4.17.2018

Working in the Studio

No one is an island

Here is a shout out to my husband. He doesn't see me very often during a regular work week. I go to my day job as an art director, come home, and eat dinner. From there it can go one of two ways:  I go down to the studio working until late at night, then end up going to bed after he is already asleep OR I'm so exhausted from work, then I just go to bed and hope for a better day in the morrow.

Without him, the every day tasks of life would overtake me.

4.04.2018

I Have Two Lives

Doe running in a field in Bailey's Harbor on the corner of County E and Red Cherry Roads.
It had stopped to stare at me in my car, then ran toward the buck in the trees.

From each life I am running. One I am running to while the other I am running from. It seems as if both feet can't be solidly touching the ground at the same time. That voice I had in my head is returning, "You don't have much time.  Do now if you want to do it at all." No more waiting.

3.20.2018


Balancing Act at Toft's Point (con't)


Icicles form from the spray and waves in Moonlight Bay at Toft's point.

Having finally made my way past the cabins and stone kiln, I came to the icicle-lined rocky shore of Moonlight Bay in Lake Michigan. It was too chilly to sit on the rocks or lay down, so I stood despite my legs being a little tired from the long walk. The exertion was welcome. It allowed me to get rid of stresses that I had been holding in without even realizing. Do you know how it feels to not be aware of a long-held tension until that tightness has been released? I relaxed into my environment.

Shards of ice made rhythmic, high pitched sounds as the struck one another.
The sun was low in the sky, creating long shadows and its warmth was dimming. I closed my eyes and tried to soak in my surroundings. There was the high-pitched tinkle of ice shards floating in the water as they were rhythmically struck together by action from the waves. They sounded like a glass mobile in the wind. A sandhill crane croaked as it flew past. Its voice becoming muted as the cedars swallowed its echo until it was a faint whisper in the distance. 

A Bald Eagle flew to and from a tree branch as it fished.
When I opened my eyes the cold breeze blew past my glasses making my eyes water. Despite this, I saw movement in the skies to the right. A bald eagle was flying to and from a tree off the point. It would circle the tree, land, and fly once again. I imagined there was a nest at the top of the tree, but I couldn't spot it within the dense forest. I breathed in the cold, clean air and waited until the experience was complete. There was no rush. It was just me and nature. Balanced.

Now for the long walk back. 





3.19.2018

March Solitude Hike 

Icicles formed from the waters of Lake Michigan appear on the sandstone at Toft's Point in Bailey's Harbor, Door County, Wisconsin, USA.

St. Patrick's Day weekend, I drove up to Egg Harbor in Door County Wisconsin to drop off woodblock prints. The art pieces were coordinating, but not matching, mounted on wood board, and gilded in copper and/or painted with ivory chalk paint. The pieces were based off of my first visit to Rock Island, that is a story for another time. 

After my visit at the gallery, I was lucky enough to be able to stay with my mother for a couple days at her home on Kangaroo Lake. She moved in last June. It is the home her parents had built for their retirement. Several owners later, it came up for sale and, at 70 years of age, she purchased it and moved up north. It has been an adventure for her and a blessing for her family.

The ice had started to melt in the lake. The "big pond"—Lake Michigan—churned with panes of ice, chilled the clear waters, and created small ice shoves on the Green Bay side. Snow still blanketed the roadside and huge hills of snow sat at the end of each driveway. Despite this, the weather was warm for that time of year! The mid-to upper 40's!

Much of the time was spent driving around the peninsula taking in as many new sights as possible; however, Saturday evening I stole away a few hours for myself to walk Toft's Point near the Ridges Sanctuary in Bailey's Harbor. No one else was there.

It was good for my soul. The only sounds were of wind rushing gently through the cedars and the muffled crunch of the snow below my feet. Here and there I would hear a sandhill crane in the distance. I really needed this time of solitude: I could feel my bones relax. My mind could rest. It has been a long, long time since I last felt that way. 

That is when magic happens... more soon.