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Mid-Winter Musings
It’s mid-winter in my world. And right now it means cold, gray, and snowy. As I sit at my kitchen table, tappity tapping my thoughts, I watch the snowflakes and the temperature fall. A chance of flurries covers the ground. I understand the term, “the dead of winter.”
I reach for my cup of hot morning brew, thankful for it’s warmth. A bird, then two, then 6 come to the feeders. In the woods, I hear spring songs.
Musings On 1.1.11
The calendar tells us that it’s the first day of another year, a rhapsody in 1′s. The numeral one, with it’s vertical stance, is much like the vertical nature of the landscape in January. Colors are soft and muted, occasionally punctuated by the bright green of lichens on a tree. We’ve had a thaw for the past couple of days, one that has reduced the mountains of snow to puddles of mud. The dogs are happy, sloshing in the wet dirt; they have no idea why they have been relegated to the kitchen until they dry. We’re expecting temperatures below freezing tonight; and the cycle continues.
Artful Musings From These Skilled Hands: A My Town Monday Post
I have mused about art many times, both here and internally, it’s creation and what it brings to my life. I have posted variations on this post as I continue to think about art. What is it’s purpose? Does form follow function? What makes a piece work—or not? And why should I buy it. Why buy art?
My friend Cat Bennett has addressed the question thoughtfully and eloquently:
Why buy art?
-To lift your spirit
-To expand your spirit
-To meet your spirit
-To brighten your day
-To brighten your home
-To brighten your life
-To honor an artist
-To declare your value
-To have fun
-To know yourself
-To inspire yourself
-To inspire others
-To share your wealth
-To laugh
So many reasons.
Art feeds the spirit and soul; it brings light and life to being. Art can make your heart sing and your spirit soar. Something that comes from the heart through the hands. It is no accident that there is art in heART.
When you support an artist, you affirm the creative spirit. You have the opportunity to see the world in a different way, as the artist’s vision is manifested in the piece he or she has made.
When you buy art, you support your local economy, both the economy of your community and the economy of the spirit. You enrich your life with the feeling and intent the artist has instilled in the piece. You can know that you are buying something that was made with care, one at a time, by hand.
Look for the mark of the craftsman, that which lets you know that the piece was made by a person and not by a machine. That which lets you discover the beauty in imperfection and in the profound nature of being. That which embraces the natural cycles of life and authenticity.
These skilled hands wish you and those close to you happy, healthy, peaceful and loving days; and healing and peace to this amazing blue planet we call home.
SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTISTS: BUY ART.
As always, please feel free to leave a comment, or a stone (o), to let me know you’ve stopped by.
Take a look at My Town Monday to see what others have to say about the places they call home
Musings
I think that blogging is kind of like today’s version of talking over the backyard fence. We sit with a cuppa and tappity tap our thoughts to our cyber neighbors. And when we have nothing much to say, we leave a stone (o) to let them know that we stopped by.
So, if you’ve stopped by, leave a comment, or, at least let me know you were here. I’ll raise my cuppa to you.
Musings on a Cold Rainy Night
It’s been cold and rainy here in the Valley these past few days. Not exactly seasonal for early June. I made a pot of soup last night. Also atypical for June. It reminded me of a date I had many many years ago. We went to a restaurant, and I asked the server what the soup of the day was. “Lethal soup,” she reported. “Lethal soup?!?!?” I asked. “Yes,” she responded. “You know, with those little round flat lethals.” I guess it’s something you only eat once.
Holiday Musings
Wednesday morning was an icy one, with the roads covered with a glaze of ice. Cars stood on the pavement, unable to move. The 4 wheel drive on our Toyota helped us navigate the frozen ground, and we proceeded to the studio.
The day was a good one, with people picking up orders and just stopping by to say hello. There is something special about being in a place for a while—and we have been in Peninsula for 20 years. Folks know us, they ask about our family, and we ask about theirs.
At the end of the day, we stopped at a friend’s to have a glass of wine and some cheese and fruit. Then off to the grocery store–we got there 10 minutes before they closed—to get a few things.
Christmas morning was cold and dry. The ground was frozen so there was no mud. We are beyond the days where we had to tell our children that they couldn’t wake us until it was light outside. We were up and on our second cup of coffee well before our daughters emerged from their rooms. The magic of Christmas morning is different from the way it was in years past, but it is still magic.
#2 daughter and I made pita bread for the first time. She made falafel and a delicious cucumber yogurt sauce to take over the stream and through the woods to Grandma’s house. We shared sandwiches, veggies, and other munchies. A pot of coffee graced the table. Grandma had made her fruitcakes, strudel, mince pies and peanut butter pie for #2.
Home for the evening, quietly enjoying the time together. Grazing, watching a move, and my fingers tappity tapping the keys. A good day.
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