My Cool Parents

I couldn't say this as a teenager, but I can now, my parents are pretty cool. Not giving away too much info, they're in their mid to late 70's and have a wonderful adventurous spirit. A good example of this is their latest investment in one of these cute little tear drop campers.  Always camping enthusiasts, they bought a "little guy" built by the Amish.  It may be hard for them to top the back to nature trips they took my 3 sisters and I on in the woods of Maine in the late 60's with that green leaky canvas tent. The uncool, teen angst filled trips make us middle aged sisters smile now. Here are some other examples of the tear drop found on VW Camper Van blog. 

Poem for Monday

I spent my Easter alone. A day without planned menus, no cooking, cleaning, family visits, and no devices. I spent a good part of it in the backyard with my chickens listening to their distant cousins in the trees. It was a present easier for Paul and our families to give me than one for me to accept for myself. Why do I struggle so much with the idea that being a alone is selfish?  I'm always looking for advice to live life as an artist. Here is a beauty that worked wonders for me this weekend.


How to be a Poet
(to remind myself)
-Wendell Berry
1.
Make a place to sit down.
Sit down. Be quiet.
You must depend upon
affection, reading, knowledge,
skill—more of each
than you have—inspiration,
work, growing older, patience,
for patience joins time
to eternity. Any readers
who like your poems,
doubt their judgment.
2.
Breathe with unconditional breath
the unconditioned air.
Shun electric wire.
Communicate slowly. Live
a three-dimensioned life;
stay away from screens.
Stay away from anything
that obscures the place it is in.
There are no unsacred places;
there are only sacred places
and desecrated places.
3.
Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

What I look forward to every year. Photos by Paul Clancy

A new app+my face=silly

Beautiful Decay

My sweetheart, Paul Clancy, has new work at the Candita Clayton Studio in RI. The show, Four Thought, is comprised of work by Allison Paschke, Agata Michalowska, and Graham Heffernan. Paul's photos often find the beauty in the natural decay of architecture. Sometimes I can see loss in the beauty and sometimes hope. This particular collection of work has special meaning because his subject was the antique yacht club in Edgewood, RI and the caretakers cottage next door. The cottage was the last house he shared with his children and wife at the time. In February of this year the yacht club was struck by lightening and burned to it's pilings. Paul and I visited soon after and went into the cottage that the yacht club was renovating. It was my first time in this home that meant so much to him and his first time in 8 years. It was humming with volunteer workers and had already been stripped to it's antique lathing. The huge loss of the yacht club caused the group to focus it's efforts on what they could repair, the cottage. The photos are on raised boxes and the sculptures are made from dumpster retrieved lathing. This work, Shaw Avenue Cairns, is Paul's response to the past and present of those structures. I do have a major crush on this man and his art. Here's a link to Greg Cook's article in the Phoenix. He likes Paul's work too. 

Spring please?

Maybe by clicking these beautiful spring heels three times and saying "there's no time like spring" we'll finally see a green leaf or two. Pussy willow slippers by Ani Rapinoja can found here. Make sure you see all her other lovelies made from nature.

The Church Collections

Yes, it's time. I want less stuff and more room for my art. So I'm sending some of my collections back out in the world for someone else to own and care for. ebay seems so impersonal. I want to know they are going to good homes. I'll post one a week for sale on my blog and FB. So keep your eyes open for... the purse collection, the white vase collection, the little chair collection, the ruby glass collection, one or two or three of the plate collections, yes and some of the hat collection.

Almost Time for Braids

I've been longing for a lot of warm weather niceties lately. Eating most meals in the backyard, pedicures you can show off and braids. I'm a sucker for braids dangling below ears, twirled on top of the head... one long one down the back. I don't know, can I still pull of braids? I found these wonderful hairdo drawings by artist Lauren Levy. I'd love to see these blown up to a few feet across for a salon. To look at more of Lauren's work you can go to her flickr site here.
First photo is one of Paul's. I've never had the back of my head loved so much. The following are of Lauren's art.

