Friday, July 27, 2018

more garden sculpture, an apology to artists


From the Matzke Fine Art Gallery and Sculpture Park, left over photos from our day on Camano Island.
I am sorry that I did not jot down the names of the artists, some credit is due here. 
 I was so enthralled , I simply forgot, inexcusable. 

But , here you go,  it is a destination you ought to put on your list!




The cool, fresh smelling forest houses these sculptures so nicely, Such a great marriage!


This is my last day of home alone, It has been a terrific week!
Crow family morning and evening and sometimes during the heat of the day to drink and splash a bit in the filtered cool water.
Finally dragged out the hose and squirted the yard of mostly weeds and moss, crispy brown, how I like chicken, but not the yard around us. I probably saved a few earth worms and prevented a grass fire.
It is warm.

Thursday, July 26, 2018

judgmental Santa, Risk, and Phlebotomist's delight




Stabbing Santas- Christmas in July...antique die cut German Santa heads floating around in my "thing" drawer, downloaded a template for articulated paper doll, cut our the pieces from heavy card stock, used tiny brads to hitch the body together, Felted their suits. It took way too long to make these Santas. WAY TOO LONG!

They are kind of creepy- look like they have been watching you to see if you are naughty or nice.
Naughty is my guess, their expressions can go either way...




Ding dong ,  hands gluey , covered in bits of wool- miffed about the  interruption,
 Difficult to pull away from Santa stabbing to answer the door - which is usually a kid with a petition - a school fundraiser,  a person running for  office or  a WITNESS sharing the word of the damned lord-
grumble grumble- 
OH but LOOK, a very nice surprise sent from Portland, son!
Sorry for the grumble now-
just when being MOM has taken a back seat, so far back you are no longer in the car, just another some one at the side of the road (boo-hoo)- THIS shows up - the DNR order tossed to the wind. 
Heart back in order , thumping  right  out of  the rib jail that houses it. You know the feeling!




He had performed a story for RISK podcast about his colonoscopy, but  did not make the cut for the book. Anyway, nicest surprise of the day. My son, my heart.


Only two more days of solitude.
 Before Mr. Man left, he was watching the usual bad news on MSNBC, I noticed his arms, a phlebotomist's dream. Like trees pumping life ,
 branches  rising  from strong arms , a quarter of an inch , blue and plump 



And so, back to the nonsense of stabbing  judgmental  Santas and anything else that come to mind. Making the most of the two days left-  pumpkin bread and ginger stem biscuits for breakfast, wearing a night shirt all day, not cleaning up my gluey woolly mess, hanging out with the crows on the deck. The babies have finally learned to feed themselves awkwardly. 
They still fall all over themselves, looking  at me like it is my fault.

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Sculpture garden, gallery, Camano island and Stella























Ten acres of what was wooded land accessed only by logging road. has been cultivated and sensitively sorted into an artist's dream, sculpture garden , gallery, venue for art events and openings, created by one  remarkable woman, Karla Matzke.
Stella, of the BEST ideas, found it.
Driving down to the Park/gallery was beautiful as well.
Well forested and well established little island has become a bedroom community for Seattle commuters who must have loads of cash, though the charm , the old homes , large yards ,  beaches have not been compromised ,in spite of the recent population of  big city workers.



The sculpture park supports old growth - loads of  sweet smelling cedar,  delicious forest incorporating  glass art, carved stone, metal,  organic art 


  









Most astonishing sculptures superabound,  large and heavy tucked in the forest here and there, It is enthralling- magic, and you are free to wander.

The gallery , where Karla lives , is equally  astonishing. exquisitely curated - FINE art, incredible art, and glass that  makes one stop in wonderment for a good long time. 
You must go and see- I do not have enough adjectives, won't even try, you just have to experience it all  for yourself.




As we were leaving I took a photo of the parking sign- it actually says "nose-in parking" - the poppy pod helps make it more interesting. I would park my nose here anytime!






