Sometimes It's Good to Stay in Your Jammies

Sooner or later it happens to all artists:  you just can't seem to come up with anything new.  Nothing to write about, nothing to paint.  Just blank pages, a blank canvas.  I can't say I'm suffering from writer's block, or painter's block:  I've just run out of energy.  Been working on several commissions, and I have more coming up.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I guess I'm EXplaining.  The idea of taking a photo a day, and writing a mini-poem a day, seemed easy enough in the beginning.  But a month into this project, I hit a wall.  The view from the back porch looked the same, every day.  Even the drive to and from work:  the same.  I'd write a few lines, snap a few pictures, but nothing really clicked for me. And then I thought, well, isn't that the way life is?  You can't expect every word to be worthy of a Pulitzer, or take  a National Geographic photo, or paint a masterpiece.  The whole point of this project was to record, for myself, a photographic and written journal of a year in my life. And sometimes my life is pretty darn boring.  And sometimes I am not very creative, and just want to stay in my jammies!

So I took a little time and did just that.  I watched TV (specifically Whitney Houston's funeral), which made me realize how precious life is, and not to take for granted the special gifts we're all given.  I slept late. I ate junk food and spent an entire day in pajamas.   And then I woke up this morning and said, SNAP OUT OF IT! Grabbed my camera, and my notebook, and got busy. 

I'm not going to post all the pictures I took because most are pretty crappy.  And I didn't write anything at all until today.  I took the photo above from my back porch--and yes, I was in my pj's.  I don't know if this is the same blue jay, but last summer there was a blue jay who decided the yard was his--and he would follow me from birdfeeder to birdfeeder, squawking at me or scolding me for slacking on the peanuts.

And here's the mini-poem, or micro-thought for the day:

High in the oak, wrens chatter greetings
as Morning elbows past Night.
Cow silhouettes trudge single file 
toward breakfast and another day
of grazing.

Yep, I Only Watch the Super Bowl for the Commercials

I'm not particularly interested in football, but I do enjoy the commercials during Super Bowl. And being from New York, I am sort of in favor of the Giants....but mostly, I'm interested in painting, and today I actually got back into the studio and managed to work on a painting I started months ago.  This is Woody, one of the many beautiful animals housed at the Shelby County Animal Shelter. Thanks to Sheila Collins for use of her photo--this painting, when it is finished, will be donated to the Shelby County Animal Shelter.  This is part of an on-going project of mine. The paintings can either be given to the person who adopts the animal from the shelter, or used in advertising, or auctioned off at one of the many fundraisers held to benefit the shelter.  I also have a couple of paintings of cats that I will be delivering to the shelter soon.  This is one way I can put my talent to good use. By the way, if you live in the area, buy a ticket to the Monarchs, Mutts and Meows event on February 11.  There will be a silent auction  with a lot of great items (including a pet portrait painted by me!), as well as a wonderful dinner at Claudia Sanders and fantastic music featuring the Monarchs.   

And here's the mini-poem for today:

A pair of geese signal their approach,

circle low, then skid in for a splash

landing.



It's Not That Easy!

When I first came up with the idea of writing a poem a day and taking a photo a day, I thought: how hard can that be?  Well, I didn't take into consideration the fact that life gets in the way.  A lot! Hard to believe another week has passed and once again I am posting more than one photo and poem in order to catch up. And that's just online.  I haven't printed any photos since mid-January, so the actual scrapbook I've been making is on the couch, gathering dust for the moment.  But since it's raining today, and tomorrow is Super Bowl Sunday, I am taking advantage of both so I can get back into the studio, write and organize photos!  But, as someone once said (maybe John Lennon?):  If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans!
     The photos today were taken in my gardens this past week.  I am not a great gardener, but I love getting my hands dirty, digging around in the soil, and hoping that something beautiful will grow from my efforts. Doesn't always happen, but the little successes I have had make it worth the trouble.  Even better, the wildlife that hang out in the gardens don't seem to mind whether or not I've kept up with the weeding and trimming! 

