“Basha”

Just put 10 new Works on Paper on the site…check ‘em out!

A few summers ago I had the privilege to accompany 10  young students from our little town of Livingston to our “sister city” of  Naganohara, Japan.  The cultural exchange between the two beautiful towns is the kind of stuff I believe strongly in.  Travel stretches the minds, hearts, souls, and perception of our young people by exploring and sharing openly with another culture.  Neither Naganohara or Livingston are actually “cities.”  Rather they are both small towns in valleys along rivers with natural hot springs near by.  At least those are a few of the reasons why we were “paired.”  I’ve zillions of stories from a grand trip.  The Sister City Program is having an auction soon so of course I donated art.    Does your “city” have a sister city?  “Ray of Light” donated to the Sister City Auction

Insecurity is itchy like a pair of cold clammy wool socks; it  poked my mind and stuck like a wadded lump in my throat.  The doubts stemmed from my new venture writing, blogging, vlogging and networking via the internet.  I love writing and sharing bits from my life.  People have responded by being inspired in their lives which makes me feel thankful for the many ways the world from my mountaintop can be shared.  I believe it is the right thing to do.  Writing and vlogging push my comfort zone.   Stretching my boundaries is important to my creative soul and simply the way I live my life.  Sharing is what artists do.  The internet encourages community.  But it takes time to write, to film, to edit, and to keep in touch. When the purse strings are tight I feel pressured to shove my passions into a drawer and focus on money-making.  Thus I found myself one morning last month doubting my efforts to explore art in various venues and connect with more people via the internet.  Then a little miracle happened: The itchy wool sock insecure doubts turned into silky warm stockings and left me with the goofy desire to Snoopy dance after I opened my e-mail.  One of my Patron Place Members sent a monetary gift via PayPal with this note attached: “This is a small token of my appreciation for the inspiration that you provide every time you share snippets of your beautiful soul-filled, unguarded life, your art, and your optimism.” Squashed.  The doubt and insecurity poking at me from the inside out were vindicated.  The Cosmos smiled a crooked little half grin AND nodded it’s head. 

I am deeply humbled and beaming from a bright dose of warm fuzzies!  One of my Patron Members just teamed with his woodworking father and launched an auction benefit…for me!

I’ll let him explain…

http://www.vernswoodgoods.com/amber-auction

The logs for the Devil Woman Saloon commission arrived on Friday.  The weather was fine for unloading…a good thing since it took a few hours, three men and a Terex to wrestle the 1000 pound logs into my temporary studio space.  Sure is some pretty (and pretty heavy) wood!  Phew!

Ok.  This is fun.  I have a jar with slips of paper holding the names of each Patron Place member (someday I hope it is a very very BIG jar!)  I sit on the floor, empty the slips of paper into a big crystal singing bowl, play a chime on the bowl while I close my eyes and think about all of you who have collected my work and become my patrons…

And then I pull out a name.

Right there in my hand is the name of a person who supports my art, my lifestyle, me.  I am full of gratitude.  Here’s the fun part:  Now I get to give back.  A present.  Their choice of an original work on paper.  Wahoo!

My little brother was the lucky winner this time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Mattie”

Howard chose this little gal.  “Mattie” will be shipping off to Minnesota.

Thank-you Patrons and thank-you little bro!  Your support means much to me! 

Here we go!!!  A new year!  A new moon!  A new video!!

“Spring”

edition of 36

The latest casting of my woodcarving “Spring” found a home just before Christmas.  Can I admit the sculpture is my personal favorite from the carved wood vessel series?  The bronze was only in my home for a few weeks and I miss the bugger. 

Josh from Mesquite Burl shipped the logs yesterday.  The project for the Devil Woman Saloon is back on track! 

The video above shows the beautiful logs which arrived from Mexico only to be sent back when I discovered they were not what I ordered for this commissioned project.  I actually found Mesquite Burl before I ordered the other logs and would you believe the folks at Mesquite Burl knew who I was before I called them?  I forgot how Josh came across my work but I am sure glad I discovered Mesquite Burl.  They didn’t have HUGE mesquite when I first inquired, thus the beginning of the fiasco with the logs from Mexico. 

