Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2018

The moon for a new year

I spent the week getting the end of year books done, and am pleased that we did so well with the first full year of the non profit. We are starting the year without any debt encumbering us as we move forward, a barn addition was built, the hay is in, the vets are always paid pronto and the feed/costs I estimated were pretty spot on. There is so much we've accomplished, and so much more to do, and learn, and grow.

I want to put more art back into he mix though-I want to open the barn up for drawing days, where people can come for one to two hours with their own drawing tables, sit amongst certain animals and draw, or write, whatever they choose.

I want to find better ways to see people in the winter with the Llama of Love, and work on helping The Teapot become a therapy guide.

I want to have some doll workshops.

I want to expand the Old Kitty Knitty Club to do good with their knitting needles.

I want to have more time with Boone next spring.

I want to never forget the amazing presence of the moon...the circle.


You have noticed that everything an Indian does in a circle,
and that is because the Power of the World always works in circles,
and everything tries to be round.

In the old days all our power came to us from the sacred hoop
of the nation and so long as the hoop was unbroken the people
flourished. The flowering tree was the living center of the hoop,
and the circle of the four quarters nourished it. The east gave peace
and light, the south gave warmth, the west gave rain and the north
with its cold and mighty wind gave strength and endurance. This
knowledge came to us from the outer world with our religion.

Everything the power of the world does is done in a circle.
The sky is round and I have heard that the earth is round like a ball
and so are all the stars. The wind, in its greatest power, whirls.
Birds make their nests in circles, for theirs is the same religion as ours.
The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle. The moon
does the same and both are round. Even the seasons form a great
circle in their changing and always come back again to where they were.

The life of a man is a circle from childhood to childhood, and so it is
in everything where power moves. Our teepees were round like the
nests of birds, and these were always set in a circle, the nation’s hoop,
a nest of many nests, where the Great Spirit meant for us to hatch our children.

Black Elk, Holy Man of the Oglala Sioux 1863-1950

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Who is two? A breakfast animal cracker toss!

Our little Ambassador of Love turns two today! He is still stinking' cute, and still full of love, all though on a quieter tone than when he was a rambunctious little sprite-the latter has been taken over by Opie's sidekick, Ollie.

We tossed animal crackers today in his honor, for breakfast, and The Misfits thought a breakfast party was swell-why wait until lunch or tea for a birthday party?

Monday, December 3, 2018

Will I ever learn

You'd think after all these years I'd learn not to store the Christmas lights in the barn.

Friday, November 23, 2018

Heaven just got a bit grumpier...goodbye, Rosie

"She is gone," I told them.

As I sat with the body I could here the news spreading amongst the animals,

"Rosie is dead,"

"Rosie has died,"

"It's over,"

and on and on until the last creature was informed.

I placed a drop of oil on her body,

"May you not feel any more pain, and may you never be cold, and may you find a good cloud, and may you see Stevie again," I said.

I wrapped her body in her pink blanket, made just for her, embroidered with words so carefully placed,

"The World's Grumpiest But I Am Fine As I Am Pig ~ Rosie"

We placed her in our clam sled, and began the slow march to the front garden, a place we had gathered before over the last couple of years. As the animals stood in front of the freshly dug hole in the Earth, Martyn helped me lower Rosie's body into the ground, her pink blanket covering her to keep her forever warm. I placed a shroud over her eyes, a shroud made from Assumpta's wool. Burial items had come from afar, and I placed each one, thoughtfully, and carefully around her body. I placed feathers with her for flight, a toy llama for safety, a pig for a reminder of what she once was, and on the top, a red rose.

Earnest stood of to the side, he had dressed in his formal cape and bow tie. The goose, who had slept amongst Rosie in the last two weeks, also came. White Dog watched. Pino and Paco both said their goodbyes,

"I remember when you arrived," said Pino. "I remember when you could run."

"I understand you," said Paco. He placed a slip of paper in the grave, with a special, private poem to Rosie.

Earnest said not one word.

We covered the body in ancient soil, perhaps Civil War heros who once lived here had touched it long ago.