And on to the mini-poems:

January 31
Daffodils stretch
toward the sun.  
Wrecklessness?
Or blind faith?

February 1
A garbage truck rudely awakens
slumbering sparrows, sends the geese skyward,
and the old heron catches his breath
high on a tree limb.

February 2
Someone left a light on
in my neighbor's house. 
She's not there.
Gone for good.
But the light reminds me--
we promised to look out
for each other. 
One of us failed.

February 3
Morning echoes Pollard
spilling alizarin and aquamarine
across her canvas.

February 4
When I grow tired of humans
I step out to the pond 
where the geese sail quietly,
disturbed only by their leader
as he circles, pushing them
into flight formation.

The Gang of Five and More....

 Once more I find that I am playing catch-up.  Weekends get busy around here, and this past one was no exception. I did take some photographs, and write some mini-poems--but I also spent a lot of time getting re-acquainted with my camera, and digging out some of my favorite poetry books.  I finished reading Mary Oliver's "Why I Wake Early" and went back to reading the poetry of  Edna St. Vincent Millay.  I am also working on some illustrations for a small book a friend of mine puts together each year for his friends.  The pictures I'm including here were taken over the weekend--we had a lovely weekend weatherwise--a little windy, but sunny. 
All of these photos were taken around my home, Wit's End.  Above left is one of our cats:  Eddie, whose real name is Oedipuss.  Eddie follows me around the yard like a puppy!  He's a real hoot when I'm trying to work in the garden--he likes to climb on my lap, or curl up in front of me--makes yanking up weeds a little tricky, and there's nothing like having a furry cat on your lap in 90 degree temps!

The next picture, left, is our pond.  This view is near the dam.  Every spring we have baby ducks and geese on the pond, and a great blue heron stops by every now and then.  On the right is one of my favorite spots to sit and relax--the porch of our barn. From here I can see the pond, and a couple of my gardens, and both sunrise and sunset. A good place to sit and think, write, or sometimes even nap! (Cats and dogs enjoy it too!)

The last photo I took as sort of a visual for one of the mini-poems I wrote. I didn't have my telephoto lens, so it's a little hard to tell, but those little black dots are birds--I call them "The Gang of Five."  They hang out in that tree every day.

And here are the mini-poems:

Friday, January 27: 

High up in the oak

the gang of five--

sparrows--

survey their hood--

the empty feeders,

a moldy, cracked birdbath.

Not even the mockingbird scares them. 

They watch squirrels and chipmunks,

look the other way at a fly-by

slaying of a rabbit,

maintain stony silence

when the cat approaches,

then harass a red-tailed hawk

who ventures too close

to their crib.

Saturday, January 28:

I nearly missed it:

coyote on the run,

under the fence,

into the woods.

Safe now.

But who is more frightened?

Tonight, I walk faster,

carry a big stick.

Sunday, January 29

The stray cat, unhappy

to share his meal with the raccoon,

waits impatiently behind the holly,

frowns at me as I watch through the window.

Sorry, little kitty.

Tonight, it's first come,

first served.

Monday, January 30:

January tricks the daffodils

into waking early. Fools the tulips

and forsythia, too.

I warned them not to believe her,

even as I tossed aside my coat,

and turned my face to the sun.

Birds

I love cardinals. We have a lot of them hanging out in our yard.  Last year, a pair of them built a nest in the lilac tree right outside the porch window.  The nest was hidden from the outside, but I could clearly see the nest and, eventually, the babies, from inside.  I tried to photograph them, but Mama would get upset every time she saw me coming near the window, and since I didn't want to cause problems for the babies, I decided to leave them alone.  And then one day I peeked through the window:  the birds were gone, the nest abandoned.  Ah well...such is life.  So today's photo is of a mini-painting I did a few weeks ago.

And the poem for today: 

The red-tailed hawk dives from his perch

a kamikaze pilot on a mission.

I can't see his prey--only the rustle of weeds

near the pond's edge.  High in the oak

a group of sparrows huddle

their shoulders hunched against the rain

like bystanders who watch an assault and do

nothing. 

And now it's off to bed....

