Monthly Archives: October 2008
It is with sadness that I say goodbye to October. I am feeling melancholy even with these two powerful felines to brighten my day. I have had mood swings. I did not follow through with a deadline for my writing which will leave me out of the next issue of Health and Happiness. Yet, I had many photos juried into the Marquette Arts and Cultural gift store. I did not get my Halloween decorations up, nor did I get my grandson a card. But I did give him a tiny pumpkin weeks ago.
Why did today become, one of those days? The beauty of my walk on Presque Isle, the good news of acceptance, the evening spent watching my grandson play–these are GOOD things. Instead I am thinking of where I have dropped the ball. What I have not done or accomplished. How I want to be a larger part of my daughter and grandson’s life. How I want to take my writing more seriously.
I will not go gently into the goodnight of winter. I need to connect more with family. I need to organize my family and artistic work against the demands of my job(s). May my blessings be counted while I reach to better my heart.
Last week, I took over a dozen photos (framed and matted) to the Marquette Arts and Culture Gift Store to be juried in. Today, I stopped by to see how many they accepted. My work is on the wall! I am so excited. If you know of a pc. that you like and it is not on the wall they have more of my work in storage.
I had been hesitant to put work out into my own local community. Shy. Insecure. But I am so full of joy to see my work on the wall. The gift store is within the basement of the Peter White Library. While you are there check out the gallery, workshop spaces and stop by Tu Kaluthia for a taste of fantastic baklava, or perhaps a cup of soup.
Marquette Arts and Culture Center Gallery Gifts
217 North Front Street
Marquette, MI. 49855
“Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls”
~ Joesph Campbell
This was a random drive-by shooting. The Great Pumpkin has been carved; may he rest in peace. I wonder how many pumkin seeds came from this beast of a gourd and how big were they? I imagine the seeds sitting large and heavy with slime in my palm.
When Mike and I bought a camp in National Mine it was like many old camps in the Upper Peninsula, past owners had discarded metal, trash and junk in hidden parts of their land rather than take it too a dump. One of the discarded items is a whole red truck bed that had been converted into a trailer. In this trailer is a white chest freezer. What’s Inside? I’m not looking. Mike can.
The sun was not quite up when I took this shot of Buddha in the garden. He has snow on his bald head and on his belly, but he seems to be maintaining his positive outlook on life. I promised that on my first day off, Saturday, I would rescue him from the coming winter and place him in the studio where he can help me create.
I am not prepared for snow. Our snow shovels are broken. We did not dig up the Dahlia tubers in time. I still have tomatoes on the vine but they have been hard-frosted and only the strong still cling to the vine. It is typical to have snow before Halloween here in the the Upper Peninsula. I did not have my batteries charged for this first snow event either and the snow is now coming down more steadily. I won’t be home until after dark tonight.
PhotoFriday Submission Theme: I Love— I chose this photo because Buddha has given me hope as my life has gone through changes and I found my feet beneath me. I purchased this garden Buddha along a highway when I first started to travel without my husband. Traveling, especially to my father’s home, was not something I felt free too do. Jealousies of old boyfriends left my husband insecure and me controlled. But I bought this Buddha, I decided. I traveled. I still roam and trust my world. I love my life.
Powerful wind accompanied darkness, wind chimes chaotic, tiny hail, miniature pearls on a royal blue vinyl table cloth. Leaves rush up the hill and over the ridge where the deer walk at night. I narrate this scene to you.
I’m in National Mine, a place where houses shake, dishes in the cupboard vibrate the same time each day as the mine dynamites.
As quick as the wind arrived it is gone. No birds at the feeder, I say. Most of the leaves are off the trees.
Tonight I will watch for black bear and the orphaned baby moose.
Perhaps we are too young to start thinking of the days when we sit and rock side-by-side. Is mid-40 too young for thoughts of when we get older. Mike and I dreamt of a swing hanging from an arbor where we could sit, rock, and look over the gardens and perhaps our grandchildren. Where we could watch humming birds, and doves bathing in the waterfall that trickles into the pond.
I am always trying to get him to sit closer. I love him more everyday and I cannot get enough of his warmth. Often I feel like a too distant pumpkin in the patch trying to figure out how to roll my way over to where he stands.
The grapevines are growing on the arbor now. The grass garden was wild, but a bit too dry this summer and blackberries are starting to take in the garden soil. This fall there are purple asters and bronze mums, lemon thyme going dormant, and tomatoes rotting on the soil.
I think one of the reasons I can never get close to my man on the swing is he is almost always in motion. Tinkering. Puttering. Wait. Those descriptors are too old. I mean after all we are mid-40s not in our 60s. So, I suppose he is constructing, building, creating. I’ll let him putter in 20 years (wink). For now I will watch his fine body profile in the days fading light, the magic light, before the sunsets, and hope he will come sit close and hold my hand.
Last night I was not feeling too positive. In fact, I had one of those emotional meltdowns where you cry over everything and nothing. It is never a proud moment when we are overcome. Awkwardness follows. You try to remind yourself that last night was an unbalance and when balanced you know how to soar. But have you ever noticed the ashes left scattered in the wake of your emotions. How do I clean them up? I really need to clean them up.