Learning opportunities

July 12, 2014 in Fine Art/ Studio work, Oil Painting, sketchbook, sketches

skull study

It is a deliciously delectable day here in the Ohio River Valley.  We have the gift of mild weather recently making being here this season a rather pleasant thing, which for this time of year, isn’t normal.  I am so grateful for this.  My musician son and I pack off tomorrow for a week of music camp in the mountains of North Carolina, while my dancer daughter sets off for her final week at Irish Dance camp to learn her new sets of steps for the coming year.  (a special shout out to my Hub for keeping all the animals fed and watered while we are away!!)

Once upon a time, when this whole ‘kid-at-camp’ era of our lives began, I was merely an observer; a parent along to chaperone the latest in whatever phase the kids were going through.  But over the years, I picked up a few tunes, learned a little bit about playing an instrument or so and eventually had the courage to sit with strangers and have a tune or two.  These strangers have become my friends, my son has grown to adulthood (and yet manages to have a tune with his intermediate level mama here and there) and I find this camp-thing has become my thing as well.  Something I deeply look forward to the rest of the year.

I believe that a practice of life-long learning is crucial to staying young at heart, tapped into the world and into one’s self.  This year I am taking a class in concertina, a big step as I only know a couple of tunes on this complicated instrument and I will likely be hiding in the back of class with my recording device, trying not to hold other students behind!  But since I help make these beautiful instruments at work, it’s worth learning to play one, as there is always a new instrument there needing to be broken in and scanned for needed tweaks and tuning.

Besides music, another pursuit I’ve taken on in recent years is that of painting.  I took a few classes in drawing and print making while in art school, but my focus there was sculpture.  I am, at heart, a maker of things.  I love tools and supplies and materials.  And my Day Job feeds this side of me.  But painting has been tugging at my soul more and more, especially with trips in recent years to places like Taos, NM and Monhegan Island, Maine; places where the dogma and history of painting is rich and full of history.  While in Taos a few weeks ago (has it only been a few weeks??) my friend Harold over at the Pueblo took a few of us out to visit his herd of buffalo.  At the end of one of our visits, he gave to me a buffalo skull to take home.  I was taken aback by this beautiful gift and have been somewhat obsessively sketching and painting it since it’s arrival here from Taos.

skull study color

skull study oil 1


Hopefully these will be dry when I get home from traveling so I can send one back to Harold as a thank you gift!




Each painting I make I learn something, and this goes for every sketch I make in my journal, and every tune I hack away at in an Irish music session.  All of it is learning.  There is no true mastery of anything, really.  Just a place on an endless spectrum of skill.  Sometimes I look back at all the years of this blog and it’s amazing to see the learning I have accomplished and how so much of it is cataloged here.  I am grateful for your readership over the years!

Likely I won’t get to blogging again here until the summer is near through as our annual family trip back home to Maine comes directly on the heels of camp week.  It is not lost on me that this ability to spend most of the summer on the road is a huge gift.  Sure, the Taos trip in June is work related, and technically summer camp is sort of a parenting gig…. but I know that I am truly fortunate to have these opportunities. While I may not do so much sketching in NC (seems the more music I learn, the less I draw while at music camp!) I will be sure to share some drawings and paintings from our time in Maine.  Maine is a perennial soul home of mine and it fills my proverbial well of inspiration much in the same way Taos has come to do.  If you want to contact me, you know how to find me.

a gift from the faeries

forever looking west

Simply send a message on the wings of a bird, preferably a raven if you can find one, and send it my way.  Or, if it’s more convenient, I’ll try to check in online now and then as well.

Happy summer to you.  May it be filled with learning opportunities, chances for true joy, rest and communion with those you love who might be far away the rest of the year.

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June 24, 2014 in getting started, Inspiration, sketchbook, TAOS, travel

“What is needed is more, more and always more consciousness, both in art and in life.” ~Mabel Dodge Luhan

Travel is a funny thing.  It takes us out of what we find to be the norm, and if we are lucky, we are thrust into new worlds that ask of us to question everything.  What’s up or down, or True North.  (I was deliriously disoriented under the night skies in New Zealand, for example)  In New Mexico, Taos in particular, this sense of otherworldliness is exceptional and I still find myself not here, not there, but somewhere interdimensional, on route.  DH Lawrence is said to have said that “Time runs differently” in New Mexico and I believe he was right.

