Wednesday, February 14, 2024

RANDOM PATHWAYS


The opening page from Postcards in the Air 2023 book


Pens run dry
just like a river in a drought
sometimes the pen fails:
words don't tumble out,
don't scratch across the surface.

Other times
a pen pushes ideas
across a page
swirling around rocks and boulders
of the mind,
creating small pools,
leading to new pathways
washing away dirt
to find what is hidden beneath.

I can't say I've ever experienced writer's block or artist's block. Early on, I learned that I needed to push through hesitation, think of everything as practice or an experiment, or pick up some other piece to try. Some days when I start and stop with ideas that don't pan out, I slip another page up onto my computer, start writing about something else, and keep doing that until I reach the kernel that had been waiting there in the shadows of my mind. I have heard of writers who get so stymied that nothing comes out. After ten years of writing this Friday blog, I am confident that some idea will percolate up out of the dregs. With a computer, I don't scrunch up a piece of paper and throw it into the wind. I can save those unfinished ideas in another file and maybe take them out to work them over again.

I'm more picky with myself with art. Coming from a family of artists, I have much to compare my work against. I have managed to rise above the self-doubt that creeps into creative work. I think of what I am doing as play, as practice, and that eases the doubt. I am lucky I do not earn my living with my work. I am always surprised and pleased when someone offers to buy one of my pieces, but that is not my goal. My art is my way to express my thoughts and feelings, and to develop more skills.

Sometimes simple ideas become the groundwork for something bigger. Since we moved to our new apartment in January, I have taken a photo every morning from the same spot looking out the window over Mission Creek and the buildings on the other side. The sun hits the windows of the buildings, creating brilliant jewels of light. The shadows of the morning slide down into the creek, and the birds begin to circle the water below. Some mornings grey clouds fill the sky, other times the sky is bright blue. The window spot has become a good place to start the day.




 

A friend invited us to a local ballet production. The company created a ballet in honor of Mary, her wife, who passed away a couple of years ago. Mary had been a big supporter of the ballet, and, among other things, was a certified clown. The ballet called Dr. Magic was a delight and focused on all the movements that clowns use at the same time presenting the love that people felt for Mary. The ballet was a wonderful way to pay tribute to someone who brought joy to others.





I started writing posts for this blog in 2012. The anniversary of my blog is in March. I only wrote nine posts in 2012 and 2013 so I consider 2014 to be the official start date since I wrote almost every week during that year.  Recently I found a blog publishing website that allows me to have a printed version of all my posts. The books look terrific. They are well-designed and formatted so that each post is easy to read. At the beginning of the book, the publishers have pulled a collage of the photos I've used within the year. You can see the pages at the top of this post. I am pleased with the result and so glad that people continue to read my blog posts. Thank you!










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An important documentary, 20 Days in Mariupol, is well worth watching. A good reminder of what is at stake in Ukraine.


Friday, February 9, 2024

GOOD WORDS NOT FORGOTTEN

 


When was the last time you heard someone say, Hogwash, or Balderdash, Bullpucky, Razzamatazz, Fudgel, Dillydally, Lollygag, or Tin Whistle? Did you know that a Tin Whistle is a kind of Fipple Flute along with the recorder and flageolet? Have you ever heard of a fipple flute or flageolet? I hadn't, but I love the alliteration when I say these "F" words.
    If you look up the origins of these colorful words, you will find some interesting connections. Some are replacements for swear words or as "lollygag" was once used, as a euphemism for love-making. Lollygag became a word that means to waste time instead. Hum.
    Reading Kory Stamper's Word by Word, the Secret Life of Dictionaries, reawakened an interest in the origin of words. English is such a versatile language that words change meanings and usage over time. That's why we have lexicographers who painstakingly create the definitions found in our dictionaries to help us keep track of what a word means.


