Sunday Morning

Sunday morning.  Blueberries inside the pancakes. Simmered peaches on top of the pancakes. Slanted sun on the porch. Mozart playing. The pleasure of seeing it all come together—the sizzle of poured batter, the bubbles in the cooking cakes. So good when they don’t stick to the pan!  (“Is this heaven,” the stranger asked? Naw. It’s just Iowa.) Amen.

The Gift of Rain

Just as I was working on a rain-inspired piece in my studio this morning, the wind picked up in a way that said a storm was about to blow through. I was at a stopping point and went out on the front porch. What a gift! The rain transformed the scent of the air. It created magical patterns on the screens. It became a gentle percussion in the space. I was reminded of a hurricane day years ago when, locked up in the house with plywood-covered windows, grandma went to a window to peek out through a small crack. A brief ray of sun just hit the drops that covered our fence and its covering vines. A magical transformation! And grandma said, “Why look at that. Somebody has come and put diamonds all over our fence! How can that be?” The gift of rain. It was like that today. 

Journeying in Dreams

Aren’t dreams astonishing? As we sleep and darkness envelopes us, inside our heads unexplainable combinations of images and events create stories and suggestions. Remembering them, they don’t always make sense, Trying to remember them is not always possible, and yet there will be a nagging sense of having been someplace or having experienced something. In “Wingwalker,” I have drawn from dream and imaginary imagery. The parts tell a story: there is a journey, a sense of danger, the suggestion of possibilities, and juxtaposition of unlike elements. Awaking from this vision… what will have been experienced?

(My 3-panel work “Wingwalker” is included in the Nocturnes exhibit at Arts on Douglas in New Smyrna Beach, exhibiting till July 29. Such an interesting variety of works inspired by the concept of nocturnes. Nocturnes in music have a romantic or dreamy character suggestive of the night. In the visual arts, nocturnes deal more with the elements of nighttime.)

LONGING FOR WATER

This studio addition feels just right. I am drawn to water. On hot summer days I long for a cool body of water where I can dive in and feel the liquid blue. As a kid I spent most of each summer at our community pool. Water and its reflections appear in my artwork. So, this little birdbath right outside my studio window is an invitation to my neighborhood winged friends. I hope you will find this a place of refreshment. I’ll be watching for you while I work.

Change is Never Easy

DON’T DO IT! NOT YET! Cantaloupe seedlings on the porch are leaning into the sunlight. With a gentle hand we turn them so they will grow straight. “Noooo!” I can hear them resist. “We don’t WANT to change! We’ve gotten used to leaning this way. Now we have to do something NEW!” I get it. The light on the porch is warm and green, the ambiance among the other seedlings is inviting. They, of course, don’t know that this is just the place to learn. They don’t get to stay in their little pots. There’s a big world awaiting them. And so they resist change. I resist change. Unlike the seedlings, I actually know it’s tough out there. And change keeps you limber. Makes you stronger. Bending new ways is good.  But – oh – how I like it here in my little seedling pot.