When the final dirt was spread, Opie pointed to the sky,

"Look, it's Rosie, she has beautiful polk-a-dots now!"

The animals had paid their final respects, and as they left they all bowed to the nearby grave of The Head Troll. Martyn returned to the house.

I knelt down, and whispered one last time,

"Oh, Rosie!"

As I returned to the house, it was still, and clear, and crisp. I heard a rustling, clouds appeared over head, tree branches snapped, and a distinctive hrumf-grrr-arrrr-hrumpf sound echoed in my hear.

Heaven just got a little grumpier.

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

"Who says?" Me and the Teapot Pony start to listen




I worked the new arrival [still no name] this morning on a lead line to see what training she really does have. I can tell she has some foundation work, which was what I was told [supposedly she was trained to drive many years ago]. It's been awhile since I've had an equine 'project' so this will be a really good thing for me, I think, and her.

She is a pistol. She has a mixture of sass, but then walks over to you and puts her head next to your leg for love and reassurance.

She is rusty, but so am I, we will relearn together.

Today I simply worked on the basic commands. She did fine, although it was her first time out into the new barn addition, which still doesn't have the wood exterior up [happening in coming month] so she could see out to the woods and pasture she doesn't know yet. I let her trot her circle with her head out, she clearly was not paying attention, but I allowed it for the beginning of our first session.

This has to be fun or her, and me.

She needs work on 'stop' or 'ho', but all in all, we had some good beginnings. By about 20 minutes into it, she was listening better, turning her ears into me. Considering she has been here two days, I wasn't going to push her. I'm excited to continue though, and make progress.

I think she is going to be a mixture of Boone and Paco. Boone was trained well, a former cow pony, but he was desensitized -which had/has its merits. He is quite bomb proof [although no horse is 100%, and it would be foolish to not be aware of that on any ride]. But Boone needed a leader, and I had to learn that with him, how to be a better leader. This sassy lady is not fearful, which is good. If anything, she is a lot like me-when told to do something that might seem contrary to my liking, or makes me feel uncomfortable, I ask a simple question,

"Who says?"

There is nothing wrong with that, especially as a woman in a white man's world-why should anyone else think for me.

I have to show her I'm trustworthy as a leader. I have to be patient, and clear, and let her make the choice I want her to make-like backing up, or turning right-before I am tempted to over correct her, or tell her to do it again before she has had time to make the decision. Be still and wait. Let her make her move, it might be the right one. If she makes a right move, and is praised, she will safe to make other right moves.

It is pouring so hard with over an inch of rain today, so being able to work with her in the new barn addition was great. It makes me want to keep the barn addition a large open space but I am not sure if that is functional for us. If I were rich, and I am not, I'd build another small barn for therapy visits where I could also work animals. Who knows, maybe that will happen in time.

First things first. I really feel this little teapot of vim and vinegar is going to be fun.

Inspired by the new pony...available, just inquire

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

It's exhausting around here...

I forgot how exhausting Halloween can be around here, especially without The Head Troll to help organize costumes. This year, Paco was a ghost, he is always a ghost, but this year he simply asked me for toilet paper so he could make his own outfit-he did not want to burden me with sewing. I asked him how he got the TP to stick together..."Staples," he said. Yikes. Note to self: find staple gun and hide it.

And for some reason, there was a Marie Antoinette theme too.

It was Ollie's first Halloween. Like I said, Marie Antoinette was a theme for many of the goats, why, I don't know. I was told Birdie helped create Ollie's wig, which explains it's three foot height.

"Do you even know who Marie Antoinette is, Ollie?" I asked.

"A country singer, I think," he said.

At precisely midnight, according to Paco, all Marie Antoinette wigs will be eaten.


Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Old Pony

Back in the studio, feeling like I want to draw these days...hoping to do more black charcoal pieces.

Thursday, October 18, 2018

Present day ghosts

Inspired by the many who have lived on this land before us. This winter I'll be diving deeper into the history of our 1760 property, first homesteaded by The Rhoades back in 1760, one of the first houses along with that of the Hilton's. I've been to their burial plots, and the history is rich, I feel it when I walk around, more so in the southern Wood. Then again there is the Quaker cemetery over there too.