It’s natural to linger over time spent in a beloved place.  In my mind’s eye I wander the halls of Mabel’s, studying the paintings her beloved Tony did on some of the walls on the second floor…


I am fascinated by this couple who created the place I turn to for workshops and other creative work and marvel at all they had to grapple with to do it.  If you have not read Edge of Taos Desert by Mabel Dodge Luhan, I highly recommend it.  It begins to scratch the surface of the allure of the people and the place that is TAOS.

Edge of Taos Desert

“The power of this place gives you the power back of who you are each time you come here.” ~Blue Spruce Standing Deer  (Tony Luhan’s Grandson)

Tomorrow I head back toward the day to day in a more concrete way.  I’ll be out of the studio and into the Day Job for a taste of that work.  I am grateful for the work.  Grateful for a couple of days to sit quietly with my books and pens and paints and to run my local roads and reacquaint myself with the air here.  I’ll admit to being quite homesick for the Taos I have come to know through time at Mabel’s.  It’s a magical place where things happen that don’t make sense – they don’t need to.  And with that, I can know that while I am here, I can, at the same time, be there.  That it’s all kind of the same thing.  This all may sound quantum-like and New Agey and I’m ok with that.  I only share the sense I get while there. It doesn’t need to make sense.

While running today a song came round whose words I adore and seem timely,  so I’ll share them (and the song) here.  It kind of sums up my sense of time right now….

Tuesday my heart is brimming
I’m a child in the wild wind
dead leaves and daylight dimming
no beginning and no end
inside a candle of defiance
a river of pearls

Cause we’re going to need more
than money and science
to see us through this world

You say it can’t be done
you’d rather die of fun
get out of the way
for me for you for everyone
forever is tomorrow is today

Shut all the windows
lock all the doors
we’re keeping it all out of sight
we’re keeping it all
it’s tearing us apart
you don’t know your good
from your bad from your black
from your blood from your wrong
from your right
so you camouflage your heart

I don’t want no other distractions
there’s too much here to see
faint hearts or jaded reactions
contraptions of history

You say it can’t be done
you’d rather die of fun
get out of the way
for me for you for everyone
forever is tomorrow is today

Shut all the windows
lock all the doors
I’m keeping it all out of sight
I’m keeping it all
it’s mine and mine alone
corrosion collision
I need a vision
to tear off the cloak of the night
and shatter eyes of stone

You say it can’t be done
you’d rather die of fun
get out of the way
for me for you for everyone
forever is tomorrow is today
forever is tomorrow is today
forever is tomorrow is today

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June 23, 2014 in Ginger Small, Inspiration, sketchbook, sketches, TAOS, travel


It would seem that I have returned, physically at least, from the Land of Enchantment.  Hopefully, if you follow these things, maybe you have been keeping up with my adventures on the road and in the workshop space over on the more day to day virtual spaces I occasionally post to.  Looking back at my last pre-Taos blog post, I was so very ‘prepared’.  My plan was to do some blogging from the road, yes?  What is easy for me to forget when I have been away from this place for a solid year is how on a different plane it is.  Once out there, the LAST thing I want to do is be on a computer, or device.  It was, I must admit, all I could do just to post updates via social media (here, here and here - do join us over on SketchShare!)  And so now, I have pages and pages of journal work to sift through, hundreds of source photos to catalogue, and more memories and stories to share than I could begin to dole out in any measured fashion here in a blog post.  I felt it better just to sit down and type out a few Thoughts on Things Taos, in no particular order.



