do not know.  I only know, I must do a better job of trusting in my own vision, instead of always permitting myself to view the world through the vision of others. *

*don’t worry, I will still keep track of things which make my heart sing and I will always share them here.  The world is too filled with beauty to spend all one’s time narcissistically navel-gazing.  🙂

The other day on NPR I heard that *strangely*, the world’s collective attention span is getting shorter (I know, *gasp!*)  I know this to be true for myself and it’s another reason for paring down my social media usage.  Here’s to trusting one’s own vision and forging forth on longer term, deeper projects – and bringing them to fruition.   I’d love to know if you are doing something similar in your own relationship to social media, and how you find and keep that balance.

More soon…..

Awakening, gradually

A word from Mabel…..

“One could really learn only by being, by awakening gradually to more and more consciousness, and consciousness is born and bred and developed in the whole body and not only the mind, where ideas about life isolate themselves and leave the heart and soul to lapse inert and fade away.  Yet never to cease watching was imperative also; to be aware, to notice and observe, and to realize the form and color of all, the action and result of action, letting the substance create the picture out of abstract consciousness, being always oneself the actor and at the same time the observer, without whom no picture can exist.”

~Mabel Dodge Luhan

And from Mary:

“To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work.”
~Mary Oliver

Upon flying away from Guatemala City, Volcán del Fuego poofed a breathy goodbye there in the distance. I’ll admit it had me a bit misty eyed.

Just a couple of days ago, I weathered a 20 hour (door to door) day of travel from Antigua, Guatemala back home here to Ohio to begin re-entry into my “real” life and to prepare for summer workshop season.  This latest trip to Antigua has gotten it all started in fine fashion.  Two weeks of facilitation and friendship; a welcoming of the Lenten season – even for the least religious among us;  and a passport to spring.

Now home, I weather the chain saws and leaf blowers which mark the fair weather season in these parts and I wonder what could be made different in this world.  I let these ponderings simmer on the back burner of my mind as I revisit what was, yet again, a life changing visit to a magical other-world.

Last I left you here I had arrived at the Posada a little heart-weary after a visit to my childhood home in Guatemala City.  I am still sifting through that heavy luggage, but not without curiosity and joy that I have as much information and inclination as I do with regard to it all.   It was, after all, a lifetime ago.  What does it even matter?  The words “make a book” keep coming around, though I have no idea how to go about it.  So many great memoirs exist in the world.  How does one even begin to make a semblance of a memoir with so few memories?  But I continue to investigate.  Perhaps living memories through the lens of a vivid imagination is enough.  Guatemala is worth exploring, I do believe.

But first, THE WORK.

I crafted this sketch-journal trip to be one framed in intimacy and quietude. No big groups here.  The goal being to come to a beautiful place, make some art, work at making it the best we can make it here and now – nothing more than that really.  Beyond that goal, the rest was travel gravy.  Each week there were 6 of us, (next year I’ll allow no more than 8 total – 6 participants at most) to allow for ease of movement about town as a group, ease of meal taking and decision making, to encourage a sense of deep work and seriousness of purpose.  This approach worked beautifully and set such a lovely tone all around for both weeks.  I marveled.

Volcano Medicine

my people

were fed by volcanoes

that fire milk

piercing the surface

like spirit

unrelenting

pierces our facade

to get in

and feed our souls

~Lisa Fazio


By morning we would admire the volcanoes, if they were up for viewing, and then we’d wander through town to breakfast….

One could spend the entire week with this series of arches on route to breakfast alone and not get bored with sketching.

The rooftop at Bella Vista Coffee Company is one of the best places to begin the day, and it has some of the best coffee the world has to offer.

We are greeted as friends, always.

The staff at Bella Vista was so excited to see what were up to in our books

Each day would see us tackling a new-to-us ruin in this gorgeous city, sketching and taking it all in along the way.

Sketch from San Francisco church ruins, Rosemary Berwald
Sketch from Conventa De Las Capuchinas, Joan Youngberg
Sketch of San Francisco church ruins, Connie Ware
sketch of San Jeronimo School ruins, Astrid Otey-Mast

 

sketch of San Jeronimo School ruins, Amy Bogard

By afternoon we would work back at Posada San Sebastián, tidying up sketches we’d begun in the morning…

A “throwdown” of sketches from week one. So much great work!!
Cindy touches up her sketch from the Capuchinas ruins
Sketching in the breezeway

and perhaps capturing a bit of our home-away-from-home at the Posada as it’s filled with all sorts of sketchable fare……

 

Cow and Donkey in a Candy Dish by Rosemary Berwald
Using blind and semi-blind contour drawing techniques to capture the wonky child’s chairs at the Posada.
I think laundry drying on a line is a beautiful theme. Ever changing yet always the same. It speaks of home.