"Present Day Ghosts" 12" acrylic on wood, now avaialable at the shop.

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

The artist-Misfit caretaker-non profit idea generator's challenge

"Abandoned Property" now available on the shop
Summer is over and my studio time is calling me. I am finding that with the non profit work I am working harder to find a balance with that work, and my art/writing. This is transition and it will be fine, I am not worried. But it's funny how people assume the animals take all my time-they don't-but the elder visits actually can eat up my time a lot. Anytime I have an elder visit on the farm, there are many details to deal with-getting certain animals in certain paddocks, getting the path clear for elders, cleaning out the area where we sit, and then rearranging the animals again after the visit. So I'm trying to work through how many visits I can do realistically and still paint, write and commune in my studio. And for the record, I LOVE these visits. I love them. I get so much out of them. Besides helping others get some simple joy, it is truly I believe part of my particular soul work. But so is my art. I do think though as a full time artist since 1996, my 'career' and how I shape it has changed, and that is not unusual.

Artists and writers and freelancers must remain focused, but also...fluid...especially in how we market or share our work.

I remember talking to a friend, a successful children's book artist, who had her first child and she said that she eventually found she was in the studio less, but while she was in the studio she was more focused and got almost as much done.

When I'm not consistently working on creative ideas, I get a bit ungrounded somehow. It's almost like I get unmoored and float from one point to another without focus. At the same time, I have been very focused on the non profit, growing our reputation, our first event, building the barn which still needs work...we have only been here two years and have done so much, and our infrastructure is stabilizing, but it is also evolving. And I like thinking of ways to evolve it and share it,grow it, get donations...I like that challenge of that.

One thing I'm sort of frustrated with is my blog. I feel it's main focus has changed slightly...most people these days go to Facebook to read about Apifera. I can't deny that, I see it in my stats, and it started some years ago for many bloggers. I know some people who work from home that still go to blogs, and are less attached to being on a smart phone all day. I have thought of quitting the blog, but instead I think I need to refocus my writing here on short story. I can still update here, but most people are reading that on Instagram and Facebook, they don't want to come here for that.

So I am percolating.

I will be back to working on the White Dog book soon, and I want to start drawing more, really drawing...even if it only lasts a short time. And I want to work on my sewn creatures.

Here I go again...many ideas, many projects.

I did these little paintings yesterday and started three wood pieces. It always take a bit of slogging through the first steps back into the studio, and while I can't say these two pieces are on my top ten list, I like the mystery of the top one.

"The Peak" now available at the shop

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Thursday, September 27, 2018

Painting for Jason...and Maggie

"Maggie knew he was like a cloud now but sometimes he would be a giant blue magnolia in the sky."

Three weeks ago, I wrote about a friend who died by suicide. It was a great shock to everyone, and to me, and still is. I still have not fully grasped it and probably never will.

People have been grieving and sharing about their loss in many ways-sharing memories, sadness, shock...and also in more uplifting ways...the grief evolves down the winding road to what hopefully will be more peace for the people left behind.

Jason had a therapy dog he brought to his office where he saw his patients. Maggie had a real following and still does. I know she is giving comfort to Tony, Jason's finance, and I know she is cared for and loved. I know in my own life, I have lived with many, many animals, some who have gone through great loss, separation, hard times, or neglect. I've seen that animals do not react to death the way humans do, and why would they? I am not going to say animals do not grieve, I think they sense loss and grief. But I also think they accept it in a much different way than we do. I believe that animals, if given consistent companionship, food, shelter and caring, adjust to loss. I believe they sense our true intent, and they resonate with people that have consistent, pure intent.

I think of Tony a lot, and Jason's mother, and Maggie.

Thursday, September 20, 2018

One must decorate the llama

Yesterday I created a happy piece. I needed to just make something of whim that brought me joy, and I know it will make others smile too. You can purchase this as a print or art cards now.

Thank you, Birdie, for being in my life. I am so glad we found each other. You are a treasure to all of us.

