I have tried to be discreet, really I have, but is there any way to put a tree in a room without drawing a little attention? I don’t think so. And yet my shop has gone through so many transformations, a deeper reflection of myself.

Awhile ago, (well maybe two years ago) I purchased this beat-up doll house at an estate sale. I bought it on a whim. It was the dollhouse I never had growing up. I always wanted one like this, and mine was always the metal kind without a lot of charm. When I was little, I did everything I could to make improvements with more plastic furniture and people with moving parts, but it never really satisfied me. So when I saw this, it was an instant and heartfelt moment.

I painted everything inside and out with the Annie Sloan Chalk Paint. I could not believe how it improved the appearance. I put a decorated Christmas tree inside and even some tiny string lights on the outside that can be turned on by a battery. I just want to move into it and set up some cozy rooms. Currently, it is empty, but full of anticipation!

And doesn’t everyone need some tiny red shoes under a tree to complete the mood? I just want a little magic in my life. I think everyone does. More to come.

This is my favorite time of year. I also begin to reflect and feel a need for anchoring my life to some sort of weight. I miss this ritual of thinking and writing in this space. My life these days is bonded to another commitment, a creative and challenging one, but full of inspiration and fun. It consumes any time I have for blogging beyond this focus.

When we light candles in our homes, there is an immediate sense of comfort, of slowing down, and allowing our thoughts to meander and bounce around. Then as if in a kind of meditative state, the candles and the peace of the moment bring us to that stillness and quiet again.

I miss all of you, and think of you and wonder how you are all doing. Sometime, I will get back here and post again on a more regular basis. I understand this place so much better than anywhere else.

“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the result of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

“Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.”

STEVE JOBS

(As a note, my three children gave me this to me when my mother became terminal and was at our home under hospice care. I have had it hanging in my studio since that day.)

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.

For the last several weeks now, I have been diligently working on a project that is so close to my heart. I am thinking a series of these projects, for starters, will be a good thing. I have spent so much time on this, hour after hour but loving every bit and piece and stitch.

Of course my work table is covered end-to-end and side-to-side with lots of things, but tidy is not on my list of priorities for the moment.

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.