I love film. The limits. The waiting. The not knowing. The colors and contrasts. The grain. The “accidents.” The rush.
2020 was a rough year to make new human friends, but here are some lovely (albeit feisty) non-humans that I met right on my deck!
Note: Hummingbirds are suckers for sweets and easy to draw in if you’re looking for some quality entertainment (especially if you like a good fight), but feeders can be messy. I highly recommend this one. Be sure to keep the nectar fresh (it’s super easy to make).
Take a relaxing breath and listen to this story about how art was made on a recent Monday morning.
A while ago, I pulled some photographs and paintings out of my uncle’s (davidkingartist.com) trash. I heard one singing to me from a bin in my studio the other day. Then, my pile of stained tea wrappers joined in the chorus. And finally, I turned to my sewing machine to provide a beat.
My Aunt Patti’s Pojagi work providing heavy influence, I stitched the wrappers to the painting following ghostlike lines from the painting beneath, along wrinkles and edges. Whatever felt right.
Once it felt finished, I flipped it over and after a moment spent with hands on hips, I grabbed my watercolors and filled in the stitched patterns. It was hard not to peek, but my hope that paint was bleeding through the holes left by the sewing needle came true. Beautiful blots of color had joined variations of brown and a reversible painting was born.
The End.
There are a lot of spills in our house. So many that I started a series on my instagram feed called #spilloftheday. The images rarely receive many “likes, ” but when people see me in real life, this is the series they talk about. The series they say makes their day.
I wish I could blame the kids for the spill, but a lot come from me. As a often overly self-critical person, I have had to work very hard not to be frustrated with myself over things like spills. Mindfulness and children have taught me to laugh and admire the beauty in a spill instead.
Last night, we looked out the window to admire the sunset and saw this massive spill unfolding.
One could be mad about such a thing (seriously, how did they get all that water out there without anyone noticing!! And the chalk? Not ours. Magically appeared!)
OR
one could notice the colors, contrast, wet vs dry, the kid’s inhibitions in creating/experimenting, the strange conversations and other sounds.
One can laugh. A LOT.
For me, spills are an opportunity to be mindful, to enjoy serendipity, to join in and play/create without expectations. This one was not to be missed. I ran downstairs and grabbed my big girl camera and enjoyed every minute of capturing it.
Is now traveled….
I had passed the trailhead no less than 2,000 times and not gone up. Today was the day. The first day of Fall. I grabbed a gorgeous pal and headed up the trail with my camera. We found lots of treasures. A fort with an old chair and underwear in it (hhhhrrrrrrrmmmm), gems in the form of Rainier beer cans shining from dark crevices, glowing seed pods and much more. Beauty - even in trash - all around.
Sarah shifted her weight behind the podium to her right leg, pinching off her bladder as the heat and pressure of suppressed laughter bore down. She shifted back to the left. The heat rose to her chest and then her throat. After the words escaped her mouth, she bit down hard on her right cheek in a last-ditch effort to stop her body from erupting. It worked. She felt powerful.
Hilda's very soul cringed as the photographer shouted "smile!"
I felt like my mind was constantly going "snap, snap, snap" (camera sound) every step I took in Colorado Springs. We hiked Red Rock Canyon , drove through Garden of the Gods, ventured up (it was uphill both ways somehow?) to School Pond Trail in a thunderstorm, and drove around town picking up magical crystals on the way home. Snap, snap, snap. I've obviously been deprived color in Seattle; the green seemed to jump off the red sand. Boundless beauty and inspiration.