Monday, July 23, 2018

Out with Stella


I drove down to the lake to Stella's little gem of a house on Sunday, from there Stella drove us to Camano Island, where we spotted a side of the road antique shop, great stuff if you like that sort of thing , good prices, which everyone likes...



Enormous  metal chickens ,made in Mexico,  were many but this one was impossibly large, so , of course it would be photo worthy, I could barely fit it into my camera- how would  that  fit into a car? 
Stella bought a large metal crab and a rusted metal mermaid , living on a lake - they will be comfortable.
Again, I must stress- GOOD prices, Stella made out like a bandit.
I did my usual catch and release- had an armful - left it all behind for someone else because I am thoughtful that way....




metal goats also from Mexico, especially cute, probably because they do resemble dogs. I would have had one of these and put it in the front yard, but, realizing , not a good idea- it would get stolen by the hooligans  who wander the neighborhood at night. ( actually, that is not true, Mr. Man would have not appreciated it and it would end up in the garage) 


It is so great for me to have Stella back,  I am selfish! Her  two month stay in Finland was likely the best trip she has ever taken, her DNA feeling comfortable and welcomed among her people.
She missed the Helsinki summit disaster  by moments- the energy, she said, was electric- polite protests but protests none the less.
Her checked bag was "damaged " at Heathrow- damaged and late. When she picked it up from the airport here, it was utterly destroyed, in pieces, smashed,  everything ruined , handed to her in a large plastic bag.
We can not imagine what happened the destruction was so complete.
Anyway, the airline will likely reimburse but there were things that are irreplaceable and precious-  presents from Finland, guess she will have to go back to restock. Pretty sure that she would be pleased to do so.



Sunday, July 22, 2018

where were you in "62


This is my home town, and that little white house ,with the red roof across  from and to the left of the large grey apartment building,  is where I grew up.
The house next door with the brownish roof is where I babysat for fifty cents an hour. I spent all day with baby Kim, washed  her family's clothes , hung them on the line, made food for baby, changed baby, played with baby , bathed baby , and did a little house work like a legit Mama. 
Baby Kim became so fond of me that she would cry and would not stop when I left , that hurt her mother's feelings - Kim loved me best. I got fired.

But not before I discovered a book on their shelf and began reading Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita.
I thought it would be juicy and forbidden and all about how sex worked, I was ready to learn all about it...but something quite astonishing happened instead. I discovered beautiful heart breaking literature, prose /poetry - like nothing we  ever read in school- my brain went wild, high on delicious language .
It was not until later, in college,  that I researched Nabokov's life, then  the butterflies began to circle, synesthesia, a name  for my  personal "sensory appetite"- synesthesia. it had a name! 
Nabokov and his wife, too, had synesthesia, a gift especially for a writer,  I do believe it is probably more common than recognized.
For instance, if I say PURSE, what number and color come to mind? What musical note do your hear?
See, Not so unusual.



After I got the boot from babysitting I cleaned rooms at the CLIFF - they had actually blasted  a large portion of the hill to make this cliff and put a motel there. A pricey endeavor. One would think after all the fuss to build it that the rooms might be exceptional. Nope. they were shit. BUT I did get a dollar and hour, and could wear Levis and boots to work.


And this lobby of the bank building smelled like stale people , money and pockets- and creaked like the number seven.
I would walk here from school, climb the stairs to the dentist office, a small room with heavy torture equipment, a nurse/receptionist/ held my  arms down against the wooden chair - the dentist did not waste time with Novocaine.
His name was , no kidding, Dr. Pepper, an army dentist and  a dentist for the  men in the State prison just up the road and over a bit- where a few trees grew in spite of the horror that went on behind bars.
Needless to say , Dr. Pepper was not gentle nor did he molly coddle. it was "how old are you now- open wide, nurse -hold her down"
So that is where I was in '62, not sure why these rememberings came to mind, but there they are. 
Where were you in '62? Probably not even born yet! I am the oldest person in blogland- I was sixteen in '62!


a new critter, a new name, other stuff

My friend named her bird "Smudge", he has not been responding  , it sounds too harsh and lands like a thud on his ethereal fe...