Sakura: Signs of Spring



    The meaning of an acronym can also change over time. LOL used to mean Little Old Lady, but now it's Laugh Out Loud, what will its next iteration be? In our hurried-up world, words that are too long become acronyms instead, such as Post-Modernism shortened POMO, OMG instead of Oh My God, and FOMO or Fear of Missing Out. The use of acronyms flourishes in the English language because it accepts change and adapts to new meanings.
    Other languages have different ways of dealing with new words and meanings. In France, any new word needs to be formally approved by the Academie francaise before it appears in their official dictionary. Yet, in everyday use, foreign words creep into French, "weekend" and "smartphone" being prime examples.
    The Japanese use three different alphabets to create words. First, The Japanese used kanji, the original written language borrowed from Korea and China. Kanji is an ideogram version of writing and includes both sound and meaning within the word. A good example is the word "Mori", which means forest. Mori repeats the symbol for tree three times and looks like a forest.





    Hiragana and Katagana, the other two alphabets developed by the Japanese, have different purposes and are syllabic. Hi ra ga na and ka ta ga na are easy to pronounce once the syllables are separated. Hiragana is a placeholder between nouns and used at the end of sentences. Katagana is used to make the written expression of foreign words.
    Cherry blossoms (sakura) are a significant part of Japanese culture because they appear at the beginning of Spring and are transient. People gather for cherry blossom viewing parties and watch as the buds turn to blossoms and then the blossoms fall and cover the ground like pink snow. I found this Japanese word for the changing nature of life which includes the symbol for cherry blossom:

Mi kka mi nu ma no sa ku ra


The last character of this word stands for sakura (cherry blossom). Can you see the tree? There is also the symbol for female within the symbol:



That's the beauty of discovering the origins of words I hadn't known or used before.

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Thanks to these four delightful books that inspired this post:

Kory Stamper, Word by Word: the Secret Life of Dictionaries
Joe Gilliard, The Little Book of Lost Words
Yee-Lum Mak, Other Wordly
John Koenig, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

All four are available at https://bookshop.org

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Looking for something to make for Valentine's Day? Check out my Project Directions page. 


Happy Valentine's Day!




Friday, February 2, 2024

SEEING RED

Kuratake watercolor reds and blues


 Among all the colors on a watercolor palette, I find red to be one of the hardest to use. Red often becomes too bright, too bold, attention-getting, or too muddied and dark and not easy to pick up with a Magic Eraser or wet Viva towel. I have to be careful where I paint it. A small spot of red will draw the eye and stop there. In this quick sketch below, I used sprays and dabs of watered-down red to lead the eye across the page. The red anchors the black marks and helps to give the sketch depth.




When I make abstract calligraphic pieces, red is a useful tool. One small square somewhere in the mark-making anchors the abstract strokes.



Like all colors on the color wheel, red has warm and cool variations. I gravitate towards the cooler versions since I tend to paint with colors that are mixed together, greyer, and quieter than something right out of the tube. I have to be careful mixing red into other colors on my palette. Just a small spot of red can overwhelm other colors. Adding a touch of red to blue makes a good tone for clouds or shadows.



I found a small dried-up blob of red watercolor in an old palette tray and put it in some water to see what would happen. Once the red blob dissolved, the result was red water, of course. Could I do anything with that red water? I put it into a spare bottle and sprayed it across part of an unfinished watercolor. Too much light red  (pink!) splatter. I wiped it off before it had time to dry. I brushed six small red squares on a page in my art journal and dropped some ultramarine blue onto the wet surfaces. The blue mixed and fanned out on the wet red surface.




I thought about those squares and couldn't come up with a way to use them in a painting so I decided to try to use the red tinted paper as background for sketches. I had watched from my window seagulls, crows, and pigeons stand as sentinels on the corners of the buildings like the gargoyles of Medieval cathedrals. Sparrows and finches lined up along the edges too. I wanted to remember those images. I used the squares to draw small versions of what I'd seen and painted them with regular watercolor. I used gouache, and white and yellow colored pencils to cover some of the pink areas and to make the birds' beaks stand out. Making art is a process of trial and mistakes to help me decide if the attempt is successful or not. In this case, it was a good experiment, but one that I probably will not use again. The red water will be good for our two indoor plants.


Painting with red as part of an exercise in Birgit O'Connor's watercolor class







Wednesday, January 24, 2024

WHAT'S ON YOUR BOOK SHELF?


Maybe because it is winter. Maybe because it is cold outside, and we stay inside more often. Maybe because January is a quiet month and a good time to read. I find myself reading more books in January. 
   
