This weekend I took the most incredible workshop on Annie Sloan’s Chalk Paint and its uses. A California stockist, Anne Skougard and the mini stockist, Kari Saupstad led the workshop and inspired us all. The creative possibilities of this paint are vast. It is simply an amazing paint. I arrived home filled with so many ideas and thoughts, I could barely sleep last night. I nearly got up to start a painting project.

The paint colors in this sample that I painted nearly match the vintage toile I used as a backdrop. Many of the colors in the toile match the colors in the sample. I love the idea of the two playing off each other and enhancing the strength of each.

Awhile back I posted some photos of this silk fabric that I stenciled. I loved the process, but not the paint. Now I want to try Annie’s Chalk Paint on some of my collection of textiles. I think it would be the perfect paint for this.

I purchased some really wonderful stencils while I was at the workshop and if anyone is interested, they can be found here.

This week I am going to experiment with the possibilities of this technique. I will be posting some photos here when I finish a few designs.

Friday, the 27th, was my birthday. As I was to spend the day alone, and not looking forward to this, I decided to travel to Seattle to see an exhibit that I had read about and knew was ending soon. So I made the drive on the 26th, spent the night and took in the museum the next day. It was absolutely AMAZING!! And I am so happy that I made the effort to go see it. Sometimes in life, it takes extra effort and inconvenience to do something, but if it is rare and special and promises inspiration, I will often go to the trouble to engage myself.

Let me tell you about the artist, Nick Cave who is responsible for these creations and this exhibit of “Soundsuits”. He calls himself “trans-artist working between sculpture, installation, performance, video, designed objects and fashion.” Since 1989 he has taught at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and is currently Chairman of the Fashion Department. His vision, talent, deep and ever-evolving insight and self-expression is so impressive and for me, very touching and real and absolutely magical.

Nick has performed around the world in his Soundsuits, and in one room of the museum are three screens showing Nick dancing and performing in his creations. I had a hard time sitting still. I wanted to get up and dance around with him in my common and boring street clothes. If only I could have donned one of his Soundsuits and let go of all inhibitions and just been truly my dancing, hidden vibrant self for one moment in time!

We were not allowed to take photographs, so disappointing as the Soundsuits were beyond anything you could ever imagine, spectacular! But as I sat on a bench in this one room, trying to not get up and join the dance on the screens, I took out my cell phone and clicked a few images of that moment in time……that very, very special moment in time.

Here is what Nick Cave says about the Soundsuits: “What is interesting about wearing these pieces is that your identity is erased. The sense of freedom and independence is so extraordinary – and the sense of allowing yourself to be that much more expressive.”

Of course, I have always known what is wrapped up in the clothes we wear, how we present ourselves to the world, what we convey. Are we sheep? Are we original? Are we in touch with exactly who we are? And if we know who we are, do we know from one day to the next how this idea will or can change? If only I owned a variety of Soundsuits!

But for Nick Cave, the embodiment of a Soundsuit is a magnification of so much more than any transitory experience. He says, “I am interested in working with objects that are taken for granted, laughed at or deemed less precious, yet have a certain insignificance in themselves….I was raised with a single mother and seven brothers; we all had hand-me-downs, there was not a lot in terms of surplus or art supplies.” He goes on to say, “I was always working with found materials….somehow you have to create your own identity through dress—-I might cut off the sleeves of a shirt or make a substitute for a pair of pants. You have to find your own voice in an environment that is limited in terms of resources.”

I spent nearly four hours watching, reflecting, going back viewing, and writing in this notebook thoughts I had, things I was reading, and quotes from Nick Cave. To say I was moved and caught up in the whole stage and theater of it is an understatement. It was, for me, an interactive exhibit. I could not tear myself away. When I went to the gift shop to buy the catalog of the exhibit, I was told that it had already sold out. Later, when I tried to order it from Amazon, I was informed that they were having to do another printing. I am not the only one with strong emotions over this art by Nick Cave. I think we all want to dance in the streets in our own unique Soundsuits, although many, maybe the majority, would never want to admit this fantasy. I think we would all be healthier human beings if we could embrace this individual dance of life.

When I was getting my degree in English, I had to take a literary criticism course and was introduced to the writings of Michel Foucault, the French philosopher. In the exhibit was a quote from him that seems to explain why people are so drawn to the fantastic elements and drama of this exhibit. Foucault says, “I dream of a new age of curiosity. We have the technical means for it; the desire is there; the things to be known are infinite; the people who can employ themselves at this task exist. Why do we suffer? From too little – from channels that are too narrow, skimpy, quasi-monopolistic, insufficient. There is no point in adopting a protectionist attitude, to prevent ‘bad’ information from invading and suffocating the ‘good’. Rather we must multiply the paths and the possibility of comings and goings.”

These Soundsuits are described as “full-body masks that release the wearer (actual or illusory) from his day-to-day reality, allowing him [or her sic] to inhabit another, very different one.”

