Walking, Observation, Searching... and a Full Moon

I find books to read from many different sources...kind of fun really. Like a hunt. I can access my library from home and order anything I want, from any library...books, music, and films. Here, in Rhode Island, all of the local libraries are connected which makes inter-library loan available. I also now have access to the college library system which also is connected to other college libraries in Rhode Island and Massachusetts and beyond if need be. Amazing... I can find almost anything I want or need and do.

So how do I find what to look for, titles, topics...? It helps that I have an insatiable curiosity...always wanting to know more about something. I read little fiction, hard to find something that holds my interest all the way through. I am more of a nonfiction type of gal. I just finished Devotion by Dani Shapiro. A personal account of of what Jung calls her "afternoon of life" in the search for what she believes in, if anything. I found it via a blog that was inviting readers to list their favorite memoirs...Dani's name came up frequently.

In the case of the current book I am reading, last week my friend told me she was reading a book that she thought I might enjoy. She thought it reminded her of me though I am not sure as to why she thinks that. The title is The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey. I have begun reading and I find it fascinating and hard to put down. It really is about the power of observation and the peacefulness that comes with really taking in our world or then again, maybe the thing that is right before us. Being present, keeping our minds where our bodies are. We really miss out on a lot because our busyness, our speeding around getting from here to there...our thinking about all the things that most of the time we can not do anything about or at best can not do anything about at that moment in time.

Last night I 'needed' to walk as opposed to the exercising kind of walk. Filled with tension I felt I needed to walk it off. My ipod's battery was dead so it meant I had no music to walk to. At first just random thoughts and the walk began in earnest. I started to notice tree lines and the coming dark and then the beautiful full moon. My thoughts turned to all that I had been processing, turning over and examining for the past few days. Which then lead to a prayer, just this conversation with God, which lead to my recited the Rosary( from another time ) using my fingers as prayer beads. I was praying for my life, the lives of my children , my husband, grandchildren, friends...all the losses, all of the things that have been weights...and all the time keeping track of the moon and crying. I love walking in the dark...no one can see the tears. But more importantly, I was being present , in the moment, with no distractions...I came home lighter, peaceful, and somewhat different...I had turned a corner it seems, a necessary one on this map of life.

Have a great day and thanks for reading. And comments are nice...

Sigh of Relief...

An audible sigh of relief...I have just finished a six week summer session having took two needed classes. It was such a push because I was already exhausted at the end of the spring semester which ended in May. The following week the summer session began...so very little breathing space. I took a Painting Workshop, having taken Painting I, this was a needed elective and spent the time painting from a model and focusing on the figure. I also took my third(out of four needed) art history class, 20th Century Art. It was an intense 16 week course squeezed into 6 weeks, my head and body still ache...two quizzes, midterm, final, and a 6 page research paper, oh, and let me not forget all the reading for the class and the ten sources for the paper...exhaustion.



I have been going to school to earn a second degree in studio art with my concentration in painting, and have been going straight through for a year and a half now. Last summer I did both sessions. The work load is intense...so much so that I would never have believed it if I were not doing it for myself. So I am some what flat out tired but have accomplished a lot. For the summer I have been told to start right in and paint everything and anything...find my interest, what do I want to know more about, explore and continue to study the work of other artists that I enjoy or maybe those I do not enjoy and look at why. I have also been told to draw, draw, and draw some more, experiment, take risks. So I have my work cut out for me for the next 7 to 8 weeks.

So I am excited to begin after doing what professors have wanted now I can do what I want with what I have learned. I have weaving to do also for gifts and for sale. I owe a certain bride her towels before her wedding, and I have a garden screaming for attention...well the house appears to be screaming as well...just want to do the things I have not had the time to do. I have a very busy semester coming up in the Fall...



So for now just drinking my coffee, savoring the morning, and eavesdropping on the birds.
Lest one thinks all in my world is just about school and I have nothing else on my list of things to do...couldn't be further from the truth...a chronically ill husband, weaving to do, adult children with joys and problems that come up on daily basis of their own that I am either joyful or worried about...life just comes with it's own baggage but I do my best to wake each morning with a sence of hope and gratitude for what I am able to do by which reality usually hits by noontime...so today I prepare canvases, plant some seeds, listen to what ever child( they are always your children ) that needs their mom's ear, and take my husband to the doctor and maybe get to walk my very lonely dog and breath...

Have a great day and thanks for reading...

Lost and Found...

Her Grave

by Mary Oliver

She would come back, dripping thick water, from the green bog.

She would fall at my feet, she would draw the black skin

from her gums, in a hideous and wonderful smile----

and I would rub my hands over her pricked ears and her cunning elbows,

and I would hug the barrel of her body, amazed at the unassuming perfect arch of her neck.

It took four of us to carry her into the woods.

