Sidetracked Charley

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 ...

For most of the world the title would mean climbing a mountain or selling their home and becoming a vagabond or getting married, yet again. For me it means pushing the envelope just beyond my comfort zone. I have almost all my life (except for one crazy year upon graduation from college) been the person who did not believe in burning bridges. Never know when you might want to cross them again. But I have always believed in strategic retreats to high ground or safe caves. Retreats are not as easy in a small community as they were in my moving around days. I find myself rather firmly rooted to my spot on the mountain. So retreat is to my studio or behind my camera on in front of my computer. I am not totally convinced the computer is a retreat, but that is a subject for another blog on another day. Retreat is closing myself off. And this year is about opening myself up. The year 2015 was about finally getting myself free of a toxic friend, bringing a new cat into my life, an...

Great Mullen on Bear Trail A former friend told me nobody liked me but her. She alone could put up with my aloof personality and separateness. I had a husband who said something similar decades ago. He died recently, alone, in a jail cell. But my mother raised me to believe the naysayers in my life. I seem to seek them out. If this is friendship and love then I prefer to be alone. I have learned to make friends with myself. And enjoy my own company. Not having someone to meet for lunch does not prevent me from having lunch out. I do not need to go to church, as mother often advised, to meet the right man. As if life is complete only if I did. I am an introvert. Not a solitary human. I have found other introverts on my path. And we enjoy walking together from time to time. On yesterday's walk with two friends and three dogs I found myself hanging back to observe. I do that a lot. I was not observing my friends so much as our dogs; our truly best friends. They took the tra...

Epiphany is the end of the twelve days of Christmas. The Mayans had a 10 to 12 day period at the end of their year. Days which did not fit into another division of the year. Other cultures in prehistory have had this pause, as it were, in the regular course of the year. A vacation from time? A period of meditation and reflection? Epiphany on the Christian Calendar is when the wise men finally met the baby Jesus. It is also when God appears to someone as in Allah appeared to Mohammad. Or it is the profound and sudden understanding of something. The example used in one dictionary was when you suddenly know where your missing car keys are. Really? I always see epiphany more like satori - sudden enlightenment and a state of consciousness attained by intuitive illumination representing the spiritual goal of Zen Buddhism. I took just enough catechism to be entranced with the minor days of the Catholic Calendar. I loved Epiphany from day one. It was such a non-holiday. I also about th...

Red Cabbage As I approached the end of April this year I looked out on my old poly tunnel and decided to not garden this year. I was facing two cataract surgeries with the limitations the post op care enforced, and a solo gallery show with more paintings to paint. The garden just seemed too much even if I did not redo the polytunnel. Besides what is all the lettuce I plant really costing me? Couldn't I just make regular trips to the farmer's market instead of growing my own?  Besides Mother had been the gardener. And living at 8750 ft. does not make gardening easy. Perhaps it is enough to just excel at house plants in the studio. New Inner tunnel covered by snow Late spring snows did not help. But the whole lead up and recovery from the first eye surgery left me feeling so helpless. Yes, gardening is frustrating but it does not make me feel helpless. I love having my hands in the dirt, seldom miss a morning or evening walking through the beds and talking to my pla...