A long time ago, I started to keep a list of the books I read. I have filled several small volumes with titles, authors' names, and notes about the books. I didn't include the books we remember from childhood such as Nancy Drew, Wind in the Willows, Winnie the Pooh, Jane Eyre, Mary Poppins, Tom Sawyer, and Huck Finn nor did I include books from college such as The Illiad and The Odyssey, Crime and Punishment, Beowulf (how I ever got through the old language of that book, I don't remember), and all the other world literature that was required reading at that time.
    
Looking back on my list, I realized that in the last few years, I have read my favorite book of the year in January. The titles include Hamnet by Maggie O'Farrell, The Wild Places by Richard MacFarlane (the one book I needed a dictionary at my side as I read it), The Heart of Everything That Is: The Untold Story of Red Cloud, an American Legend by Bob Drury and Tom Clavin, The Library Book by Susan Orlean, and last year, The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles. This year, I think my favorite could be Word by Word: The Secret Live of Dictionaries by Kory Stamper, a lexicographer, who is one of those people who decides which words will appear in a dictionary, defines the word and changes the description as the usage of the word evolves. She makes something that seems like an unexciting life into something magical and important.


  Two good reads


   
By fourth grade, my parents allowed me to check out books from the adult section of the library. My first choices included history books, especially about the White migration across the Plains in the 19th century and the effect on the Native Tribes already living there. The most recent book I read about this era, The Heart of Everything That Is, was another gut-wrenching, unmasking view of that time in our history.
   
I also discovered a love of mysteries. I remember reading my way through the Mr. and Mrs. North series written by Francis and Richard Lockridge about married sleuths who solved mysteries in the manner of Agatha Christie novels. I also powered through all of Christie's mysteries. Playing Clue with my sister increased my interest in solving "Who Dunnits." I enjoyed reading how an investigator explored the other characters who became prime suspects. I found good company in Presidents Kennedy and Obama who also liked this genre.
    
What kinds of books do you read? Mysteries or non-fiction? Sci-fi? Generational stories? History or Biographies? Romances? What piqued your interest in these genres or themes? Do you have a favorite from last year?

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One of my favorite writers, Margaret Renkl, wrote three wonderful essays about winter in her state of Tennessee. You can read them in the New York Times here:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/22/opinion/snow-winter-climate-change.html?searchResultPosition=1 

Check out her website here:

https://margaretrenkl.com

Good book recommendations by friends:

Mary, Marcia, and Letty recommend:  Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus

The Magnificent Lives of Margarie W Post by Allison Pataki

Bill recommends: The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James MacBride, West with Giraffes by Lynda Rutledge, and Democracy Awakening by Heather Cox Richardson

Christy recommends: Horse by Geraldine Brooks and Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams

Rose recommends: Wannabe: Reckonings with the Pop Culture That Shaped Me

Marcia recommends: Horse by Geraldine Brooks, Demon Copperfield by Barbara Kingsolver, and Trust by Herman Diaz

Mary, Marcia, and I all recommend stories by Kate Quinn:  good reads

Check out this updated version of the 100 Must-Read Classics. How many have you read?

https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/2022/05/100-must-read-classic-books

Friday, January 19, 2024

EARLY MORNING ON THE EIGHTH FLOOR


Photos for January from the Northeast Window


Not too early in the morning from the northeast bedroom window of our new apartment, I can watch the sun hit the windows of the apartment buildings across the channel. The sun touches a few of the windows with golden light. The seagulls circle and land on the still waters of the channel. I hear their off-key caw as they greet each other. I check the shoreline for the rocks that are hidden by high tide. Sometimes the water is as reflective as a mirror. Other times, the wind ruffles the water and the mirror disappears. 

I can see the giant electronic billboard at Oracle Park where the Giants baseball team plays. The billboard is on 24/7 and flashes enormous photos of ball players, Motocross riders, or the trendy entertainers who will come to the park in the future. I can see the towers of the Bay Bridge rise above the park and Yerba Buena Island in the distance.  I watch steam rising from pipes on several buildings and I have to remind myself that this isn't Tokyo or Paris. I am in San Francisco.

