On Using Worn Out Stuff
I have been using old dishcloths in my work for years. These are from my own kitchen, stained and worn from cooking, from years of meals made with my husband.
Continue readingI have been using old dishcloths in my work for years. These are from my own kitchen, stained and worn from cooking, from years of meals made with my husband.
Continue readingOnly for an instant I felt the towering presence of MARY OLIVER IN ALL CAPS. Thinking about the life she led. Being in nature. Being herself. Observing.
Continue readingRed is my most favorite color. Heat. Blood. Anger. Lust. Love. So many things can be conveyed with one color.
Continue readingToday is Friday and this has been a most incredible week. Snow storm and equinox and aurora and tear ruffle on eye collar and watching Kat make garments and paintings and Kris make quilts and paintings. The Triangle.
Continue readingThere is an art to roasting marshmallows and everyone has their own preference as to doneness. I like dark, toasty brown. Roasted over hot coals after the flame is gone but the heat remains intense.
Continue readingGiving Blueberry a bath in the laundry tub. He looks like a little rat. A dejected rat. He doesn't like a bath but he's so soft and fluffy afterward.
Continue readingI made a little book out of a pad of watercolor paper. Bound with cotton thread that was laying around. The covers are from a mailing envelope.
Continue readingThe dirt starts to quiver. Individual grains start popping, not unlike popcorn, and the popping grains start to take shape. The rise up in a mass and form a set of lips with a stem that reaches to the ground like a disembodied mouth.
Continue readingI love coffee. I drink it every day. Just a bit of sugar, maybe. Always lots of half & half.
Continue readingHow do we frame it? How do we give context? I have a habit of thinking directions in my head when I am a passenger and the driver doesn't know where we are going.
Continue readingKendra asked me to make Swedish rye bread and of course, I said yes. But then later I realized that I am making the bread and the meatballs and the gravy and the ostakaka and I can't even call my aunt to get tips on how to fix problems with the ostakaka.
Continue readingTotal blank. There are dishes that need to be washed but no one is coming over so why should we bother? The dishwasher fills up so fast these days. These covid days.
Continue readingWell, I think and I think. I'm stuck? I haven't made anything for a long time. And then I feel guilty. Guilty about not going to the studio, guilty about not drawing in my sketch book or making something at home.
Continue readingI think about squishing a brush into paint. In my joyful fantasy, the paint is oil. Golden yellow red and orange with that linseed oil smell. I love that smell. It makes me so damn happy.
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