Essentially Nick Cave “invites us to dance, play, and to dream with the empowerment of expressive transformation.”

I have a thing about the flowering trees and shrubs here in Portland in the spring. I cannot seem to get enough of them. Every one that I see seems to be better than the last or more abundant with blooms or graceful or magical. I am simply looking for an excuse to photograph another one some place in some nondescript location. This morning as I was passing this one in the rain, I started thinking about the very wet spring we have had here. And then, as thinking always leads to another stream of subjects, the tornadoes in the Midwest came to mind. We could conclude that it is aberration, but I think not. It is just the weather taking a turn to convince us that nothing in life is predictable, ever.

Just like the sunrise that I caught as I left Mendocino yesterday morning. It is always different in some way, like a snowflake. The color, the shapes of the cloud formation, the silhouettes, there is something that presents itself as every-changing and evolving.

And why do I find wild lupines growing on a sandy beach on my drive home when I merely stopped to photograph the waves and the rocks in the distance?

And more than anything else, how did I leave this photo in my cell phone for so long and not appreciate its magnificent message…that there is a power in nature that we simply do not understand and probably will never comprehend.

My husband and I left yesterday afternoon on a road trip across the country…..destination? Washington DC. As I was driving my husband took a photo of this happy camper as we were passing.

Shortly after we left Boise, Idaho where we had spent the night, we pulled off the road so I could take a few photos of the beautiful mountains that always seem to draw me in and give me a reason to pause.

No matter how pressed we are for time, I have to stop and take a photo, as if the next time I return, the mountains will be gone. I think it has more to do with my realization that perhaps I will not pass this way again.

I take photos of the mountains. He takes photos of me. It is a pretty simple formula, and one we are both used to expecting from one another.

I took this photo at a rest stop not far from Laramie, Wyoming. We even found a vegan/vegetarian restaurant here and are spending the night with hopes that we can make it to Des Moines, Iowa by tomorrow, the next stop. The hardest part of the trip is going through cattle country, feed lots, and riding past cattle transport trucks. My heart aches. It must be the season for calves because everywhere I look, babies are frolicking in the fields or cuddled next to their mom’s. If only the world could feel what I feel, but that is another time and place.

When I return to Portland, I will have some news to share. Our lives are going through some transitions, all good, but also life-changing. More later.

Yesterday we left Portland and drove to Mendocino, arriving 13 hours later. We had not been down here since Thanksgiving due to some surgery my husband had as well as other demands. I had been knitting as my husband drove and then decided to listen to an audio book on my ipod. Now I was looking up instead of down to follow a stitch, and suddenly this sight came into view. I grabbed my phone to take a photo. On the left is a shower, but in the slice of light is the last part of the day revealed beneath the cloud cover. It was arresting..beautiful. Surely, there is a quote or a poem to accompany this scenery.

“Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you”. Rumi

This is one of the B and B’s in Mendocino at twilight, my favorite time of day here. We spent all day in the garden, weeding, cutting back overgrowth and cutting out plants that no longer fit our small garden. We did not finish everything, but there is much that we accomplished. Perhaps someday my garden can resemble the beauty and perfection of this one, but for now I am happy to be able to work in it whatever it may be. Tomorrow we head back to Portland to be there for another event.

My hands are creased and embedded with dirt, and my nails stained even though I have scrubbed them. My gardening gloves were so wet from the plants that I had to go bare-handed halfway through the work. I love being in the garden, but I also love sitting at my computer under this upstairs window knowing the ocean is within easy reach and the day has ended in work well-done. Peaceful reflection can be relished as the sun sets.

I finally decided to name this piece “Weathering Hearts”. I have been watching and listening to Jude with her mini-series “Whispering Hearts”. Recently, I listened to two audio books on my walks, Wuthering Heights by Jane Austen and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. So in keeping with a literary theme, and for one I feel deeply connected, I thought my hearts and this piece might make a good combination coupled with this appropriate title.

Ebby has also been growing fur, very, very slowly. I am finding this process a bit difficult in terms of the sewing and the angle, but I like the look. I won’t cover the entire body with this as I intend to use other pieces that I dyed, but I think the effect is good.

As I was downloading my photos, I realized I had taken a photo of Mt Shasta in Northern California on our trip back to Oregon last week. I never get used to seeing this spectacular mountain. It is always so breathtaking and spectacular. I think that I will climb it….someday. If my knees hold up, it might just be possible.

I have been gone for a week visiting grandchildren and, now, missing them so much. I have other loves waiting for me, though, and that is the plus side of walking into the house.

Cats do not greet you like dogs, but the subtlety is something to treasure especially when you crawl into bed at night and they snuggle up beside you for the entire night unwilling to move or change positions. And in the morning the routine of the food and the treats and the same expected rubs makes you feel as if you had never been away. I find this so comforting and stabilizing.

