The Christmas Card Project

Christmas is a time when a visual artist can easily run amuck. The average person will put up a tree, no easy task at that. Me, I put up eight this year. Didn't have enough to complete the concept so I quickly got three more. That's how the Christmas card project started. I heard of a woman who wrote her Christmas letter in rhyme a la "T'was The Night Before Christmas". Instead of being one of those holiday notes where people sing the praises of their adult children ad nauseam, hers were so entertaining that people saved them. Hmmm, wonder if I could do that ? And while I'm at it, I should use my own art work! Every year as I begin it's like crawling out onto a limb. All the time I'm thinking, can I do this? I drive around saying, "Tah dah-dah, teh dah-dah teh dah dah-dah, teh dah". Some years the rhyme comes first and I do illustrations to go with it. Other years, I have a painting and the story line is written to the image, like 2010. The year that seemed to entertain the relatives the most is when I waxed poetic about our Emergency Room visits during a home remodeling saga. It's the creative challenge, I think, that I find so much fun. And it's a whole lot less fattening than baking cookies.

Christmas 2010

In those days before Christmas when all through the house,
preparations and planning for glad tidings to announce.

When what above the fireplace should appear?
An empty space, which proved nothing to fear.

While others fruitcakes and cookies are making,
I decide instead it's time to be painting.

A red poinsettia I see that's giant in size.
All the better, my dear to dazzle one's eyes.

I will model my flower in the style of O'Keefe.
And the background, ... the background, it will be in gold leaf!

The glue nicely tacky would last all of an hour.
Enough gold leaf however, those chances were dower.

I know a supplier. The place isn't too far.
It was with this plan we raced for the car.

With Len as my wheel man, I was poised to jump.
At the red light I leaped landing with a thump.

This art supply store closes at precisely six o'clock,
and with no parking, Len was circling the block.

Then home again in but a flash,
gold leaf applied to finish the task.

Oh, and gives a glorious glow.
Twinkling like the new fallen snow,

to wish you a Christmas of good cheer,
and blessings throughout the coming year!

'Tis A Gift...

'Tis a gift to simple.
'Tis a gift to be free.
'Tis a gift to come down
where we ought to be.

And when we find ourselves
in the place just right,
'twill be in the valley of
love and delight.

Shaker Hymn 1848

The Place I Was Always Meant To Be

There is this saying that once you see the place you were always meant to be, you will recognize it. While it sounds ever so poetic, it seems awfully whimsical. Far too whimsical to be true. But that's just what happened to me about eight years ago. It was the season of the itchy foot. We had talked about downsizing and even looked around, but never found anything. On a particularly beautiful October day, I exited from the interstate onto an unknown country road three states from home. And there it was- the place I was always meant to be. And I recognized it by the open horizon and softly rolling hills. Every thing I was seeing couldn't have been more different than what I was used to as a city dweller. That year we would sell or give away half of what we owned. The rest we packed up and moved to just over an acre of old growth woods and a rather eccentric house. Every day has been better than the day before. These days the way home is down a country road.

Finding Beauty

Just about every day I have a pinch me moment. Like yesterday, my husband and I had decided to go out to dinner in town. We call this restaurant our "date place". It has great atmosphere and even better food. While we were leaving the restaurant, we heard the sound of live music played by a local group. When we stopped to listen, we ran into some friends. They told us that every Friday night they close off the street in the center of town for music and dancing. Later, as we were driving home, there was a lovely Summer breeze coming in through the open car windows. It was just before twilight. I looked across one of the lush farm fields thinking I must be the luckiest person on the face of the earth. It surely doesn't get any better than this. I am surrounded by beauty daily.

Summertime!

Nothing says Summer more than a plumply ripe tomato. To my husband it was saying, "Lunch". Mais non, Monseur- lunch will have to wait! This tomato is my model and the muse is calling to me. And so the patient man waited. I would do my best to do justice to my subject. Later he would surround it with bacon and lettuce. To each, their own.

Where The Sun Don't Shine

I've always loved that saying, "Bloom where you're planted". As an artist, I have longed to paint in the south of France and sketch on the western coast of Ireland. My life has been rooted instead where I live because of duty to others. They are my family and sometimes it's been the husband's job. For a long time it was raising the children. Now it's the season of the ailing elderly parents. Blooming where I'm planted means survival to this artist. Recently I found a pencil sketch on the inside of the address book that I carry in my purse. It's of a mop and bucket in a hospital corridor. I did it while waiting for my mother who was having tests. It was the only art I was going to do that day.

That's survival, but blooming that's a whole other thing. I loved the description of climbing the glass mountain in Julia Cameron's book WALKING IN THIS WORLD. If you would ask any of my nearest and dearest they would tell you how proud they are of me, the artist. They would tell you how supportive they are of my art. I smile at that, because they don't even nearly get it. People wander into my studio at 10:00AM and ask what's for supper. If I've closed the studio door, they will politely knock and ask if I knew there was standing water under the sink cabinet. Or maybe, not so politely, shouting that the dog is throwing up on the living room rug. No self respecting Muse can endure this daily battering. And, so blooming- wherever you are, isn't as easy as it sounds.

Right outside our sliding glass doors, where there should have been a beautiful view, was a wood pile. Obviously there had been a giant oak tree that had been cut down. My husband consolidated these logs to the existing wood pile behind a shed. Almost immediately green shoots popped up. I watched them all Summer wondering what they were. As I did the next two Summers. The third year, I had resolved that if they still didn't bloom, I would move them to another spot in the yard. And that's when it happened. They bloomed big and bright. They where Irises that someone had planted long ago and had somehow survived under a wood pile. It had taken three years of sunlight for them to generate these grapefruit size yellow flowers. Note to self: blooming does not come easily, but is possible with persistence. Even in a place "where the sun don't shine".