We did not think of music,

but, anyway, it began to rain

slowly.

Her wolfish, invitational, half-pounce, her great and lordly satisfaction at having chased something.

My great and lordly satisfaction at her splash

of happiness as she barged

through the pitch pines swiping my face with her

wild, slightly mossy tongue.

Does the hummingbird think he himself invented his crimson throat?

He is wiser than that, I think.

A dog lives fifteen years, if your're lucky.

Do the cranes crying out in the high clouds

think it is all their own music?

A dog comes to you and lives with you in your own house, but you

do not therefore own her, as you do not own the rain, or the trees, or the laws which pertain to them.

Does the bear wandering in the autumn up the side of the hill

think all by herself she has imagined the refuge and the refreshment

of her long slumber?

A dog can never tell you what she knows from the

smells of the world, but you know, watching her, that you know

almost nothing.

Does the water snake with his backbone of diamonds think

the black tunnel on the bank of the pond is a palace

of his own making?

She roved ahead of me through the fields, yet would come back, or

wait for me, or be somewhere.

Now she is buried under the pines.

Nor will I argue it, or pray for anything but modesty, and

not to be angry.

Through the trees is the sound of the wind, palavering

The smell of the pine needles, what is it but a taste?

of the infallible energies?

How strong was her dark body

How apt is her grave place.

How beautiful is her unshakable sleep.

Finally,

the slick mountains of love break

over us.

From New and Selected Poems Volume 1

Amy has been gone 4 weeks today...I miss her terribly and still find it hard sometimes to believe she is gone but today I received a card my vet sent with caring kind words...totally unexpected and I was brought back to that day but tonight opened my book, New and Selected Poems, Vol. 1 by Mary Oliver to look at papers inside it only to find this poem and the first line that jumped out to me was: "A dog lives with you for 15 years, if you are lucky." And I was lucky...So after the surprise of that line, I read the whole poem, realizing she was writing about her own loss of a dog...amazing, I can always turn to Mary Oliver and she can express for me, through her own grief...to express for me even when that was not my intention, or even knew it was there to be read regarding the loss of her dog...I was actually looking for something I have lost track of and it belongs to the library, have not seen it sence the day Amy died...life is funny, you get what you need sometimes when you are least expecting it...the item is still missing.

It was so comforting to read comments yesterday...others coming up a long side and speaking a few words is so encouraging...thank you. Animal people are some of the best, kindest people...

Thanks for reading...have a great day.

Amy

This is Amy... she was a little 13" Beagle who was just shy of her 15th birthday. She had been a fixture in our home because she had been here as long as we were. Most people think about decorating their new home...I on the other hand just wanted a dog after years of apartment living...so I brought home a dog.

I said good bye to her on May 27, 2011...I had no idea I would be so moved by the passing of one little pup. She had changed from a terribly timid dog all her life(that is how she was born) to extremely funny, deaf, pushy old 'lady'. She begged, jumped on us for our food, and because of the deafness nothing scared her any longer. She just walked with an air of confidence she never had before. She was pretty funny.

Then all of a sudden her age caught up with her and she was dying...still can't go there. No warning, five days of denial, that's it...then she was gone. I did get to love her, hold her and even gave a bath to sooth her. But I do have funny, light hearted memories of her that I now allow to come out and comfort me. Like how she would forget about her terrible fear when it snowed and she would run and sail off the deck with beagle ears out straight like little wings along with her out stretched legs and land in the snow. Where that came from I will never know but being a snow lover my self I always enjoyed her response, that was always so out of character...



Maggie misses her, sometimes seems to be looking for her and has changed her napping spot as they always napped together. She always stays with one of us now and sleeps in my room. It occurred to me that Maggie had never been alone, she came here as a 7 week old pup 9 years ago and Amy became surrogate mom. And now she is gone...



Rest in Peace my sweet, funny Amy girl...I so miss that wise little face peering out at me from those dark seal eyes.

Thanks for reading...it has been a while I know.

Noticing...

A long, difficult week has come to a close. There has been much to process, to ponder and to pray about. Children who are now men with children of their own, people from the past who we have not seen for years, both friends and family, new family members met. Information exchanged, sadness about how we only see each other at funerals. Suggestions on how to change that ...but I fear we will not, we will probably in most cases carry on with our lives.

I am very tired, weary even...but still much to do, much I want to do, and will do. Maybe that is what makes all the difference. Not to sit in sadness but rather to put it in a sack and bring it with us if need be, but to 'carry on'. Very important to keep moving through life, one foot in front of the other. Birthdays, Water Fires, studying, Grandson headed back Tuesday to base after his leave before deployment in August to Iraq



...as I said much to pray about, much to do these next few days and always writing in my journal...thoughts, some flower petals, and an obituary, all pieces of one's day are entered. Even my empty loom is glanced at, longed for...thinking it would be nice to sit and weave and start up a rhythm to life again. Maybe pull out my paints, wet my brush...find those parts of me that have been shelved for a variety of reasons. Not a good sign when one's paints and brushes must be 'pulled out'. They should have been out. But I am feeling like I want to do these things, so all is not lost.

