Walk with me. . .

 

Never am I speechless, to the woe of those who know. . .

(smile here)

I never thought I could do what I did last week

Hike a trail like the Cascade Trail. . .

but I did.

Breath is so important.

It is automatic.

 

I am making up a new batch of indigo

I fold and stitch

origami and cloth

photography and the manipulation of photography

printed

folded

architectural in thought

not scale

this is what I do

See here

inspiration

and work

progress

 

 

 

I had good company

I See, Said She.

Nonsense

 

syncopation between tree frog song to a  

Xfirefly blink is to the space betweenX

the words that point to the  silence

is stronger than the 17 year space

to the cicada mating call

 

du de du de du

du

v

 

 

du te du te du te do



du te do te do te do

“A writer - and, I believe, generally all persons - must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.”
― Jorge Luis Borges

Have you heard about fainting goats? Well, that is what I am except I am not a goat. When you shout or startle one it falls over in a dead faint. Once, I fainted while standing in line at the United States Postal Office. I was there to mail a parcel to someone in the military stationed overseas. I awoke in the postmasters’ office, then I puked all over the cold marble floor.  

This Sky This Place Two Times

 

1982 Is the year I read Isabel Allende while working on sculptural boxes for an upcoming show.

Chanteuse that she is inspired my thoughts for the female porcelain figures which were placed onto or into wooden antique boxes I collected through the years. Some of these boxes I painted inside with painstaking care with egg tempera of various skyscapes. Some contained words cut from the pages of" House of the Spirits" but mixed up to change the meanings. I still have this paperback book, somewhere. I have all of her books in hardback, as well.

 

 

So here I am, 2013 is the year. On land it is a different place but just a blip on the GPS locator. The other day I heard so much about an asteroid coming near earth; huge they say. So, now I am reading "Maya's Notebook,"  Isabel's new book. This takes place in my old stomping ground of Berkeley, California, and an island in Chile. It is like reading about family. I am savoring every word.

 

The top image is from a card I made and the bottom is digital manipulation of that copy I made of that card so long ago, now. The asteroid passing by and the words of Isabel were the start point for this piece. I am so different, now.

I like things that fly by.

As a child, I jumped off the roof of a garage, I had a cape like Superman, I am so lucky.

 

 

On Amazon is a video  that she shares about this book.

Maya's Notebook