I have been working on this piece while the baby naps and finding the stitching and its endless path like a good book that I hope will never end. And then in the car, there has been the stitching of Ebenezer who seems to be coming along quite nicely. I will post a few photos of Ebby soon.

Gray cats have various tones of color, so in this tub I dumped many whites and cream and ecru tones to see if I could get some nice variations. I also did two other tubs of color and ended with a nice assortment.

Ebenezer has stolen my heart. I have spent the last two and a half days on his tail alone because tails are so important to cats, especially Ebby. There will be a lot more manipulation of fabric in this cat so it has more of a sculptural quality in its fur. I am doing a lot of tearing and gathering and forming. There is no end to the results that one can create with lots of playing and hand stitching. I think Ebby will find a nice new make believe home here with lots of love and devotion.

I will post a few pieces here and there as I work in the days ahead. I have a trip to see my grandchildren next week, but I am hoping to take Ebenezer with me. His tail will be finished today.

This winter has been one of record snow for many, but for Portland, Oregon, snow has been minimal, scattered or dusted. The day we finally had huge snowflakes was also the day we headed to Arizona for two nights. So this morning, at my urgency, we drove up to Mt Hood to meet the snow.

We stepped into our snowshoes, met the sunshine, and hiked towards the mountain joining many others with the same idea and impulse.

It was a bluebird kind of day, and as we hiked, I started shedding my scarf, mittens, and extra layers.

I must meet the snow on a regular basis if it does not come to visit me.

Just as we were leaving, the clouds came in to completely obscure the mountain. I could see the sunset would be one with the cast of pink and lavender on the horizon that would reflect a golden and pastel glow on the snow and give it the winter light that is so much a part of my memory and longing.

Of course there is always the funny little snowman that a child leaves behind for others to enjoy as they head back to the parking lot, the last tender moment to a lovely afternoon.

For some reason, I have never been a huge fan of the desert. Maybe it is the heat and the lack of shade or lush foliage that leaves me feeling parched, both physically and spiritually. However, having spent two nights there on Thursday and Friday, I have come away with new awareness and appreciation. My father always loved the desert, particularly in the spring when it was in bloom. He made annual treks to see the colors and the flowers and listen to the voices there that called him, the ones only he heard, the ones that carried him into the deeper recesses of his complex mind. He always came away refreshed and renewed. Now I think I was introduced to his appreciation the last few days.

The sky has a deep and penetrating blue as it becomes the backdrop for the sharp contrast of the red and stark sandstone. When I think of the desert, too, I am reminded of Georgia O’Keeffe and her love of the stark desert beauty around Taos, New Mexico where she lived and painted. And for me, part of the awareness and appreciation of the colors and textures are the same elements that I employ when I am thinking of creating a cloth design or imagining space and how something needs to be left open to chance and surprise, like the face of these desert mountains.

One morning we decided to climb Camelback Mountain in Echo Canyon in Phoenix. Phoenix is supposed to have the best urban hiking in the country, a fact that surprised me because I always boasted that we had this claim in Portland, Oregon. We had no idea what we were getting into with this hike. The stairs at the trailhead seemed harmless, so we ventured up, eager and ready for some good morning exercise. The elevation is 2,704 feet above sea level and the elevation gain is about 1,200 feet. It is all layered sandstone with plenty of rocks and boulders to climb over and around.

Some of the trail is so steep that there is a cyclone fence lining the edge as well as a metal handrail that you use to pull yourself up and higher to the next level. We went up the Summit Trail at the beginning of the Echo Canyon Park.

When we climbed up past this area, I turned around to see where we had been and took this photo. At this point, my husband was taking every step with great precaution because of his inability to use his left arm and shoulder from his surgery. At this point, he was regretting the climb, not wanting to re-injure his shoulder and begin the process of healing all over again.

I was loving the climbing and pulling up and over the rocks, the strenuous task of the journey. About halfway up the climb, we stopped to talk to a man about our age and he told us about this 80+ year old man at the summit named “Sonny” who climbed Camelback three times a day, 6 days a week for a total of 80,000 times to his calculation. Within 15 minutes we ran into him as he was on his way down. I asked, “Are you Sonny?” He was wiry, tan, and about 5’6” tall. When he confirmed his identity, I told him that we had heard about him. He merely smiled and clambered down over more rocks on the steep trail down. I love running into people like this. How inspiring!

Most of the hikers on the trail were fairly young, the majority in their twenties. I hope they all use Sonny as a role model as they age into their senior years.

We took the Cholla Trail down on the other side making the round trip around 3 miles. Now I am ready to go back to more of this desert urban hiking.

There was a shop in town that sold red dirt shirts. It looked just like the colors of the sandstone and this red dirt was used to dye this clothing. I loved the deep, rich color and immediately thought of the blue sky and then the turquoise jewelry that mimics this blue so beautifully.