Friday, August 31, 2012

Bloo Luna

Long ago, when I first started my blog, this girl was a pup.  A wascally chicken-chasing pup.  She still is, for the most part, though now that she is 6 years old(!!!) she has mellowed somewhat.  There are those who might take issue with that statement.  Har har.  

I for one, would not leave her unattended with a chicken.  That is for sure.

She shows me daily that life is for living.  Don't, she says, let the small stuff bother you.  Be real.  Show your feelings as the temporary things they are.  Be happy, there is no reason under the sun not to be.  Love your Mama.  She takes you for rides and walks and accepts kisses.  Well, except for certain times, and we won't go into that here.

Run hard and fast.  Play chase and tug-o-war daily.  Sneak cat food.  Wrassle Emerson into the dust.  Steal avocado pits out of the compost bucket, throw them for Emerson to fetch.  Sit, wait, lay down and walk nice.

And yes, she still remembers who Meat Pie is.  Say the name and she looks at the front door.  I kid you not. 

I love you Luna.
And I love being your person.


Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Warm Up. Write. Paint. Water.

Over the years I push myself to focus the Blog on the ART.  Perhaps just giving in to the fact that Life is Art would be a wise move.  You see, to get out of or into my house these days, I must step over this smiling, blue-haired, gift-bearing angel.

The garden reflects the seasonal changes which begin the moment the seed is settled into the earth.  Of course I lead the chorus of "Oh no!  Isn't it tooooo early for this?"  Of course not, it is late summer, almost fall.  The pumpkins are orange, the sunflowers mature, tomatoes ripe.

Cottonwoods are waving their shiny leaves in the breeze this morning.  It feels hot already.  I have watered the zucchini and basil, picked a clump of golden table grapes for lunch.  I am saving the trip out to the neighbor-goats with apples in hand for later, my before-I-go-into-town pick-me-up.

My planned foray into the studio will not be put off much longer.  The coffee waits its pressing.  I have started a large painting which at this point reminds one of waves.

There is a wagger on the porch, smiling her way back inside.  Oh!  There is another smile, the Labrador  smile.  His is harder to see as he blends with the shadows and dust.  His is more a swagger.

Surrounded by beauty.  Savoring the sensation and movement of what feels like a pause between seasons.

It is a good day, today.


Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Perculating Cobwebs, Cleaning & Bees

Moving along with the artichoke theme, I notice that even housekeepers in the wild have dust and cobweb buildup, carcasses in the folds, and general shrouding.  Helps me know that I am not alone.

Can the end of summer really be two rows down on the calendar?  Oh dismay!  Perhaps the worst thing is that this also means the National Elections move closer, and in this movement all the horrific negativity present in our culture is ready to inundate every nook and cranny of wired communications, written, spoken, advertised and generally poured into our proverbial coffee cups.  Daily.  Moment to moment.

Do not despair, LPC!  There is art to be discovered.  Painting to splash.  Words to play.  Hugs to embrace.  Images to stop in time.  Abstract to engage.

I enjoy my daily foray into FB (Facebook).  I am steeling myself for the endless political postings.  Perhaps I will relax, and "block" them, which can be done painlessly.  Or perhaps I will leave them for my own personal growth!  At times it is apparent that certain ruts in my brain have fossilized, and a good shaking vibrates newness into the area.

Polarized political punditing (hahaha!) has gone on since the invention of the mouth and movement of air.   Harm and good have  been the result.  Period.  For Ever.

The Workess Bees head out for the morning pollen gathering.  Their morning ritual dances communicate direction, type, color, and best route to the pollen source.  If something changes, like a gardener cutting the sunflowers, this information is added, the Bees share freely and make the necessary adjustments to keep the pollen flowing into the honey factory.

No.  They do not argue.  Or call each other names.  Or worry about who married who, or sexual preference or if pot is medicine.

I do not believe that I have ever noticed a worried Honey Bee.  I have found them exhausted and dying, but even then they do not appear distressed.  Just done.

Funny, but I was going to write about something else, though for the life of me, I cannot remember what that was.

Have a day filled with purpose, affection, good work and clear communication.

I love you!
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