Poem for Monday

No. 24

-Alyn Carlson

Collage using silkscreened paper, thread and ephemera.

No. 24

-Barbara Schweitzer

Long she had held the image in her head,

able to live shuttered and craven years

because she kept it fueled and safe unsaid,

held near, as far away as unshed tears.

Names written in unfamiliar hands, she

parsed and stored inside as if stolen gems

she might finger in the quiet of sleep,

the one room of dreams she kept clear for him.

While freed prisoners might tell of fierce relief

when cells open and air floats unbound,

for her a straight back chair, an assortment of fruit

became invitation enough for brazen hope

to reposition the earth and uproot

her,  graciously as socks turned inside out,

giving her back to what she was all about.

No. 24

-Pat Hegnauer

Little time to sit in a kitchen

full of canning, baking, and stewing,

teething baby bawling in her cot.

A cook’s heart must cultivate itself

when gardens want water and weeding.

Victuals are a woman’s overlord

demanding measured concentrations.

The table’s a meadow to be plowed,

planted and gathered three times daily

while tuckered men chew, drink, and smoke.

Art and poetry are from the Ekphrasis show now up at the Hera Gallery.

This show is a joint effort between the Hera and The Origami Poetry Project.

The OPP places free tiny books of poetry throughout RI. It's a wonderful

show where words and pictures come together.

Summer Shoot

Warm weather is really coming. I just finished art directing a summer supplement for Swarovski's Touchstone Crystal devision. My pals at Hornick Rivlin were my shooting team and the very talented Joji Goto styled us up big time. The focus for this new collection is bright pink, purple and green enameled flowers with Swarovski Crystals set in them. We went with soft neutrals and bright whites for wardrobe and used some of my watercolor out takes for backgrounds. The bold brights with the delicate watercolor palette was a beautiful combination. It should be going to the printer next week. It took a great team to pull off an incredible amount of work in just a few days. Thank you so much to Sandy, Rick, Joji, Steve, Cathy, Laura and Kacie. 
Hornick Rivlin Photography
Hair and make by Kacie Corbelle from Ennis
Styling Joji Goto
Touchstone Crystal Jewelry
Our lovely model Laura from Maggie in Boston

Goodbye Kit

Nice to be back to say hello. I lost a dear cousin a week ago to cancer. Katherine Vinal, or Kit, was my oldest cousin and my Aunt Willa and Uncle Lester's first of eight children. She was magnificent both inside and out. Kit was fearless, compassionate, funny, street smart (she proved it possible for someone from Maine), defender of the underdog, could calm a nervous horse, explain how an owl's digestion track worked, our clan leader, and seemed more goddess than human to us younger cousins trailing behind her. For the last 30 years she lived with her husband Dale, in Fort Fairfield Maine on their sheep farm. She managed a veterinary practice for a doctor where they tended mostly farm animals and many lost and wounded wild animal. Any homeless creature within 60 miles of Kit would somehow find their way to her. Two weeks before she died, barely able to walk she was baking bread. I will miss her wicked sense of humor, compassionate strength and being able to start a conversation right where we left off, years before. When I got the news, I went and told my chickens. This Mary Oliver poem has always seemed to me, to be written for Kit. The image is one of my pastel paintings to see more you can go here.

Making the House Ready for the Lord

-Mary Oliver
Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but
   Still nothing is as shining as it should be
for you.  Under the sink, for example, is an
  uproar of mice—it is the season of their
many children.  What shall I do?  And under the eaves
   and through the walls the squirrels
have gnawed their ragged entrances—but it is the season
   when they need shelter, so what shall I do?  And
the raccoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard
   while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow;
what shall I do?  Beautiful is the new snow falling
   in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly
up the path, to the door.  And still I believe you will
   come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox
the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know
   that really I am speaking to you whenever I say,
as I do all morning and afternoon:  Come in, Come in.