August 29, 2011 by

What a merry glow!
I went to higher country last night to get a deeper, cooler sleep.
The wind and rain shouted their way through the Douglas firs and buffeted Talulah’s sides but
she held me tight and cozy, as she always does. 
This morning the air is clean and clear.
Clean and clear.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2011/08/29/1081/

Filed Under: idaho, talulah
August 28, 2011 by


It’s Sunday here.
A day of rest.
Frankly, I’ve been resting all week long, it’s been too hot to work, there is/are:

*the issue of a heat induced eczema flare up on all the fingers of my right hand (keeping me awake at night even though I’m sleeping with ice packs on my hands)
*the fact that by noon every day my studio feels like a furnace (and I’m not a Shadrach, Meshach or an Abednego — it’s scathing and rather killing in there)
*perhaps a sort of creative apathy here has me barely keeping my head above water, I can’t even sketch, lifting a pen to write or putting a camera to my face takes so much effort — I have these spurts of emotional expression dropping into metal but nothing I can sustain…
*a trio of dogs who insist on sleeping directly on top of my feet which is very sweet and snuggly but far too warm
*cold baths, too many to count, in the middle of the afternoon, every day
*long runs in the heat of the day (why do I push and punish myself like that?), dipping my head in the spring creeks along the way, up to six times over the course of nine miles — I have to run, there are so many things I need to distance myself from right now, the pace creates space…
*a forecast of thunderstorms — oh I pray, I pray!
*RW over in Oregon leaping out of planes into wildfires — remote and smokey, drifting about on up-air like a graceful jellyfish
*daydreams of the high country, snow capped Sawtooths, frigid mountain waters
*daydreams, I daydream so much these days, possible realities seem locked up in my mind and heart, I play them over and over, dusty pantomimes in my right brain that hold the promise of sparkle and gleam
*the slow and steady hunt for the perfect, gutted Airstream trailer
__________________________________

I’m ready for winter.  If it snowed tomorrow, I could die tragically young and happy.
I think of sitting in snowbanks, cheerfully brushed all over by ice wind and early nightfall.
Doesn’t that sound delightful?

Even turning pages of a book takes so much effort.
I feel stifled.
I am stifled.
I yearn for tundra.
Somewhere North of here, the snowshoe hares are thinking of turning white,
a squirrel is prideful about his caches of nutty debris,
a bear is fat on carrion and blueberries.

I’m drowsy with the rouge of heat.
This weather just won’t do.
___________________________________
Even in the heat, there is clarity:
I keep realizing, repeatedly, that some things are just plain ridiculous.
There’s no point in taking them seriously.
So I don’t.
_________________________________________
In the meanwhile, the parlor is the coolest place to be.
Rhubarb is chasing skittering seashells across the floor, the dogs are passed out on 
area rugs and the breeze has picked up, billowing the curtains like spinnakers 
and I realize the cool is coming
in the rain and lightning, in the turning glances of fall,
in the promise of snow, skis and short days.

It’s hot.
But I don’t care.
I’m taking myself running
just so I can enjoy the freshness of 
a good dunking in a mountain stream.
We’re in the calm before the storm now with huge dark clouds looming and hinting at wrath above us.  Let it rain.
Oh, let it rain.

x

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2011/08/28/1080/

Filed Under: on afternoons like these
August 24, 2011 by
So every day

I was surrounded by the beautiful crying forth


of the ideas of God,

one of which was you.
[Mary Oliver]

[sterling & 23 karat gold]

I finally finished this little fellow today!
He’s been on my studio bench for weeks now.
This is really, really,  just a dear little ring.
The ring band and bird were sculpted and cast separately — the ring band looks almost like a twig, it’s so magnificently irregular and textural. The bird is a fairly sweet and simple form, without being abstracted.  Quite nice.

He’ll fly his way into the Etsy shop later this evening!

I hope you’ve all had a wonderful day.
It’s time for a lime popsicle break here
and then a long, long run with Farley up on the mountain
before I relax for the evening…I’m thinking
caprese salad, lemonade and a good book out on the front porch.
How about you?

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2011/08/24/1079/

Filed Under: naturally occurring objects, New Jewelry

A Short But True Story:

August 22, 2011 by
When he opens up a map 
it can be very difficult to get his attention.
 So I just jump around and scream:
“Catch me, Robert!  Catch me!”
Until he catches me.
Filed Under: boy howdy i love that man, i should have been a ballerina
August 19, 2011 by
Last night, RW came home for a visit.
It was quite by surprise.
I had been up the mountain running.  It was dark when I opened the front gate and walked back into the yard with the pointers.
On the front porch was a quietly burning candle, an incredible and shockingly beautiful handful of osprey feathers,
a delicate little teacup and a perfectly preserved hummingbird.
I was confused for a moment.
Then I realized the gifts were from RW, because only RW could give me gifts as wonderful as these…gifts so elegant, wild, delicate and perfectly meaningful to me in every way.
I ran into the house searching madly for him and found him standing in the kitchen
with his beautiful, crooked smile.
I fell into his arms and cried.

I haven’t seen him in a couple of months.
His presence…his presence here…is…
[……………………………………….]



Have a beautiful weekend, winged ones.
We shall too.
xx

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2011/08/19/1077/

Filed Under: gifts
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