Monday, September 17, 2018

Everything dies, everything stays

[This is available as a print]
Every year we say a bittersweet farewell to the sunflowers, goddesses in their own right. Such amazing presence these creatures have in the gardens. While there is nothing happier than a sunflower, they look so sad at a certain stage before death is final...but that is just human thought. They are busy spreading their seed by bird and squirrel carriers so that next year we will watch for their kin.

Nature is always my comfort when something or someone dies. It teaches that the energy we hold within our bodies never dissipates, it just expands or changes its foundation. When the rock is washed away by water, what does it become? It is part of the water. When the body is turned to ash what does it become? Part of earth on the ground or blowing in the air only to land somewhere to blend with the soil. We are Earth.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

White Dog the book...continues

I am making progress on the book about White Dog. I think one thing that I am recognizing is how much I have learned since my first book in 2010. One of the best things I did on one of my first set written books was to invest in the services of a really respected and experienced freelance editor who helped me shape the story, and focus the voice of the story–that one became became "Donkey Dream", and although I added the pie recipes and back end story later on my own, years later, the main story was very tight and good. I still feel that way.

"White Dog" is meant to happen and my plan is to finish the writing and art by year's end, then work at editing and shaping it thoroughly, and then have a fundraiser in spring. The other thing I'm realizing as I work on the book, I'm not thinking about the darn money that has to be raised. I am just writing and absorbed with the story. This is a maturation on my part, and also, I think, a sign this book just comes from a very special place. It matters not about money right now, what matters are the words and thoughts coming from White Dog through me. In some ways, I guess it is a co-memoir, but everything comes from his voice.

I aim to do him justice.

Thursday, August 23, 2018

The Misfits line up for.....scream, squeal, oh no!!!!!!

Update: Less than an hour after posting our needs online, we had our socks knocked off with support-we made it-THANK YOU and we feel so graced.

It's that time again...rabies shots!

Background: collective screaming from barnyard.

Now in Maine, we are in an area where rabies is a threat. We never did rabies shots for the barnyard Misfits out West, but we have opted to do it here. I have even asked the State Vet about it, and we decided it is worth the extra money should we have an incident.

It is costly, so I am reaching out to all Apifera Angels to see if you'd like to help offset the cost, which helps keep our fund healthy. We already did the donkeys, so now we just have the other Misfits to do.

Ollie is the only one who is excited about this. Being his first rabies shot, he thinks it is special that everyone gets to line up and get something. Opie knows what to do, cover your eyes!

I appreciate your continued love and support to help The Misfits! Anyone donating $50 or more can take home one of my books [your choice].

You can donate on the blog here, and if you prefer you can send a check to 315 Waldoboro RD, Bremen ME 04551 made out to Apifera Farm.

Friday, July 13, 2018

Calling all crows

I've always loved crows, believing them to be messengers. Anytime a crow showed up in my life, I believed it was a message of good, to me. As I've aged, I see it a bit differently, a little bit less about the message being about me, but about situations that need answers.

I used to have lots of crows in my art, and still do, but...of late, crows have been visiting Apifera. And I was moved to paint them again. About a month ago, we had many crows hovering around, landing in fields in flocks [a murder, I guess] and screeching in a way I had never heard. I began to see them making a journey from our farm out to The Wood, where I would hear them screeching. I assumed they were mating, and saw a nest up in one of the trees behind the goat paddock. But I began to research, and am learning as much as I can about their behavior.

I've put shelf stand on one of the pasture posts, where I hung a shiny spoon, and I place dog food kernels there, hoping to entice them to land and start communing with me. I know crows respond to consistent reward. So when they fly above, I call to them. Sometimes it feels like they return when I call, but...I think that is my optimism.

A crow can't be forced.

And we have the White Dogs, who ever since an eagle took a duck in Oregon, bark at birds of prey, even seagulls. The dogs are getting more complacent though...but I wonder if the crows won't befriend me because of the dogs.

