Sidetracked Charley

Samhain, or festival of the Dead, means Summer's end. It is a celebration of the end of the harvest and the start of the coldest half of the year. It is also the beginning of the spiritual new year. And perhaps the one marker of the year which resonates with me most. Time, as we mark it now, is an illusion upon which we agree for the sake of the smooth running of the cultural world as we know it. It was first needed in a formal state for navigation of ships. To determine longitude and latitude you needed a compass and time. Universal time. Greenwich Mean Time and time zones. And Daylight Savings Time proves it is a fairy tale. But agreement in that story told by idiots allows planes to take off and land continents away per a schedule. The Universe, however, goes by its own schedule, which we are told slips and slides some. Adjusting to those variances causes calendar adjustments now and then. Most recently to the Gregorian Calendar introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582. I

I think I would get the firewood stacked faster if I did not examine every piece. Mother called it lolly gagging. Teachers said I did not pay attention. And Miss May, who lived next door, said it was woolgathering, but sooner or later I would have enough to knit a sweater. Or write a blog or create a painting. Seriously there are some interesting things in your woodshed. And stacking firewood is not dissimilar from the Zen revolution of Chop Wood Carry Water.  "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water" And maybe checking out all the unique pieces of wood isn't exactly what the Zen masters meant by chop wood, carry water. But I find piece in doing routine and repetitive tasks. Gandhi spun wool, literally. I stack firewood or drive the empty miles of the high plains or carry water to my studio plants. And sometimes I find enlightenment and sometimes a good photograph or a painting or great piece of wood

Yes, I live at 8725 feet above sea level, a hardiness zone of 3.5 to 4. And a statistic quoted on a ski resort site says we get 210 inches of snow a year. Note: it is wise to remember never at one time and oddly not accumulative. It snows and it melts and then it snows again and that melts. The most I can remember at any one time was 72 inches over three days beginning the year 2006 with a whimper. And that snow hung around for a long time. I perusal of blogs of that winter reveals a lot of references to the Alaska TV series Northern Exposure, the Little House on the Prairie books, and blizzards in general. But that was a very usual year. Old timers said the worst in 70 years. Mainly what I dread about the approach of winter, thankfully late this year, is the approaching dark. I would not have to look at the calendar to know winter is coming. Like birds, who know when to migrate, locals instinctively know when to build up stocks of firewood, etc. With me there is also a need to

Orchids in the sun in my studio I took a break yesterday from an extensive pantry clean out to chat with a friend on the phone. She was decluttering her life too she said. I do not like the term. As an artist I find a certain about of clutter to be inspirational. And obviously so did Miro. Though frankly he was the painter of the most uncluttered canvases I can name. Miro's studio So, no, I was not decluttering my pantry and kitchen yesterday. I was repurposing them. I do like that term better.  Since late December of last year I have taken a long look at my eating and cooking habits and slowly re-aligned my diet to my body and its health. This has meant finding space for new things both in the nutrient area and in the tools for preparation. Clearly the toaster oven (used once in last month) had to go to allow space for the new Ninja food processing tool. Cabinet space had to be freed up for the salad spinner, etc. And in trying to find storage area for the raw cas

Denial, a refrigerator magnet I own, states is a Goddess-given survival tool. And women have used that survival tool for centuries. It isn't easy to stay in denial about the verbal and physical abuse women have put up with to keep the peace or keep their jobs or stay in a relationship. But there is a cost to keeping the peace. It steals our confidence and our freedom and our aliveness. We stay married to avoid being single or we find living single works best because the men we pick are wrong. We learn to pal up with other women to do things men get to do alone like long walks in the woods.  Some of us quit our jobs we sacrificed so much to get and keep.  I could not live with the compromise of keeping my mouth shut to keep my job. Mother said I was stubborn and had not learned the lesson of keeping silent. I would be happier, she maintained, if I was not so prideful and intelligent. I even toyed with becoming a nun. My aunt told me I could become a boy if I could kiss my el

When I was very young I was told repeatedly I was shy. I was always at the edge of play and when given a choice would go to my room and draw or to the fork of the cottonwood in the backyard and read. In school I always got the "does not play well with others" in the notations on the back of the card. My sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Hill, was the first to comprehend I did better on my own. When we had school plays or concerts to prepare for I did the scenery or was sent to the office to redecorate all the bulletin boards in the lobby of the school. In high school I never went to dances or decorated for them. My participation in school electives was designing the cover for the literary magazine. In physical education I liked gymnastics or modern dance. As an adult I hike with a couple friends with our dogs but not the Trekkers. I liked skiing because I competed with myself. Photography was always there in my life because it was something I could do from the edge of a crowd