Sunday, November 29, 2009


If posts have a jumbled appearance. Safari and blogger don't seem to get along and posting from Firefox produces a funky layout. So far, correcting this seems to be beyond me. Sooner or later, I'll get this figured out.


While eating a wonderful dinner prepared by Katydiddy and her most wonderful husband, I took my turn saying what I was thankful for.

This exercise started something like a nuclear reaction of realizations and emotions. I'm still entertaining my interior version of the China Syndrome and thought I'd get a post
up about blogging and the wonderful people I've found here.

There is, as so many others have posted, something very satisfying about having a place to share what you create. I've wrestled my way through the life sucking ideas that it's just showing off, an immature need for approval/recognition, and the ever-popular self-accusations of egomania.

But the furnace of my internal reactor has burned off the negativity and helped me realize that it's the sharing that gives the work juice. I have learned to be more authentic, to get over myself and to be comfortable in my own skin. Thanks to this outlet, I am simply having more fun.

Thanks to Randi, Sylvia, Kelly, dj, Mary Ann and all of those who have led me to art journaling and all things that spring from that. Thanks to Katydiddy who prodded and poked until I put up a blog and who never ceases to amaze me. Thanks to Pippi who reminds me that writing should be read. Thanks to all of you out there who inspire me to make art and write here, in the light.

Only you can prevent the genocide of the imagination.
Rob Brezsny

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Like the Header says, Images and Scribbles

One, only one, of the million things I love about art journaling is that it gives me a place to work on my old passion, writing, and a place to develop my new love, art. Here are a few pages I have all ready for words, and here are some words that I call journal gleanings. The snippets of thoughts that I dash off in my book, when revisited, easily turn into poems that give me the format to say what's on my heart and in my mind. And, I must add that another thing I love about this art form, brought to me by the generous Randi, is that it led me to blogging and the opportunity to connect with all of you.

This piece of writing was inspired by Mary Ann Moss. Link

Art Journaling

One day, far into the future,
people will offer
journal pages from
these times,
from today,
as “must haves”
for those antiquarians
who want to know
what it was like,
in the beginning,
back in these days
when all of the
beauty was still unfolding,
when women had just begun
to teach each other to see,
to dream, to paint and to record
their witness of the mystery
that surrounds them.


Do spaces hold onto their pasts?
Can a ghost can be
an energetic and an event?
Maybe it’s not so much
that ghosts don’t want to leave
as places don’t want to let them go.
I often hear the parties
that were held here
years ago.


A soul
dying of thirst
might believe
the smallest twig
can divine
sweet water.

The Con

Never spend
what you
see as
on wishes
for what you
dream is


It is only my arrogance
which leads me
to believe that I can
ever know where
I am or where I
am going.

It is folly to think
that I can choose a path
when it is the path which
chooses me. My only
choice is to keep
my feet moving.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The best of times

I have not been blogging very much because the only art I've been doing is a scribble here and a doodle there in my journals. None of which, I now realize, have I judged worthy of an appearance on the blog. Sheese! Well, it seems I've gotten over myself and here I am blogging again.

I am always fascinated at what the journaling process produces. If I tried, I don't think I could come up with these images. The words are simply picking up a pen and writing down what's rolling around in my mind. I realize I don't always give myself time to simply "think" just for the sake of "thinking."

Today I'm sharing photos that represent some of the really good day's I've been having.

Here is one that I altered for a sympathy card I recently sent. This looks, to me, like the welcome into nature and light that I suspect awaits me when I'm done here.

You all know how much I love a sunset and this one offers color combinations that,
at Laura's suggestion, will inspire a future art project.

A few of the ponies got past the pasture fence and decided to graze, just below the house, on the tender little ferns and grasses that begin to sprout as soon as we get any moisture. I have an app on my phone called Toy Camera that adds this wonderful aging and makes the sun rays a shower of light.

The harbor is in Ventura California, as in the old song, Ventura Highway. I love that the mountains and harbor are in such close proximity. The husband and I had a nice outing with a seafood lunch overlooking this view.

Now I have a real treat for you. Especially if you are someone interested in plein-air painting and the art of Early California. While doing a little research on our beloved old ranch, we came upon this.

Painted in the 20's, this is our house. We have many times visited the galleries in Laguna and we are pretty sure we have been in this one. While I have no recollection of seeing this particular painting, I do recall enjoying their collection of Early California. I went outside and stood where I think the painter probably sat. It was a strange and somewhat eerie feeling.
Obviously, I am not comfortable posting the actual painting since it is not my property (yet, that is). Going to make a trip down there to check it out.

Then there is this
I celebrated another year of my life early this month. The husband gifted me with the latest iPhone and my writers group brought chocolate cake and a bottle of red wine. All of my children, the spouses they have enriched our family with and all grandbabies, including the one due very soon, got together at one of my favorite restaurants for a delightful evening. I was very touched by their love and attention and the fact that every gift was a true reflection of my interests. It feels good to be with people who "get" you.

Rumi says,
"Someone who goes with half a loaf of bread
to a small place that fits like a nest around him, someone who wants no more, who's not himself longed for by anyone else,
He is a letter to everyone.
You open it,
It says, Live.

Peace to all.