I just love crows. And I love hearing about their intelligence-like that they make tools to help gather insects, like that they recognize faces and will remember a face that trapped them or threatened them. Some of the screeching could ave been parents teaching the young when a predator was near. The young often help with the rearing of the next fledglings. They mate for life. A crow in the wild normally lives a couple years, but can live up to forty.

A senior crow...wouldn't that be something to help? I will put my intention out there. But I won't force it. Like I said, you can't force a crow.



Thursday, July 5, 2018

Oh, Crow, I am glad you are back

This painting available through Sundance
I have always loved crows. In my younger years I always saw them as messengers bringing me specific good messages. I still see them as messengers, but in a more realistic way-it is not always about me or bringing me something that I want to hear.

Of late, we have had two to three crows, going from about a 1/2 mile radius in and out of The Wood, and at first I thought they had were using a nest in a tree by the new barn. I learned that crows use sticks, squirrels tend to use anything. Well, these crows have been screaming for days, I assumed it was a pair, then I wondered if a fledgling had fallen from the nest.

But now they have flown off, but reappear sporadically, such as last night, only to leave and fly off to The Wood, and I can hear them screaming. It is not a normal crow 'caw', they are screaming, like that viral goat that was going around. When I first hear it I went outside thinking maybe somebody was in distress, or had corned a baby in the barnyard or something.

I think they didn't like the presence of The White Dogs, who rush under and follow them when any large bird flies above. This started after an eagle took a duck back in Oregon. I noticed one of the crows came sweeping down into a paddock and left. Maybe they were testing the waters to see how safe The White Dogs are? I don't know.

I've been researching crows since, and oh my I love them more and more and think they need to come back into my art and life again...maybe that was their message. They mate for life, and the young help raise the next year fledglings. I also read the screaming I'm hearing could also be the parents telling the youngster to fly, and the parents could also be screaming at predators and is trying to teach the young who the predators are.

Friday, June 29, 2018

When goats and art merge...and then there is the calm

"Old Goat Revival Show" available as a print on shop
I've been going through years of art and choosing images to add to the archive print section at the shop. One thing I learned long ago as an artist-just because I have moved on from a painting after I finish it, doesn't mean that a new viewer will show up years later and see it as a brand new piece. In other words, I forget sometimes that my past work is as valuable as my new work, as far as making a living.

And it is fun to revisit these pieces for me. Sometimes there is a sense of melancholy too, remembering a time in my life when I painted something. And sometimes, I have to really search my memory for what was in my head and heart when I did a piece. But none of that matters to the new viewer of the art, they get to resonate with it all on their own with their own set of experiences.

I also had a very good couple of weeks in the studio, finishing off about 5 abstract canvases for Sundance [see below, I think these will be available in late summer]. I always amaze myself when I can still paint! I know many other artists go through that. These came out of me quickly, which in my mind means I really needed to do them. I need to be in the studio more, and that intention will become a reality now that it is hot outside, and fly season is about to reemerge.

One thing I am feeling though–I think I am just starting to really settle into our new life here in Maine. I was remembering that when I moved to the old farm In Oregon, in 2004, it really took a few years to get my legs back, and I didn't even have the blog until '07 I think. There was actually a time in my life when I didn't have Pino, or goats, or characters running in my heart and head, and onto the paper or canvas. And I have been putting a lot of energy into getting the initial year of the non profit up to speed-which of course will always be a chunk of energy and time. But I think I need to tweek things, and make sure I don't neglect to incorporate and merge my art into the non profit too. I already do, but I have been specifically keeping them separate. And the way Apifera was born was due to me merging art, books and animals. So I will be thinking about that and being less shy about showing art on my Facebook non profit page. It's tricky, because when someone buys a painting, it is not a tax deduction, it is how I support 50% of our living here. So I want to make sure nobody confuses that.

Maybe I over think things.

Anyway, the piece above is one of my favorites. I never sold the original. It was inspired by many of the crippled or elderly Misfits that were or still are in my life. I imagined how wonderful it would be if when I went to bed at night, they all got together in the barnyard and had an Old Goat Revival Show, and their physical limitations went away just for a fun night.