                                        



Why I Wake Early

That's the title of a book of poetry by Mary Oliver--one of my favorite poets.  So I decided to take that and see what I could come up with for today's mini-poem. I do like to wake early, sit on the back porch and watch the morning unfold.  I like staying up late for the same reason. There's a peacefulness in both. 

Today's photo was taken on my way home. I pulled off the road, but the little zoom lens on my camera is pretty limited, so the picture is slightly out of focus.  I like the way the three silos stood beside each other, in the same area as the lone tree I photographed last week.  I got a little creative too, and played with the color. To me it gives the photo an "old" feel.  Might make a decent painting too.

And here's my mini-poem:

I wake early, step outside

eyes shrouded with sleep.

The Big Dipper hangs low

and another line of planes

head toward Cinci or St. Louis.

Three cows in silhouette

lumber toward the barn. A heron

screeches overhead, angry

at my intrusion.

A Mouse in the House

Today's photo is of another 4-legged member of our family:  Charlie.  Yep, I'm a sucker for those big brown eyes!  (Bet you thought I was gonna say a mouse--I'll get to that later....)

I spent the weekend painting, working on a portrait commission. It's not finished yet, but here's a pic of the work in progress.  Still need to make adjustments to the eyes, etc. But it's coming along....



And here's the min-poem for today:

There's a mouse on the porch.
He drops clues on the bar--
a trail that leads to his favorite spots.
I should set a trap.
Catch the little thief--
make him pay for his crime.
The death penalty:
harsh sentence for petty theft.

Into the mist...

Once again, I'm having to catch up with the photos and mini-poems. I guess that is a good thing, as it indicates that I'm busy, right? Or lazy. I have to admit, it's been a lazy weekend. Misty, cold, gloomy--good days to stay in bed or curl up with a good book. I have, however, been busy--painting, mostly, trying to finish a commissioned portrait.  Even though I haven't been posting them, I have taken a photo each day and managed to write a few lines that may or may not one day become a longer poem.  So the photo on the right is today's photo--my neighbor's barn, surrounded by the morning's mist.  And the poem for today: 

Mist slinks over the hill

wraps around the magnolia and pin oaks,

a thin shawl against the morning chill.



          

 The next photo on the left is a work-in-progress.  A mini painting of two little corgi pups.  Not the best photograph, and obviously the painting isn't finished.  I'm hoping to finish it today.  This is Saturday's photo and below is the poem for Saturday: 

Cows low in the distance

Chorus for the train whistle--

Midnight to Georgia

or Hank Williams' restless ghost.

Friday's photograph is of the latest addition to our family: Gracie.  Gracie was a little kitten born on the grounds of the correctional facility where I work.  Her mom disappeared, and Gracie started hanging out at the warehouse.  We fed her, as did the inmates that worked there. For a long time she wouldn't come near anyone, but we managed to coax her into a crate one day, and I brought her home.  She's now my studio cat, along with Eddie and another stray, Casper.  And here's Friday's poem:

She escaped from prison

an inside job

no one objected

no parole or probation

only freedom.

And finally, the photo for Thursday (below) is of my art student with her self-portrait.  It took awhile, but she finally finished it and I'm so proud of her!  And to shamelessly promote myself, the paintings on the wall behind her are mine. 

 

And here's the poem for Thursday: 

A mockingbird in the flower pot

gives me a nasty look,

as if I have intruded on a private moment--

or caught him up to no good.



We're Not in Kansas anymore.....

Weird weather the last couple of days....cold, snow, rain, warm temps, and today: tornadoes!  Luckily no problems for us, but others in the area weren't so lucky, as you'll see in today's photo. Most of the roof was blown off this building--I pass it every day on my way to and from work.  I hope no one was injured.  There were several trees down in that area, too, as well as a kids' playset. The set was flattened, the slide tossed across the road between tree branches. It hasn't been confirmed whether it was a tornado that caused the damage or straight line winds, but at this point, does it matter? I'm sure to those families, the damage is done and hopefully everyone in those homes is safe and sound.