Returning to the Mabel Dodge Luhan House each summer for my workshop is something of a homecoming.  This becomes more pronounced each year as we have made close friends both at Mabel’s and in Taos town.  Each year I learn more and more about Mabel herself and I come to respect her journey to Taos and all that it wrought more so as well.  In many ways, Taos is the artist’s Mecca it is today because of Mabel and her influence.  She was an amazing woman.  I sensed she would have been very pleased with how the workshop went this year, on many levels.  When I go to Taos, I like to take a small something to leave on her grave as a sign of respect.  It would seem many others do the same. (one day there were a number of glazed donuts present.  I believe this made the local magpie very happy) Mabel’s is the only grave to be decorated in this little cemetery.  To me, I feel the veil is thin in Taos.  Best to keep those channels open.


It is said that New Mexico is The Land of Enchantment and I believe it.  I also believe that this is more so the case the closer to Taos one gets.  It is so very different than anywhere else and you have to experience it to believe it yourself.  I come from a rich land here in Ohio, lush and verdant.  The air is literally heavy, especially this time of year.  In the past couple of weeks, I have been at about 7000 feet above sea level, compared to our usual 700 ft in Ohio.  Upon returning home, it can be a bit painful to breathe in this dense atmosphere, something I attempted to rectify with a slogging run in the humidity this morning.  I think it helped.


(photo credit, Julie Keefe)

Under New Mexico skies, anything seems possible.  Creativity seems to seep from my pores.  Any doubts, backpedaling, nay-saying and other such things seem to disappear when I am there.  It is one of life’s riddles, how to bring that sense of possibility back to the day to day.  The answer is in my journaling work, I am sure of it.  And my art work outside of the little books I keep.  It’s becoming harder and harder to leave NM every time I go back, and this may be something that has to be dealt with on some level one day.  I must admit to the romantic notion of keeping a little casita in the countryside for extended visits to Taos, but I shall not let romance get in the way of my Right Work, which is here, now, in this place.  I have much to work toward.  Plans are already underway for next year’s Illuminated Journaling Workshop, June 14-19, 2015.  I will have pricing structure decided very soon and details will be found on the Taos page.  Some changes afoot from years past, but nothing major.  If you would like to be kept in the loop, drop me a line!  I am getting the sense that the 2015 trip may fill fast.  This season was the best yet.  I had a group of artists that spanned the spectrum of experience from professional to just beginning.  Everyone put forth amazing work in their books and I was in awe each day of how open to just doing the work this particular group was.  Even the beginners bravely dove in and gave new things a try.  By the end of the workshop I had a group of new friends among those I have known from seasons past, and there is already talk of next year.  I am so grateful for these women.



In Taos, the world as a whole seems to be suddenly in our hands.  Everything is magnified in importance.  Laughter comes so easily.  Small talk simply doesn’t exist.  I feel completely at home.


(eensy map by Sally Hickerson)

There is a sense of magic that pervades our day to day there.  This year, that magic came in the form of lovely new friends, and some future opportunities…



Harold Cordova is a Taos Pueblo man who keeps a herd of buffalo on his land up in the mountains.  He is someone I have spoken to on the phone now and then, but never had a chance to actually meet due to logistics and the way Taos Mountain seems to run on her own time and agenda.  I had heard about Harold and his buffalo from one of the staff at Mabel’s who keeps us well fed on our visits there and is family to him (and to us!).  This year she handed me his number and told me to call him.  And so I did.  I always say at the beginning of the workshop that the daily agenda will be shared day to day, always open to changes in circumstance, weather, etc.  I’m so glad I do things this way, as no one gets too attached to a perceived locking in of their week’s experience, including myself.  We wound up shifting things around a bit late in our week to visit Harold’s beautiful herd of buffalo.


It’s difficult to describe how great this whole outing was for those who went.  The sage was so pungent and fresh out in the field; the buffalo, timid and curious, seemed to look us straight in the heart, wondering what we bring to them of ourselves.  We snapped a few photos but mostly we just soaked it all in.  I had many delightful conversations with Harold, about animals, our relationships to them, Totems (Raven in particular) and Dancing Hummingbirds (he is a hummingbird whisperer).  We discussed magic, in a real sense, in the way we walk this earth and our place in it.  We talked about music and how traditional music in particular is a direct route to the soul, especially to those who can listen and choose to play.   It is my hope that we can share a bit of each of our traditions in a musical way some day….