Josh has been great to work with!!  He found a rather rare load of BIG mesquite logs and sent pictures.  I had a tough time deciding which beauties to buy.  Josh also sawed the logs in half for me and kiln dried them to kill the bugs.   Poor logs will have a bit of a shock weather-wise don’t you think?  Can’t wait to see the logs and get my paws on ‘em to let the sculpture creating begin! 

Synchronicity is like a wink and a grin from the Universe.  I love it!  When coincidence calls I am reminded of the BIG picture.  Feelings of being connected wrap my heart with hope and lift my soul with wonder.  While checking in at my computer this morning, “shadow” crossed my screen 3 times.  First there was the “Body Shadows” post and video on the Creative Everyday Blog.  Then I glanced at an article in “Livingston Our Town” while heating up a cup of tea and learned about Montana Shadow Maker’s ranch and charity work with miniature horses so I decided to visit their channel on YouTube.  The final shadow word was connected to an indigenous singer’s name as she chanted about winter - pretty fitting for a winter wonderland morning with a foot of fresh snow and temps below zero.

Years ago when I spent my summer alone in the backcountry of Montana as a Wilderness Ranger, my shadow was a constant companion.  Weeks went by without so much as a glance in a mirror but I do remember being shocked by my shadow once when I dropped my pack and climbed a ridge to a glacier mountain lake.  My shadow stretched before me – long , lean and exceptionally feminine.  Shocked me.  I guess shouldering a 70 pound pack and handling trail tools while traipsing around grizzly bear country had me feeling BIGGER, tougher,  and more manly than that shadow suggested.  Stopped me in my tracks.  I’m sure Momma Nature was playing a few tricks with the length and proportions but there was a girlie shadow right there on the ridge stuck to my shoes.  The lake was pristine.  Deep clear…inviting…and super cold.  I dropped my clothes and jumped in for for the refreshing jolt of a melted mountain snow cleanse.  Afterwards as I lay on a rock soaking the heat into my goose-bumpy flesh like a lizard in the sun, I remember looking at the mosquito bitten tan parts (and the not-at-all-tan parts) of myself wondering if they actually matched the strange girlie shadow. 

I wasn’t convinced. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m feeling a sparkly blue-moon-dust kind of  excitement for 1010.   Not only was it a big full BLUE Moon last night but there was a partial lunar eclipse as well.  We had a rather blustery night and a blurry sky which kept my dinner guests and I inside the cozy cabin for the evening’s festivities.  No one expected to stay awake ‘til the New Year after stuffing ourselves with elk spaghetti.  Felicia blew out the bright pink candles on her chocolate birthday cake, we drank more wine, and the sky brightened.  Sometime after 11 pm, the wind quieted enough to entice us out…and UP…to Leroy’s Lookout.  Toting plastic sleds, we plodded up the mountain to the humble little cabin I used to call home.  Perched on top (and cabled to the rocks) the plywood shack is where I lived my first winter on the Wineglass Mountain.  Memorable. 

We heard thunder, twice before reaching the cabin.  I have never heard winter storm thunder before.  I didn’t even know it was possible but the thunder added another rather auspicious punctuation point to the old year/new year night.  Three of us toasted at midnight with Jack Daniels Snow Slushies.  We hung out on top of the world and swapped stories while the fire crackled and the Coleman lantern hummed.  The valley stretched bright below.  Livingston lights twinkled.  The moon stayed mostly obscure in a winter white sky but grew potent enough to cast shadows. 

Magical. 

We bundled up and headed out into the moon shadows.  We’d stashed the sleds under a tree near an edge of the mountain top saddle.  I lined up in my sled and led the way down the steep slope.  Many years ago when I lived up there, I would sled down each morning in a cheek reddening rush while Shiva practiced her border collie herding skills and tried to nip my snow boots.  The slope is long and steep with curves and a sharp switchback.  We all screamed with glee (and fear) while the dogs barked in the moonlight. 

Laughing, sliding, and bumbling along, we made it back to my cabin at 2 am without any serious injuries.  I packed up birthday cake for my guests, took a handful of Ibuprofen, and crawled under the covers with a cold butt and a heart which glowed warm with blue moon dust.