As for today's poem, here it is:  Lightning slices the morning sky.
                                                   Leaves skitter across the walk and disappear.
                                                   A cardinal goes airborne.  He knows:
                                                   Danger! Danger!
                                         

Playing Catch-up

So...haven't posted in a few days, not because I wasn't taking photos and writing, but because I had a problem getting the photos to upload from my camera. Finally got it--whatever "it" was--working....I think. Anyway, I'm posting a couple of photos and the mini-poems I wrote--and then hopefully I will be back on schedule!  Above, left, is the picture for yesterday, and on the right is the pic for today.  The cat is a stray cat who's been showing up at our doorstep regularly for the past several months.  She, or he, won't let me get close enough to touch, but her timing is impeccable:  no matter when I open the door, he/she appears, seemingly out of nowhere.  The only way I was able to get a picture was to sneak up to the window beside the door and snap the picture as quickly as possible.

The next photo is Molly, my daughter's Scotty.  She was trying to sleep.  We call her "evil Molly"--she's very spoiled--but cute!

Here are the mini-poems written over the last three days.

January 12:  A black-capped chicadee sits

                      deep inside the forsythia

                      near an abandoned hummingbird's nest--

                      barely visible even without cover of leaves--

                      while the cat watches

                      and waits.

January 13:  Rain pelts the windows,

                      streaks down the glass,

                      puddles in mulch.

                      A chickadee seeks shelter

                      beneath the eaves, its feathers

                      wet, on end

                      like my hair after a shower.

January 14:  Snow skips on the wind

                      swirls and circles before landing.

                      The wind whips whitecaps on the pond

                      reminding me of bleak winter days on the lake

                      back home.

January 15:  I am startled to see

                      a young fox

                      poised to strike.

                      A beagle barks.

                      The fox retreats

                      and so do I,

                      relieved not to witness

                      a murder.

Hey, I never claimed to be Robert Frost!

Well, that's all for now, folks!  Tomorrow I'll be back on schedule and back in the studio.  The recent cold weather and snow made me want only to snuggle by the fire with a good book.  Or take a nap. 

Moonlight, Geese and Gnomes--Oh My!

Didn't get a chance to post yesterday, so tonight's a two-fer.  First, the photographs: the one on the left is my gnome door, in the back yard.  Some of us believe in "wee ones."  On the right is a great dane statue we bought several years ago, in memory of our great dane, Daisy.

And the back porch poems for yesterday and today:


January 8, 2012:  Frost on the ground this morning.
                              A lone goose stands watch over the pond--
                              perhaps in search of a place to nest,
                              or a quiet spot to rest.

January 9, 2012:  Moonlight masks the green pond scum
                               turns it into a shimmery lake
                               the geese a silent fleet of ships.

Back in the studio tomorrow--still working on the portrait commission!
                            

Introducing Ringo, and another Back Porch Poem

So this is Ringo, another member of my family.  Ringo was adopted from a shelter a couple of years ago and he is the sweetest dog!  He's not too happy right now, as he was trying to sleep and there I was shoving a camera in his face! But he got a treat for his trouble, so that made him a little less annoyed with me. This is photo #7 for the year, and here's the next Back Porch Poem:


January 7, 2012:  Moonlight colors the back yard now.
                              The church on the hill stands silent, constant
                              bathed in soft rose.  I close my eyes,
                              breathe deep
                              take in the night.

So that's it folks! 'Night!
.
                            

Photo a Day and Back Porch Poems

Today's photo is of the Clay Village Baptist church.  It sits on the hill overlooking our property.  I wish I had the patience to set up the tripod and photograph it at night, because there's something really peaceful and comforting about it then.  It seems to glow, catches the setting sun or the light from the full moon.  I've spent many a night staring at it from the back porch before I head to bed.

Meanwhile, here are the next two of my Back Porch Poems:



January 5, 2012:   They have names, but I know them only by number.
                                Friendly enough, they smile,
                                wish me a good day, or Merry Christmas.
                                Seems ironic to return the greeting
                                so I just say thanks, walk on
                                recite the training mantra:
                                Inmates are not your friends.