The same day that the buffalo opportunity came to us, I was informed of an opportunity that has opened itself up to me.  In the spirit of Magical Thinking, I had offhandedly mentioned to Dorothy, Director at Mabel’s (I yet AGAIN did not get a picture of myself with her, but she is one of my favorite people at Mabel’s!) that I wondered about the idea of possibly being an artist in residence.  Was there some way I could get back there, off season, to do some work?  Anything, just to get more time out there?  Well, in her beautiful, twinkly way, Dorothy told me that a writer-in-residence program was being reinstated at the Mabel Dodge house, and that if I wanted to, I could apply and see about working with Ginger Small or some other book idea for a couple of weeks next winter.  But I had to do it STAT.  And, so, amidst everything, I submitted a brief written proposal and by Thursday, I had my answer and some dates for a residency in January 2015.  I’ll be making an official blast of this announcement once I work out the details, but if you are reading this, then you are fan to have made it this far, and so you deserve to know.  I am tremendously excited, and daunted, but I know my first full day back after the culmination of a taxing, though extremely successful, workshop is not the time to fret over Big Things.  But suffice it to say, Mabel Dodge Luhan and Ginger Small are now, inextricably linked….



And so, quick as that, the workshop was over.  It was time to pack up our supplies and books and examples and souvenirs and mail them off.  It was time to say goodbye to all of the beautiful spirits we worked with, and to those who supported my workshop with their work (I simply cannot say enough about the gracious team of staff at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House.)  We took one more spin around the buffalo range with Harold for those who hadn’t the chance to see them the day before.  Lastly we scoped out some hiking paths with yet another dear friend from Mabel’s kind enough to spend an afternoon off of work to show us some of the hidden treasures just outside of Taos Town.

I am very fortunate to do this work.  I hope to build it up even more so.  Perhaps add another class during the year maybe in a different season.  As tough as Taos can be, dry, windy, difficult – Mabel’s makes it possible.  This was her original goal when she set up her home there.  To invite artists from all over the world to come and stay for a spell, to do their work and then to go back into the world to share what they had discovered amidst the quiet, mystery and sense of abandon to be found while in Taos.  Stay tuned for proper residency announcements, and perhaps more pages from my journal as I sort things out here back at home before the next trip.  I love the next two journeys, to Swannanoa to spend a week down the rabbit hole of Irish music and then onto Maine for our yearly dose of precious family time, but I am feeling called this year more than ever to maintain a distinct tether to life in Taos.  Life between dimensions is a tricky business.  But I aim to try.

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June 10, 2014 in Inspiration, sketchbook, TAOS, travel, work


It’s a juicy drippy dribbly sort of day here in the 1 acre wood.  I love it.  It’s my favorite kind of weather actually, this cool, misted rain.  (Reminds me of Ireland.)  And it’s the perfect Ohio Valley send off for this girl about to spend 2 weeks in the desert.  I’ve been spending time in the last couple of days hunkered down here, deeply aware that I will miss the creatures that share this place I call home.  My Hub, the Smalls, the Dogs and Chickens, Cat and Fish too.


I’m soaking up the green.  Memorizing it, knowing it will come as a shock to the system upon my return.


I’ve managed to spin up the roving I wrote about last week or so into a clumsy but luscious few skeins of yarn and so will toss them into the back pack along with a crochet hook.  Good to keep the hands moving while traveling, yes?

photo 2-3

But of course, this trip to Taos, NM is all about keeping a travel journal.  As I am down to the final few pages in my last book, I have outfitted a new one…

I call it the Travelogue of Curiosities.

photo 1-3

I love to think of all of the summer adventures that will fill it in the coming months.

photo 3-1

Adventures both along my travels, and of course, in the world of my imagination.

“Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while.” 
― L.M. MontgomeryAnne of Green Gables

(I recently listened to Anne of Green Gables on archive.org.  Highly recommend!)


