Tag Archives: mushrooms

Where the One Eyed Man is King

Just read a snippet about the expression “where the one-eyed man is king” which seems relevant for the times.  This album came to mind.  It’s lovely, especially when pondering things or making art…..

Yesterday was the complex holiday of Thanks-Giving – complex due to the whitewashed narratives of our childhoods (read Pilgrims and Indians and all of that).  Add the further complexities of this strange year to the mix – folks home eating alone or with not enough to eat, or opting out of gatherings altogether, or choosing to have gatherings anyway, regardless.  It’s just complex no matter how we slice it.  Thankfully my family had had our larger scale get-together back in October before things got out of hand with the virus and we all kept ourselves to ourselves this holiday with a zoom conversation late morning over coffee (and maybe a bit o’ Bailey’s too).

It was good to see everyone though I can sense the weariness in all of us.

To be honest, the quietude of the day was just fine by me really.  I’m often griping this time of year that I’d rather be hibernating than socializing and this year is our chance.  Our meal was thoughtful and well made, most things from scratch.  Since we weren’t cooking for a crowd, we could take time and care in a different way.  It was really quite lovely actually.

As the evening wore on, we kept in touch with the kids, providing back up advice to them and their households as they navigated their first Thanksgiving away from the nest.  It was bitter sweet.  They seem to have a new appreciation for everything that goes into a well-crafted holiday meal.

It wasn’t just blood-family touching base throughout the day either, but friend-family too.  Heart-family.  A text from a dear one in California with an old Irish saying:

“Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine” 

which basically means ‘we live in the shelter of one another’, or more specifically translated, “we live in each other’s shadows”.  Protecting one another, in need of one another’s company and presence.  I could not agree more.   And then, a  sweet text from Ireland with video of the kids wishing their American friends a happy Thanksgiving.  My Taos based adopted family sent along their wishes as well.  We traded texted views of home-based natural life, as we often do through out the year.  Their mountain views to our hollers.  A heart-felt exchange of worlds colliding.  I am so grateful for all of it.

Eventually, we finished the pie and the washing-up over a Tune Supply concert that once again reminded me of the thing I will jump head-first most into once this is all over – music.  I am deeply missing that camaraderie.

For now, solo practicing and babbling brooks must suffice.

Today, as is our tradition, we avoided any of the “Black Friday” madness (not even sure if that is on this year?) and took to the woods.  Only the two of us, and currently dog-less*, it was quiet but beautiful.  We took our time to capture photos, study mosses and mushrooms and simply enjoy the splendor of a lovely day.

*Charlie doesn’t come on longer hikes, which renders us dog-less when in the woods.  

Muted autumn colors and horizons, Ohio style.
In which we all tuck in under a blanket for the season.

Shroomy faerie-land treasures thanks to recent rains and mild weather.

Like an other-worldly jewel.

The view up the holler.
Bogard, ‘not throwin’ away his shot.’

Though not a scientist, I have a soft spot for the mosses. I like their approach to time and reproduction, among other things.

It was wonderful to get out into the countryside today.  I’ve had our local hollers on my mind lately.  This time of year I often think of my grandparents and all of our old holidays up with them in Middletown, just north of here.  Middletown is a bit of a curiosity lately with the Hillbilly Elegy movie hitting the streams.  I loathed the book when it launched and will likely choose not to view the movie (much as I admire the work of those involved in this project).  I find I get my hackles up over the writing of JD Vance and would rather folks be reading Elizabeth Catte’s What You Are Getting Wrong About Appalachia if they are curious about this great swath of the country.  I suppose I don’t appreciate the one-faceted view of folks in general and more specifically, those facing the challenges of poverty.  There is so much more to Appalachia than meets the eye.  Much like most of the rest of humanity.

The tide seems to be finally turning on the current president, and I am counting the days until we are back on an even keel with a leader who seems to even want the job.  But I know our work as a country is only just beginning.  As we drive around to the quiet wild places here in our own back yard, we are confronted with our political opposites.  How do we get folks from such opposite ends of the political spectrum to see the light in one another?

We are all lit from within, like jewels in the autumnal countryside

Seamus Heaney wrote a poem called Whatever You Say, Say Nothingwhich is exactly what we do here a good bit of the time.  Perhaps that’s part of what got us to where we are today, so divided and deconstructed.

Perhaps we should all just go for a hike together when this virus is all said and done, to go out looking for spectacular mushrooms and mosses and figure things out in a more thoughtful way.

Perhaps.