January 6, 2012:  Clouds dance beneath the moon
                              their billowy skirts shimmer starlight
                              while the wind hums Claire de Lune.


Six poems, six photographs, 360 to go!

Fire and Water

Had to build a fire tonight, as I was just too cold.  Freezing at work today, cold on the way home and just couldn't warm up, even inside with my heavy fleece shirt and sweats! So glad there's a little warm-up on the way!  Today's photo is the beautiful fire!

And the poem for today:

They bark at each other
across the pond 

beagle to beagle

dog code warning: Intruder!

deer, coyote, or maybe

the stray cat,

finally come to eat.

Day Four:  4 photos, 4 poems, 362 to go.  Stay tuned!

Happy New Year--and Two New Projects!

Happy New Year, everyone!  I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and my wish for you is a happy and healthy 2012.  I have resolved not to make any new year resolutions, since they usually fall by the wayside by Valentine's Day--sometimes even sooner.  I am, however, going to undertake two major projects, which I hope will rekindle my photography interests as well as my writing, with the added benefit of keeping the creative juices flowing regarding my painting and jewelry making as well. 

The photo project is not very original:  a photo a day for the entire year. Not of me, because that, in my humble opinion, would get boring pretty quick.  I will be photographing something or someone in my life each day--could be anything, whatever appeals to me at the moment. The photo above, left, was taken January 1.  I think it's appropriate:  while cleaning out my desk, I found a blank poetry journal, which I intend to put to use.  The photo on the right was taken January 2.  That's one of my dogs:  Tony.  And for today, January 3, I took this: 

 It's the picnic table that overlooks our pond.  I spend a lot of time sitting there, watching and thinking.  In warmer weather, it's a great place to write.

The second project is to write a short poem, I guess you'd call it a micro -poem, every day, also for the entire year.  I'm thinking of calling these my Back Porch Poems.  I like to sit on the back porch and  watch what goes on outside the windows:  the neighbor's dogs, the various birds that nest around our yard, my gardens. The yard teems with action, and there should be plenty of triggers for a short poem, which may ultimately expand into a longer one or maybe a short story. Sometimes the poems may overlap with the photo of the day, but that isn't necessary for either project.  At the end of the year, I might combine the two.  We'll see.  So here are the mini-poems for the first three days of January: 

January 1:  Framed in glass, my daughters chase their dad
                    on a sandy beach, their smiles wide as the sea
                    behind them. Stark contrast
                    to this bitter, blustery day.

January 2:  First snow of the year. 
                    The stray cat's food sugared
                    with glittery flakes.
                    Not a pawprint in sight.
                    

January 3:  Moonset in Clay Village. 5 a.m.
                    The church steeple pink and somber against a navy dawn.
                    White light bobbing past--a lone farmer up early to feed his cows.

Meanwhile, I am still painting, working on a portrait commission (humans, this time, not pets) and creating new jewelry, as I managed to sell nearly everything I'd made before Christmas. Yay!  Will post progress photos soon. 

So there you have it.  Three photos. Three mini-poems.  362 more to go. Oh wait, isn't this Leap Year???

Stormy Weather

Spent another night listening to the weather radio, watching tornado and severe thunderstorm warnings roll across the bottom of the TV screen, but thankfully, we suffered only a few minutes of heavy rain, thunder and wind--lost a few more tree limbs, and I swear the weeds have grown another 6 inches overnight.  While I'm grateful for our luck, my thoughts are still with the town of Joplin, Missouri, and those in Alabama who are still reeling from Mother Nature's recent rampage.  I just cannot imagine that kind of destruction, and I hope I never have to see it up close and personal. 

I'm looking forward to a long weekend--haven't had one in awhile, and I have plenty to do, yardwise, though I would prefer to be writing and painting. I'm hoping to make time for some of that, but unfortunately, mowing and weeding take priority, assuming the weather cooperates. 

