Morning

This morning I discover yet another variation to Glorify Morning.  As I kneel to focus the camera, bzzzzzzzzzz!  Bumble buzzes in and goes to work, completely ignoring me.  His hunched little black body really reminds me of Emerson.

 
We are getting there, my camera and I.  I cannot get enough of the blue-on-blue of a sunny summer morning.  Right now this is my dessert.

A trio of lovelies.  This is how God shows me perfection, as I could never dream this up by myself.

There is a tangle in my heart.  It is a good thing, of course.  Tendrils.  Opening blossoms.  Open-faced and cheerful.  Petals.  Color.  Seeds maturing.  Seeds for next year.  Seeds for the birds, right now.

A tangle.  

I love you.

xoxo

LC

First Ever Annual Arts Sonoma Festival '10!

So, we all woke up really early after hardly sleeping and schlepped  our work to the Wells Fargo Center for the Arts.  Skipping breakfast did not dampen Hanya's spirits, but did drive our vegetarian to the Lay's Potato Chips because, seriously, there was no food in sight.  Mine was measured, weighed, and hidden!

Hanya is a Landscape Artist.  Her connection to the land infuses her work with color, motion, atmosphere and depth.  In her work the landscape shimmers with emotion and passion.

Laura Paine Carr's corner, not quite how it settled, but getting there.  I was able to use both sides of my space and still create a welcoming little corner.

Set-up in the Atrium:  artists have a way with space!  They bustle and concentrate,  work hard, fret, fuss, and cheer one another on to the finished booth.  Of course quite a lot of visiting gets to happen as well.

This event was the first of its kind in Sonoma County.  Counties on all sides of us have had art festivals for decades.  Of course, Sonoma has focused on wine; "Wine Country!"  Meanwhile there are artists, writers and musicians everywhere.  Seriously.  Everywhere.  It is quite amazing, really.

I might add:  our corner of the world is beyond amazing.  We are so blessed.

Pamela Heck is a very eclectic artist.  Her gourds invite the viewer into the realm of the fantastic, peopled with mermaids, fairies, and dreams.  This gourd is of deeper hue than I was able to capture.  Her gourds also bring the sacred to life.

Pamela's paintings are deepening into her own style of Realism.  This is one of a series which depicts her sons.

Believe it or not, but this is a gourd.  She is not only captivating, but regal, mysterious.  Gives one pause.

Ruth Cardin's beaded jewelry leaves one breathless.   Her pieces are meant for Royalty, that's what I have to say about that.  Can you imagine?

Want to know something wonderful?  She is making me one!  

Here she is, Beautiful Woman, wearing the very first beaded necklace that she ever created!

You MUST enlarge this photo and enjoy the work, design, aesthetic, and all the faces!

I do not personally know this artist, but I want to!  Her name is Laurel Begley, and I am going Christmas shopping at her place.  

Can you imagine a cup of tea with a cookie, holding this small cup and saucer in your hands?  Perfection.  Even better, imagine two of them, and sharing tea with a friend, or Little Person!

Two girls came to Hanya's booth and were intrigued with her palette.  She taught them how to hold it, balancing it on the fore arm stabilizing with the thumb.  It isn't easy!

Outside the door from my booth stands this sculpture, Osprey and young with a salmon.  By afternoon the sun splashed golden all over it, the cast bronze came alive.

Artists are learning to market their work.  Of course, many are already into this aspect of their art.  I will correct that statement:  I am learning to market my work.  This event was a good one,  showcasing artists in our area.  As events go, it was rather impromtu, but so much good stuff came together, impressing those who did attend.  In our area, at this time of year, one can go from town to town, and take in festivals, farmer's markets, concerts.  Arts Sonoma Festival will be one to watch grow, and even better, one in which to participate.

Fun.  And I sold a painting!  It is going to a loving, spiritual, generous home.  In Love. 

Thank you, Gail.

xoxoLC

Mumbling

Just unfurling today, such a pretty face.  

These Glories are my miracle for today.

Feeling a little discombobulated:  thinking(stop that) that I should branch out and photograph something more ...  more something.  I mean, this must be getting old hat, or boring, or less exciting, than, than what?  If this apple tree could talk, would she say that it's boring standing in the orchard, day after day, week after week after year after year?  "Damn worms, you're back this year?  Didn't get your belly full last August?"

A Sunflower a Day keeps the insanity at bay.

If all goes well.

Which it does.

xoxoLC

Beginning celebrations

All promises swell within the pomegranate.  Mmmmmm.  All those red, juicy seeds are busy becoming.  School started for my grandkidlets this morning.  In conversation with daughter Sarah, I realised that starting school mid-August seems unfair to Mama's and children.  Of course, most of what I have known, or thought that I knew, or even got used to over time, seems to not apply today.  Annie couldn't hardly wait for First Grade to get going.  Kai, on the other hand, is accusing his mother of child abuse and abandonment, and threatening to have her put on house-arrest should she go through with this First Grade Thing.  Last night his Mom, (my Elisabeth) said that to Kai, "First Grade is like the F-word!"

I for one, have always loved the beginning of classes.  I love the supplies!  Sharp pencils, new crayons, new crisp notebooks, new books, oh the list can go on and on.  I do love new.