The pieces below are the abstracts I did in the past two weeks. They make me feel calm. I have had a very stressful week. It was a mixture of things-the state of our country, politics, the hate and shouting...I felt really hopeless, more hopeless than I have in a long time, so I turned off the radio completely and listened to Schuman and my favorite classical music a lot in the studio and just allowed myself to work with color and shapes. These are what came out. I feel my soul was reminding me that inside there, there is light and color, and it is my best self in there, it is the self I should project to the outside world. And it is easy to fall down a rabbit hole in these times, in any times, because there will always be dark and light forces in the world. Always. The underbelly of America never went away and we are all facing it head on, we must.

But these paintings were gifts of respite from it. I hope maybe they soothe someone else.

"First Fireflies on Path to Ocean"

"Ocean Cove"

"Fog and Road Find Old Orchard"

"Early Spring"

"Full Moon Over Garden"

Wednesday, June 13, 2018

I just had the most beautiful encounter with llama love...I guess I needed that

It was sort of a hard bunch of days for several reasons. Some I wrote about, others I kept private. I was back in the studio this week, much needed, and when I finished one of the pieces, the title came immediately, "Sometimes You're Upside Down'.

As an intuitive person, I know when I'm off. I felt that this week. Being off doesn't mean you are or bad, or unworthy, or doing it all in the improper way. But it can feel that way.

When I was doing chores this morning a beautiful thing happened, an encounter and I needed and I didn't realize how much.

I was mucking out stalls and cleaning water buckets in the outer barn, the sheep were still taking their morning lay downs, chewing cud in the shade. Birdie the llama was nearby, laying down. I approached her and she remained down, and I massaged her neck.

I got up and went about with my chores. Within seconds, I felt a presence, a light breath, and Birdie was standing directly behind me, her llama breath hitting my neck, softly. I laughed, she is known to do this to guests or vets, anyone visiting and talking to me will be checked out by Birdie. But when I turned to leave the stall, to go out to the pasture, she blocked the exit. I laughed again.

"Do you need more attention?" I asked, rubbing her neck. She then laid her head on my shoulder, another thing she likes to do while I cradle her head. Llamas don't usually like their heads touched, or 'patted', which is why I always instruct people to rub the neck. But Birdie has always been different from many llamas-even the breeder said this about her and suggested I not take her as she was already too interested in me, which would not make her the best candidate for protecting the sheep. I took her anyway.

I stood with her for some time, holding her head, kissing her nose and eyelids, rubbing her neck. At some point, I tried to again leave the exit. She repositioned herself slightly, and pressed into me, laying her head, strongly this time, onto my chest as if saying,

"Stop, stay here with me. I mean it, stop."

And I did.

It dawned on me that I am the one who needed this, not her. Oh I guess one can surmise anything in the woo woo world of animal love. {While I'm on that, please don't call Birdie one of my 'fur babies" it really wrinkles us Apiferians to be labeled 'fur babies. We think its fine if you live with fur babies, but we do not.}

I realized this week I was so absorbed in my 'upside downness' that I was a bit shutdown to Mother Earth, and I think Birdie knew this, or sensed my unbalance. I have seen Pino pick out the depressed one in a group, I've watched Opie stay put with one elder over another sensing something I'm not privy too but he senses it.

When I am unbalanced, I feel it inside. I feel uncomfortable with the world, with certain people, with 'the outsiders' which entails anyone outside the front gate. That's a lot of people. If I can feel it, I can rest assured my animals can, and some partake in healing, some down't.

You won't see Girl George coming over to commune with me, but Birdie, White Dog, Boone, Paco, Pino, Marcella-they are pretty tuned into me. There were many like this back at the old farm too. So there I was, trapped by llama love, forced to stop and care for myself with a beautiful long neck pressed against my heart. I allowed myself a short cry. Not a blubbering one, but the kind you have when you stub your toe and it hurts intensely for seconds.

I thanked her, and she slowly loosened her neck from me, but you know,I think she was prepared to stand there longer. I better check in with her later today, make sure I don't need another session.

"When You're Upside Down" an original