Thinking of Memorial Day reminded me of a poem I found some time ago.  It was originally attributed to "Anonymous" or sometimes credited to an unknown Native American--but it was actually written by a woman named Mary Elizabeth Frye in 1932.  It's called Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep.  You can read about it here:  Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep.  Here's the poem: 

Do Not Stand at my Grave and Weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

Different subject:  I don't know what's going on with Blogger, but all my Followers have disappeared! Not that I had that many, but I was grateful to have them, and now they're gone. Note to Blogger: Bring back my followers pleeeez! 

Hump Day--ugh...

Up early this morning, heading off to work soon. My computer was running soooooo....sloooooowwww last night. I'm thinking it might be time to trade in the old laptop for a newer, faster model.  I bet I could get a whole lot more painting and writing done if I didn't spend an entire evening trying to visit various sites that take forever to upload. I did manage to get to a couple places of interest.  Try these:  Book of Kells and Coffeehouse for Writers. There are tons more writing and poetry websites, but these two were the most interesting that I landed on last night. 

Pulled out a couple of my writing/poetry journals last night and found several promising entries.  I think keeping a writing journal is a wonderful idea--write in it without worrying about whether or not anything usable will come from it--you'll be surprised what you'll find later on.  Even if it's only a sentence or a phrase--you'll often find yourself thinking "hmmm...I can use that" and off you go!  I've got a couple of little gems that might be the jumping off point for a poem or two. Now if only I had time to actually write them.....

Uh....I'm Still Here!

So apparently the Rapture didn't happen...at least not for me, and I haven't seen any mysterious puddles of clothes anywhere (except those in my laundry room and closet, heh heh) so I'm guessing someone got the date wrong.  Guess we'll have to wait till 2012 and see if the Mayans got it right.  Meanwhile, I've been surfing the net, perusing various artist blogs, writer blogs, and websites.  Lots of interesting stuff out there and it makes me wonder if it's really worth all the effort to set these things up.  There are so many blogs and websites, seems to me that unless you've got something really unique, your site will be lost in the bloggers slush pile.

We talked about the benefits of having a blog at the writers' workshop yesterday, and visual artists say the same thing--that, yes, blogs are important venues for writers and artists.  But frankly, I just don't have the time to spend hopping from blog to blog, and obviously I have a difficult time keeping my own blog current--I'd be getting a whole lot of writing and painting done if I just stayed off the Internet! And yet, here I am, filling up cyberspace, joining the blogger conga line.  Reading other people's blogs is like peeping through a window to get a glimpse of how others' write and paint and think, and realizing that, yeah, we're all basically going through the same thing--wanting to sell, wanting recognition, or maybe just wanting comraderie. 

I don't have any paintings to share today--I spent the afternoon mowing and managed to finish just before it rained.  Maybe I'll get a chance to write or paint tonight....and I'll try to post whatever I do tomorrow.  Stay cool!

It's Sooooo Good to be Back!

It's been a long time, but I am finally getting back into my studio, and back to writing.  I have several paintings in the works that are in various stages of completion.  Last week I was able to spend a couple of hours in the studio, and couldn't decide which painting to work on...the portrait of Charlie, my dog, or the Irish landscape scenic, or the purple pansies...too many choices.  I opted to work on the Irish landscape, but not enough so you'd notice. I'll post a picture when I've made more progress.

Meanwhile, today I attended a wonderful writing workshop, sponsored by Clear Creek Writers in Shelbyville, KY.  "Confessions of Working Writers II" was led by author Annie Jones, with authors Ann Gabhart, Virginia Smith and Sherry Chandler conducting short breakout sessions throughout the day.  The keynote speaker was Laura Resnick, who writes science fiction, romance, fantasy and creative non-fiction.  It was a wonderful day, well attended, and I left with a new perspective on my budding writing career.  Lots to think about, and you may see some changes in this blog, as I try to incorporate some of the things I learned from these talented writers. Here are some links to the writers and the two writers' groups I belong to. I highly recommend you check them out! 

Clear Creek Writers
Green River Writers
Annie Jones or Dear Helen Hartman
Laura Resnick, Ann Gabhart, Virginia Smith and Sherry Chandler

Since I am still here on earth, I guess I wasn't raptured, so please check back in a day or so for more updates!