…and straight into Kelly’s arms.
[Please click on this for a larger image…..so beautiful…this is a perfectly PERFECTLY captured moment…the world looked exactly like this from where I stood on the Mendocino County coastline.]
Sunday is Setting
May 31, 2009 by
The West Bench is blanketed in some unbelievable clouds.
My poppy bed has reached its zenith.
I’ve been in the studio since noon and have some girlfriends coming over for dinner, after which I’ll return to work until midnight or so. With the onset of summertime, I don’t feel guilty about embracing my night owl nature and working until 3AM some nights. It feels right and I make sure I do all my hammering before 9PM so as not to annoy the neighbors (though I think they are grateful I’m so small scale when it comes to forging since the gent who owned my home before me was a blacksmith!!!).
Kelly departed yesterday afternoon and while I had the very good intention of getting into the studio to do some work, my body felt ragged. I cleaned the house and rearranged my studio, painted a background wash on a huge canvas and went to bed early.
The presence of UmberDove was such a blessing. Her arrival perfectly overlapped the departure of RW on his first roll this fire season and we kept so busy, it was hard to find enough minutes in the day to miss him.
We spent, literally, every minute together making art. We only left Plume Gables to buy supplies or groceries. I now have a painting studio, Kelly took great delight in learning some smithing techniques, we did some sewing and then repeated everything I just mentioned until the wee hours of the morning. It was intense, in the best way.
We dined well out in the dappled sunlight of the yard.
And breathed in the expanse of Idaho while we watched the clouds sweep West to East; cleaning up this country and scrubbing the floors with zephyrs.
There were:
honest moments, silent moments, laughing moments, learning moments, vulnerable moments, moments of appreciation and wonder, moments of excitement, moments of elation….
Stepping back from it all, and reflecting on the time I spent with that woman, I cannot help but feel richer
and imbued with a new and fresh creative power.
But more than this, I feel like someone really understood my creative process and took a moment to speak Artish with me, and cultivate the concepts I’ve been obsessed with lately. Birds of a feather flock together, and we make a feathered pair like no other.
My mind is swimming with ideas and inspiration. I spent 3 hours sketching and writing before I fell asleep last night; dreaming of the possibilities that exist with metal, fabric, feathers, oil paints…I’m utterly overwhelmed. In every single way. In every good way. It’s like someone turned the faucet on and it’s running out of control, hard and fast, it cannot be turned off.
There are so many plans, so many ideas and time is so regimented and consistent. Couldn’t we squeak a few more hours into the day?
COULDN’T WE?
Dinner now and more makery later this evening, into the wee hours of the morning. My fingers, mind and heart are on fire. I could solder by touch, never mind a flame.
PS If for some reason I someday have to share a studio space with someone, it’s going to be Kelly. We can work side by side in the comfort and power of the presence of one another without saying a word, for hours on end, and then do it all over again the next day. To boot, we like the same music which is a big deal.
Good Gracious
May 28, 2009 by
Right when I thought I was about to lose my mind to this tornado of inventory building I had a pinch of sanity arrive here at Plume Gables and now self care has washed over me in a rogue and benevolent wave and all I can do is breathe and sigh and the reward of it.
Umber Dove has come to town.
She’s better than Santa Claus.
We’ve been sharing lunch alongside the grapevines.
Popping forkfuls of basil, mozza and tomato salad into our mouths.
Gardening for 10 hours straight.
Planting seeds.
Turning earth.
Painting our ghosts.
Dragging our skeletons out of the closet.
Pouring ourselves out (she’s a cup full, I’m half pint).
It’s a good match we women make.
She might be taller, but I’ve been running the in the mountains longer.
Midnight discussions about:
*conceptual art
*the word definition series and the weight of assigned words
*friendships and when to let go
*modeling in Milan
*the work of our men
And all the while
Pinkerton has been flipping his creamy fluff about in the verdant field of Plume Gables.
Penelope has barked at the mailman.
Farley has hunted bees.
It’s all so ordinary for being so extraordinary.