I’m rather excited about the travel season officially beginning for me.  I’m fortunate to have crafted a summer filled with comings and goings, some work, some play.  As much of a homebody as I like to be with my creature comforts and comforting creatures, I do feel the gypsy pull of the road when I am too long at home.  I suppose beginning my life moving around much and traveling even more as a child set me on a path that necessitates a regular dose of new sights and sounds, new impressions of familiar places, and a chance for deep quiet.  I am deeply grateful for work that allows me to follow this path.  And for the best Day Job ever that gives room for this work (and later in the summer, play!) to happen at all.

And so, I’m feeling the pull.  If possible, I will use the fancy new tablet to post some picture laden blog posts and share with you here what’s happening on the road.  This latest group of Illuminated Journalers seem like a lovely group of artists.  I can’t wait to share Taos and surrounds with them.

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Gifts that keep giving

May 29, 2014 in Inspiration, sketchbook, TAOS, travel

photo 2

I arrived home from The Day Job yesterday to be greeted by a package addressed to me.  I wondered, very curiously, whatever could it be??  So I took it upstairs to my studio and opened it, ever so gently, to discover what was inside.  To my delight, there was a collection of the most delectable fibrous tidbits.  Delicious roving, hand painted all the colors of the desert and blessed by a hermitted Buddhist nun living and working (and spinning! ) just outside of Taos.

photo 2-1

photo 1

There were also some raw locks of wool that I shall make into a rough and tumble sort of yarn in which to bundle myself in time for next winter (not that I even want to think about winter just yet after this most recent one!)  I’ve even dug out my old spindles to figure out how thick the roving’s eventual yarn might like to be…

photo 3


Other treats in the box were a card, created by my old Taos friend Kate Cartwright (now living in New Hampshire!) and a gorgeous bit of silk ribbon, the colors of which are that of the sunset.

photo 1-1

Call me old fashioned, but I get a little thrill from a bit of beautiful ribbon.  Once upon a time a treasure such as this would have been only possessed by the very rich, royal and fortunate among us.  Suffice it to say, I am feeling rather rich, royal and fortunate.


But who could have sent this glorious box of treasure??  Inside the card was a note from two of my former sketch-journal students, now dear friends, who had recently returned from Taos where they celebrated their birthdays.  In it they wrote “This is a small token of our appreciation for introducing us to Taos and to Mabel.”  I am so humbled by this.  One of these two women took my local class here in Ohio when the Taos trip was just a baby of a dream.  And both of them attended my inaugural offering of a week at Mabel’s in 2011.  They have been cheerleaders in my growth as an artist and a teacher, (along with countless others!) and have, over the years, become friends.

With the passing this week of the beloved and wise Maya Angleou, beautiful quotes belonging to her have been cascading across my computer screen and one in particular has of course, been shared by many, multiple times:

“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  ~m.a.

In the midst of the logistics of day to day life, combined with all that goes into putting a workshop such as this one together, it is easy for me to forget how important this journal-based work and my place in it truly are.  Yes, the workshop is about learning to sketch what we see while on a trip to a beautiful, soul-filling place, but it is so much more.  Growth happens on these trips.  Both in myself and in most of the workshop participants.  Keeping a visual diary of what comes across our paths in this life is more than just a lovely legacy we leave for our children and grandchildren; more than just a keeper of details from our travels.  This practice enables us to build our own lives as we see fit.  By opening up to the work in a sketchbook, we can open up to ourselves, the beauty around us, and to each other.  It’s powerful stuff.  And perhaps I don’t write often enough of the deep, deep work I do in these workshops, and in my own sketchbooks.

I saw another quote recently, by psycho-analyst Donald Winnicott:

“Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate, and the desire to hide.” ~d.w.

There is such truth to this, and it may partially explain why I don’t publicly delve deeper into the Big Work that this journaling stuff is.  But it is.  And this is not lost on me.  My dear friend and right hand woman Julie and I leave for Taos in a matter of days.  And we are ready.  Ready for the big work.  Ready to midwife those who are also ready for the big work.  To notice this world in all it’s delirious detailing can be overwhelming.  But in the vessel of a little book, with the tools of some color and a pen or pencil, it doesn’t have to be so daunting.