 

 

 

Of interest

” For an artist to be interesting to us he must have been interesting to himself.  He must have been capable of intense feeling, and capable of profound contemplation.”

~Robert Henri

This day is close. Like humid and slow.  I’m reminded of Ohio and grateful for the lake here.

This morning, a walk before some rain.  I go for some time, in order to walk off a bit of the rich food and drink vacation with friends doth provide.

I walk, hike and occasionally jog a bit as well, past Wyeth style fields…. (keen to get this barking IT band back in working order)

…..up mountain roads, and past signs of life in the outer world.

There are stony sentinels guarding these well worn paths along the way.

The humidity suits the fungi sort.

Upon returning to camp, rain has begun in earnest and I retreat to the boathouse to practice some tunes for awhile.

Soon, the sun is back out, and the instruments have had their fill of muggy conditions.  I put them away and go for a swim.

Fast forward to now…. I have made a painting.  It’s busier than I would like.  Perhaps I have waited too long to paint.  Exercising and playing music first on this particular day.  All are priorities of course.  I work from memory along with a few snapshots of last night’s spectacular sunset.  So much going on there, so much to capture.

So I just push paints around for while.  There are notes of this one I like.  “It is only a study” (this I remind myself again and again.)  I am finding my voice (aren’t we always?) in gouache and one can’t make a masterpiece at every turn.

It is late afternoon and dinner hour begins soon so I’ll wrap up and be fully present here at camp, as that is the business of vacation.   (Also, maybe another swim, jaysus, it’s hot!)

There are books to read, naps to take, boat rides to experience, meals to share.  It’s all a bright balance of good things here and now.  I am grateful for all of it…..

 

Notes:

 

Test Run

****** EDITED for recent events.  See below….

Outside it blazes a midwestern summer.  Inside, cocooned, I write letters to pen pals, grateful in knowing that notes and small treasures will be back and forth in the weeks and months to come.

So excited to dive into some vintage stationary!!  (click for link!!)

While on route to Bloomington, Indiana over the weekend, I work on one such little treasure to mail, a knitted crown, fit for a queen.

I hope she likes it, and never loses her youthful moxie.

We are welcomed to Bloomington by old walls, hand hewn, washed with time.

We are welcomed with love.

Our eldest, living, working and studying in this delightful Indiana college town, keeps his distance from us, of course, in true pandemic style, while also sharing with us the things he loves most about his new home town.

don’t worry, we have masks on.

We thoroughly enjoy the time there, shadowed as it is by the all of everything.  We bike, hike, sweat, take photos.  It feels a world away.

This bridge reminds me much of Swannanoa, and the bridge we walk daily there to get to meals, classes, concerts and the like. Perhaps next year. For now, we travel empty bridges.

Sometimes, in the heat of the day, we escape to our little cabin to nap in the cool air for a bit.

Smoke keeps the bugs away, mostly.

The weekend continues with dreadful temperatures but delightful company.  We take to the woods for an early hike.

It is quiet but for birdsong and an occasional fellow hiker.  The green is soothing to our citified souls.

Lake Monroe is lovely, and we get a peek of an inlet while hiking. But I pine for a more glacial lake if I am to be honest. It’s only a matter of days……

John Joe Badger is inspired by this little fairy door and a shrew we meet in the woods…..

This little adventure is a bit of a test run.  Not only do we want to touch base and deliver some home cooking to our boy, but we want to measure the state of things outside of our home here in Ohio.

Aside from trips to the grocery store and my occasional visit to the concertina shop to get some part-time work done, we don’t really do anything.  This weekend we find ourselves at a restaurant for the first time in months (out of doors, and the staff wear masks and there are plants dividing the spaces, it feels safe…. I think).

I am remotely comfortable with this set up and it all bodes well for our eventual (hopeful) trip north later this month.  But the hum of worry stains everything.  It just does.  Everywhere we turn, there is the threat.

But carry on we must.

and follow the path of those in the know.

Learn what needs learning.

Seek the edges and toe them accordingly.

Our society is so keen on the avoidance of the proverbial elephant in the room.  Perhaps we might do well to say what needs saying.

“It’s enough to be walking with you.”

More soon…..

edit:  When I wrote “more soon” above yesterday, I didn’t really mean THIS soon.  Last night we saw news of outrage and protest in Bloomington after a horrific event.  Here is the article:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/07/07/vauhxx-booker-indiana-investigation/

We are a nation on the precipice.  A ‘powder keg’ as my husband called it this morning.  And I am heartbroken.