I turned to Mary Oliver this morning and found this poem from out of her book, Thirst. I think it speaks well to where I am this morning.

Heavy

That time I thought I could not
go any closer to grief without dieing

I went closer, and I did not die.
Surely God had his hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was no where to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it-
books, bricks, grief-
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes,now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled-
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love to which there is no reply?

-Mary Oliver



So carry on today and have a wonderful day of noticing and admiring...I am looking forward to my day of noticing and smiling and sighing with gratitude that I am here to admire.
Thanks for reading

Live and Find Joy...

I guess one only feels like they can only post on their blog when life is smooth and one appears with their best foot forward so to speak...but sometimes life just does not cooperate. Some people seemingly have an easier time than others but I realize that is only on the surface in most cases. So I post this morning in the midst of choppy waters, approaching storms, and maybe some calm after the storm...




There is always the clean, calm that appears after a storm. I just need to climb on, embracing what is, and see where I end up.


I am tired,mostly emotionally but physically as well. I finished the Spring semester well but exhausted, then turned around and registered for Summer sessions, both of them to take the two out of four art history classes I need to take. Not exactly drawing and painting or generally making art... No, quite the opposite...massive reading, quizzes, midterms, finals, papers, all times two. It is pretty intense because these are classes meant to run 16 weeks of a regular term and it is being squeezed into 6 weeks which leaves me no time for anything. Yet, I am enjoying what I am learning in spite of myself. It is answering some questions as well as confirming some thoughts I have had. I am still amazed that prehistoric people had the drive to make art...of course it was not art at the time but rather a recording of life and artifacts that were made as functional objects, yet I am awed by it. I wonder what they were thinking as they were drawing on the cave walls. Actually they put charcoal in their mouths along with water and saliva, chewed to mix and sprayed...can you imagine us in a class, spraying...sorry, I digress. Just amazing, the creative drive has always been a part of our DNA it appears. Some of the drawings of the animals are quite accurate. One can tell the power of observation was at play as well as memory.

Sometimes I get pretty discouraged, not a hard thing for me anyway. This is different though...I get differing responses from people and some of them sting. I have a degree so the question arises, why do this again? I explain and the blank look is still there. I really am not 'doing this again' because I am 'only' ( I jest ) have to do the art requirements, 51 credits plus some, but I am not at that place yet...I would like to work for a BFA which is a professional degree and used for going on...but I do not want to get ahead of myself. Suffice it to say I can't get there from here unless I do what I am doing. A BA in psychology won't do it for me. But then there are the friends and family who do hold me up and push me forward. Who understand I can't be in two places at once. Who don't care what my plan is but rather they just know it is very important to me. I can say to them what the hell am I doing? And I have those days where I ask that question. But then you have a friend that answers that question with a few words that can make all the difference.

"The studying really sounds grueling, but I would definitely stick with it. In the end, I'm certain it will open up new opportunities that you don't have now. Who cares what other people say or think. They are not you! Those off-handed comments can be defeating, I know, but we just need to ignore them"

...and ignore I try. Thank you my friend...

So onward to reading a few more hundred pages this week...on tap for this week are Jewish, Early Christian and Byzantine Art, Islamic Art, and Art of South and Southeast Asia before 1200. Three chapters a week on average...studying for tests weekly and the paper that needs to be written...This session is finished August 13. Need a break.

Then 2 weeks of some errands and orientation as I have been accepted into the college officially as a Second Degree Student...I need to get near the water and put my feet in, after all this is the Ocean State. You can not live here and not do that...it's a rule.

All of this seems all the more poignant to me today. Life is fragile and goes by with the blink of an eye...My brother in law was removed from life support this past week end. His sons wanted him surrounded by family as he slipped away so we stood there with him...I still have not processed this yet...He had back surgery, developed pneumonia and mercer and just never came back. Two of my children were with us as my husband said what he need to say to his older brother who was a father figure of sorts. They had been estranged... as families some times tend to do, fractured and split. Unfortunately we are both from such families...Hard.

This photo of my youngest daughter on here third birthday with her cousin, Steven, three weeks older than her twirling joyfully and just having fun on a day when we were all together. Steven lost his dad Sunday...





So all this to say Live and find Joy...live your life on your terms and work on those relationships...family and friends. Some of those friends are your family I know in my case they are.

Rest in Peace, Bobby...


Thanks for reading. Have a blessed day.

Lay Me Down