Keeping an illuminated diary is a gift that keeps on giving.  Teaching is a gift that gives even more, as through this vocation, I have earned dear friends who seem to know me in a way many don’t.  I am deeply thankful for these gifts.  And for the earthly treasures that occasionally show up in my post box.

I’m fairly certain that there will be a small space set aside in my travel bag for a spindle and my beautiful roving whilst on my travels this summer.  Then I can work up yarn of a gypsy-journeying sort from which to knit a cloak of summer memories to keep me warm next winter.

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Paddling the nooks and crannies of Grayson

May 26, 2014 in Inspiration, travel


kayak yoga

Yesterday we took the opportunity to head out of town and onto the water at a magical place in Kentucky called Grayson Lake. It wasn’t always a lake, but was created to give folks a break from unpredictable floods in the area and to provide better water quality for the people who call it home.  The Sandy River gorge area now boasts this amazing lake with tendrilled waterways that boaters of all ilk can explore.

The Hub was keen to try some new skills out on ‘real’ water as my gift to him at Christmas time was a set of lessons on how to do this:

Clearly, he took his lessons very seriously and will now have new things to show off in Maine later in the summer!

Everywhere there is wonder to behold.  Watery patterns and rivulets captured in sandstone read like a language from the ancients, should we just be able to translate them.



Water has fallen and flowed for thousands upon thousands of years, shaping this valley, and now, filling this lake.


We delight in playing under the waterfalls which can sometimes be quite dramatic after a rain.  On this day, they were mere trickles.



But even trickles have their own special breed of mystical lure.

Some avenues looked like they would lead to dead ends,



but if you know where to go, and when to keep going, you can find hidden gems such as this lagoon and it’s waterfall.



We opted to lunch at this sweet place.


The stone walls at Grayson are fantastic.  Dripping with mineral deposited streaks like some giant’s paint strokes.


And around every bend was beauty to behold…

I’m still working on some sketches to share with you over at my Facebook and Twitter pages in the coming days, but wanted to share with you a bit of our adventure.  (I got a little sidetracked with some chicken yoga earlier day.  What else can I say?)  But  it’s days like these in places like Grayson which feed this artist’s heart.  What feeds yours?

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May 26, 2014 in In the Garden, Inspiration

This post is for my lovely nephew, Gregory Bogard, who shines so brightly in this world, drinks fancified water, sprinkles love on all he meets and challenges his loved ones to #stopdropandyoga.


Well Greg, I see your spontaneous yoga pose challenge, and raise you – a chicken.

While on my run today I pondered how to respond to the challenge which I believe may have been posted sometime yesterday while the Hub and I were out on the water.  Even there, #stopdropandyoga was alive and well….

kayak yoga

(We also worked on some standing poses later, but I wasn’t the one with the camera at that point.)

But back to today’s run.  I always get hair brained ideas when out running and today was no different.  I took turns running with each of my dogs and a plan began to take shape….

so I called my dear friend Julie (who asks no questions when plans like this arise) to assist with the shooting.

I give you, Basic Yoga for You and Your Chicken.  Do enjoy.  and more on that kayak trip in a while.  Still working on my sketches a bit!!

Take your chick to yoga


We started with some sun salutations of course, and then onto:




tree pose



Virabhadrasana I (modified for chicken comfort level)





And of course, Shavasana, to finish it all off.



It’s good to have a little fun on a sunny day, don’t you think?


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On Impermanence

May 23, 2014 in In the Garden, Inspiration, sketchbook

Are we having the time of our lives?

Are we coming across clear?

Are we part of the plan here?

It’s about the last day of school for most kids around here, give or take some final exams (which are nothing compared to the AP’s of a few weeks ago!)  My Madeleine is now officially a senior in high school.  We head to Montreal next week to finish up a slew of college visits with her that have given us an idea of what she might be interested in pursuing for university studies.  All of this, combined with my travel plans for the summer are providing an orbital feel to life in general.  It is not lost on my that time is flying.  It isn’t lost on me that these times are precious either.  Part of me is so ready to get to teaching in Taos, and the other part of me pines to capture the beauty we have outside right now in the form of the late spring garden.  So I do capture it, as best I can.