This morning I found new blue.  Up until now all the Glories have been the deep purple of Grandpa Ott.  Today, newly unfolded and the size of a saucer, was this beauty.  Up high above my head is a blue striped one, but to photograph it I am going to have to move the ladder, and I don't feel up to that right now.  Maybe later.

Yes.  I have to show you another Butternut Squash.  Oh.  Yum.  Isn't it beautiful?  Truth be known:  I am loving this cool summer.  It is so easy to take walks, to work in the garden, to go to "work."  It is pleasant to not be roasting, or sweating, or gasping from a wall of heat outside the door.  Now.  We are experiencing a mild summer.  Parts of the country are experiencing hardship from drought and dire temperatures.  The monsoons in Pakistan have released 10 times the 'normal' rainfall.  Millions and millions of people are suffering.

Today one of my assignments is to start a new notebook, it goes with my new plan (which is really the ongoing Plan of the Universe as regards LC).  Daily I am to record miracles that I notice.

My grandchildren, marching, skipping, smiling, crying, dragging off to school are each and every one; a miracle.  My sister is a miracle.  My assignment is a miracle (as is me doing it!).  My daughters and sons are miracles.  Of course, my husband is a miracle, too.  Oh, Emerson and Luna are miracles.

I took a long walk this morning.  By myself.  I am a talkative kind of person, and walking can be a solace, peaceful and beautiful as I make my way through the vineyards and the river banks.  Today I needed to have a long talk with myself, and I did.  I needed to speak out-loud with God, with the Goddess.  I needed to claim my spiritual life, my own epiphanies, my own Miracle.  Wow.  Perhaps I should patent this method!  Guaranteed Miracles.   Over two miles melted under my Keens, and I covered several large subjects, out loud.  At one point (yes, I was in animated conversation with myself) I realized that I was passing right through a group of workers who were taking a break from the vineyard.  I realized that they were all staring at me, some with shall we say, an amazed look (do you think they saw the miracles?).  Well.  I just kept going.  Those who know me too well, know that it is a major miracle that I did not scream and jump sky-high, being startled by the fact that there are other people on the face of the Earth besides me.

I pretended that I was talking on a cell phone which was hidden in my pocket and which had a wireless connection to whatever.  I mean, whoever.  I was talking to God.  Who cares if I had a phone or not?

So.  That was my miracle today.  All is well.

I love you.
xoxoLC

A little progress in the garden

It is possible that the waiting is coming to an end.  Tomatoes are ripening, regardless of the long, foggy mornings.  Some are cracked, some are not living up to their names, but there is fruit, and it is turning to color now.  No more complaining, they're doing it.

Golly.  Sorry about the blur.  I have said this before, but once again I note: clean camera.  These have my favorite name:  Purple Smudge.

Whee!  Sunflowers.  As I was standing there, the Honeybees were coming in with dexterity, sure aim, and festive buzzing.

And loading pollen with aplomb?  I love Honeybees.

They are in the squash blossoms, too.  

Look!  It's working!  The first Cinderella Pumpkin to set; I believe she is settling as I am crawling around under her broad, green leaves.  Look at the light glowing from within, as the magical pollination celebrates life.

I had better find my Hafiz!

He would like this.

xoxoLC

A Photo Essay

Friday we drove up Highway 101, deep into the mountains and woods.

Arrived at camp, unpacked and all that, and then began dinner preparation.

These are the shuckers.  A very excellent team.

Saturday we headed out, North.  Up 101 to the Honeydew turnoff, head West.

Note: it is a loooong, winding road.

Up mountains, around mountains, and up some more mountains.

"Wait!  Papa!  I want to see if there is a lid!"

The top.  

And we are going to the bottom.

(this does not do justice to how far down it is)

The bottom!

Crossing the Mattole River.

Bandits at the picnic.

Cousin Tim.  Sister Rosalie.

1955.

Brother Bob.

Thinking.

Politics.

Uncle Bruce.

Grandma Annie's little brother.

McCleod.

Uncle Bruce's Great-great Grand Daughter.

(melt)

Stop!

I have to capture that!

It looks like you're having fingers for lunch.

Rebekah's lunch on Papa's arm.

That's Aunt Cleo's famous berry salad.

It was REALLY windy.

And this is one of the reasons we love Papa:

He is very patient.

Lola.

The Gypsy Cobb.

Cousin Joyce.

She is celebrating her 80th birthday!

I am not joking.

Cousin Joyce's daughter, Cindy.

Mary riding Ruby.

Girls on horses.

New friends.

They just can't get enough of themselves!

Home again, home again.

Over the mountain.

Whoops!  A pothole in a shady spot.

Flat tire.

Are you kidding?

You're taking pictures?

Isn't anybody upset?

Well, no.

I am not upset.

Look!  Papa knows how to do this.

We are safe.

Found the jack parts in all the places that they're hidden.

Mary found the jack under the back seat.

Wow.

Back to camp.

All day Sunday.

The Eel River.

Yes! 

And the baby Corn Tiger.

And many, many photos.

Pennyroyal mosquito repellent.

Nonnie and Papa and their Pennyroyal.

Thank you, N2.

For your generosity.

For your friendship.

For Being

You!

xoxo

LC