I hope to make some proper paintings of the shifting light in the laundry area.

Sketch of Volcán de Agua by rosemary
so many blue kettles. so little time!!!

There was so much to see and take in and draw from and speak to and listen to and experience.  Each day was filled to the brim with a special kind of magic only found in this amazing Unesco World Heritage city of Antigua, Guatemala.

Vanessa utilized her excellent Spanish skills to get to know this fella who’s vessel on back there is for carrying water.
Richard spent a fine morning here in this shaded doorway tackling a difficult scene at Capuchinas.
Later he came home to sketch a “Cucurucho”, one of the Lenten flavored purple-costumed guys who populate the town and the Procesións this time of year.  Richard had purchased a little candle  representation of a Cucurucho which made us all laugh a bit, and so he drew it in his book!
Shade is hot territory on a sunny day.
Kudos to Connie who kept her focus in spite of many young onlookers as she drew the San Francisco ruins. We all remarked later that day on how polite and genuinely enthusiastic these kids were about what we were up to.
sketching at the Tanque. (Connie and Astrid)

A Sacred Season.

This year’s workshop abutted a very Holy Season indeed.  That of Lent.  In fact, at the end of the trip, Rosemary and I stole away in the wee hours of the morning of Palm Sunday.  Otherwise there might have been no escape.  For Lent is a busy time in Antigua.

Some days the incense was near stifling.  Reminiscent of growing up old-school Catholic, it was at once, unsettling and nostalgic.

Carrying Mary. It’s heavy work to bear the feminine through a distinctly male-dominated culture. But Mary prevails. As does the strength of the women of Guatemala.

A guardian of the Procesión.

The locals weren’t the only ones feeling a sense of the season. …

“I believe in kindness. Also in mischief. Also in singing, especially when singing is not necessarily prescribed.”
~Mary Oliver

Irish Music is my sanity and it was my great fortune to have Doug and Astrid along for a tune now and again.

“I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.”     ~Mary Oliver

Next year we hope not to be quite so close to Easter. (Stay tuned.  I am announcing the dates for 2020 to those who’ve been on the trip up to now and who’ve expressed interest even before that….. I’ll open it further soon to others but I expect it all to fill quite quickly if this year was any indication.)

Though I’ll admit it is thrilling to be near this level of faith.

This is Joseph Barry. Named so because as a Santo, he is Saint Joseph, but because he is from the Posada, he reminds me of the Bee Gees. He came home with me as a gift from our loved ones at San Sebastián and as a reminder to keep to the work at hand. And to have faith.

And so, here we are now, at the height of spring in Ohio, making lists and travel plans for my California Trip in May (contact me for details if you are interested) and the Taos based workshop in June (now full!), which is my flagship class and holds a truly special place in my heart.

This time of year always has me feeling a bit tossed about in the world.  I am not a speedboat in this modern world, but more of an old fashioned ocean liner of sorts.  It takes me some time to shift gears and change course of direction.  But I manage to get there in the end.

If you are curious to see more of my own work from our time in Antigua, head over to my Instagram.  There is plenty there.  I aim to keep working from source photos as well.  Sketching my way through misty memories of a tumultuous time and of course from more recent times as well, a tad less tumultous.

Seems the best way.

Vantigua!! At the ruins of San Francisco
Vantigua!! the art vans were dragged up to San Cristobal to get a view of Antigua from above. it was a delicious adventure!
The presence of Agua
Cupolas!
Color and Line. What more could an artist ask for???
The dangling flowers at Canela Bakery.
Fruit vendor. Sights. Smells.
evenings are gentle at the posada
Candles. always.
cupolas for the queue.
Dinner at Angie Angie. Sundays are two for one pizza night. Just fyi
“No bread please. Just cheese. Or meat.  Sauce is ok. If it’s on cheese or meat”     Sweetness, the street dog.
Back home with a handful of cut flowers for a garden themed show coming in May. Need to make more. and get a frame….. (One mustn’t bring true flowers into the country, but surely hand painted paper ones are ok, yes?)
Always important to have a map to find your way home……

PS.  There is a gorgeous telling of week one over on the blog-space of artist, printmaker, photographer and no-longer-practicing bear biologist (she has amazing stories fit for a proper campfire) of Vanessa Sorensen of Nessy Designs.  I adore her work, words and over all being really.  Thank you Vanessa for this lovely post:  http://nessydesigns.blogspot.com/2019/04/guatemala-sketchbook-workshop-2019.html

Do go visit her website and blog.  It’s a treasure to behold.

 

 

part rabbit warren, part spin on art & life & etc. art, illustrations & workshops by amy bogard