A dear friend of mine has been down the rabbit hole of various meditation retreats of late and I am fascinated by her journey.  We have talked at length about what makes up a meditation practice, and what we hope to get out of meditating.   And I think it’s just the sense of being fully present in our lives.  Making sure that we aren’t so busy looking forward to the future, or pondering the past, that we forget to really be here now.  Occasionally I will let myself see the seemingly flawless practices of my more centered acquaintances and begin to compare my own messy monkey mind to them and see it in an unkind light.  But in chatting with my friend on her journey, she was quick to remind me that not all practices look the same.  That what we do in our sketchbooks is a form of meditation.  She’s so right.  (and, that said, so is running a few miles every day!)

In this book, on most days, I ponder the beautiful, cast out mental lists that might be driving me crazy, get them down on paper and off of my mind.  I note what’s important.  Noteworthy.  Quotable.  But mostly I just draw.  And for a little bit each day, that act of drawing removes me from the pool of time and I am outside of it.  It’s just me and that peony, which will never again be the peony it was this afternoon.  I note that my 17 year old kid will be a day older tomorrow.  We will put our visit to McGill in Montreal in the sketchbook.  Maybe she will even grace the pages of my book with a drawing of her own like she did when she was little.  We will mark a small moment in time.  Bottle it in a sense.

Somehow, we are part of the plan here.   I’m not sure exactly what that plan is, or what part I play in it.  But marking the here and the now, day to day, is one way to pin down the impermanent.  At least for the time being.



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May 23, 2014 in TAOS-members

Hello dearest Taosenas!!

I don’t know about you, but I am ready to go to Taos!! Above is the final installation in my pre-workshop video series. I hope these have been helpful in preparing you a bit for the trip. But they are just the tip of the iceberg really. Our time together at Mabel’s will be so much more fruitful, especially when it comes to drawing.

Drawing can be such a loaded activity. For anyone who grew up the least bit creatively stifled (I speak from experience) the act of drawing can feel like it isn’t something that belongs to you. But it does belong to you. And to me. And to everyone. It is a tool for learning to see the beauty around you in a way that just looking, or merely using words to describe, is not enough. We catalog the world into symbols in order not to lose our minds in the minutiae and that’s important, but breaking down some of these symbols in order to see specifically something that is in front of us is where the magic is.

I am looking so forward to drawing together in Taos and capturing the magic of that place in our travel journals. Between now and then, keep up with me on facebook and instagram and of course here on the blog.

I’ll be checking here for any comments or questions as usual. See you soon!!!

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Balancing Act

May 14, 2014 in In the Garden, Uncategorized

IMG_2199   Greetings from the fancy device. I have figured out how to make the good camera speak to this little thing by way of a wee translator card that translates things between them. The next step will be to actually be able to edit here. Surely it’s possible. Then we shall be in business. I’m in a bit of a state of limbo, awaiting news on a project I may or may not be a part of and it has me in a liminal state. And so, instead of fretting anymore about something I can do nothing more about, i have chosen instead to practice this gypsy technology, readying itself for summer. The project in question will either come to fruition, or it won’t, but either way, I’ll be ready (sort of) to share with you from the road this summer. Liminality has it’s own special breed of churning. IMG_2243 IMG_2242 IMG_2245 IMG_2248 IMG_2252 IMG_2253 IMG_2254 I have been running many miles to stay out of my own way.  And sometimes i even hide. (Like this evening.) IMG_2257   But mostly I am just getting on with the day to day of things. Much like the girls do. IMG_2209 IMG_2216 IMG_2212 IMG_2225 IMG_2222   And spending plenty of time in the garden, which is newly bursting forth, is crucial. IMG_2236 IMG_2233   Gardening keeps a girl grounded. In the craziest of times.   IMG_2237

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