I see a chattering of sparrows fly to the edge of the roof below and line up like little soldiers. I watch walkers amble across the street to the channel parkway, many with dogs in tow. I hear the roar of freeway traffic which sounds more like a river than individual cars and trucks. I hear the occasional forceful commuter train whistle as the train surges towards the Fourth Street terminal. Sirens from ambulances and fire trucks screech as they race towards the hospital emergency rooms. Occasionally, I hear the alarm that signals one of the drawbridges across the channel is moving upwards as all traffic stops on the streets.



Channel Street

I am too far above the street to notice any odors or feel the street-side weather from the window. The northeast window looks out onto Mission Creek, which separates us from the rest of San Francisco. Bill and I moved to another apartment on the corner of the building in the same complex we had been living in since November. I like that there are more windows. Bill misses the sun from our old south-facing apartment. 

At night, the view from the northeast bedroom window is a different story.



Mission Creek at night by Bill Slavin



Friday, January 12, 2024

LOVE STORIES




The tall handsome young man turned from the counter as a young woman walked through the cafe door. His eye lit up when he saw her, and they stared with delight into each other's eyes.

A soppy beginning to a romance novel? No, just an everyday occurrence at our local cafe. We live in a neighborhood full of young people, young families, medical students, and people from all over the world. We hear different languages spoken around us and listen to Happy Birthday songs sung in the children's park across the way. We see the beginnings of new love as the couples around us chat with enthusiasm about their daily lives and new-formed ideas. 

As the young couple greeted each other with sparkles in their eyes, two grey-haired couples walked behind them. They entered the cafe with the casual assurance of old relationships, aware of each other, one touching the elbow of the other, and knowing exactly what one or the other would order. The four elders sat down together in the back and talked amiably among themselves.





Someone asked my husband Bill what the secret to a long marriage was. His immediate answer was "Curiosity." I would agree, but I also would consider, "Commitment." And a sense of humor about each other's foibles. When we have the inevitable rough patches in our marriage, I lose my sense of humor and patience. When those important traits come back again, I know all is right with our world.

I think of other couples that I know. One couple's sense of humor fills their lives. They haven't lost the sparkle in their eyes when they look at each other and laugh with glee at either a witty or ironic phrase one of them utters. They chuckle at their comical facial expressions. They are both artists and some of their creativity seeps into their daily lives.

Another couple does almost everything together, checking with each other before making any commitment, and holding hands as they walk together. Another couple highlights the good in the other so that their friends know what the best part of their partner is. Two others give each other a kiss and say, "I love you," each time they go separate ways. Thinking of all of these couples, I do not think there is one answer to the question of what makes a marriage or a long relationship work. Maybe, a little bit of luck to have found someone with the right balance of acceptance, empathy, and willingness to work at staying together.




 

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

FULL OF IDEAS



The Letter G, one of three completed pages from my newest ABCEDarian


"It's in the Bekins" has become a weekly phrase we utter when we can't find something. We hadn't planned to spend a year living in different places after we sold our home. We thought a few short months would give us ideas of places to live (and it helped us eliminate some) and a house to move into. We packed up most of our belongings into Bekins storage vaults.

Now that winter has set in with its chilly mornings and grey skies, we ask, "Where's that warm sweater? I only brought two shirts and a couple of pairs of pants. The rest is "in the Bekins."

"Mixing bowls, measuring cups, kitchen scissors, and knives? They're in the Bekins."

"Where are my rulers, stapler, photo storage and shredder, punches, and craft papers? In the Bekins," we both exclaim.

Tempting to buy new replacements, but then what would we do with the new ones when all the stuff "in the Bekins" is delivered to whatever place we find to live? Twice as much as before and we were trying to downsize? We have to laugh at ourselves, which is not "in the Bekins."




At the beginning of the year, many artists and writers put down their thoughts about the coming year. Some people pick a word to live by for the year, and others make resolutions. I've already added and canceled an exercise app realizing that I had little time to add other routines to my morning stretches in January (we are on the move from one apartment to another this month). The app suggested fasting to lose weight. I decided to postpone any changes till February and deleted the app after reading their food suggestions. At least the app made me think about my daily meals. I've decided that my word for 2024 is Unfinished.





For the last couple of weeks, I've returned to the ABCEDarian sketchbook that I started in a calligraphy class last February (full circle: maybe my year needs to start in February). The art journal is divided into two-page spreads for each letter of the alphabet. It is unfinished. I like to make alphabet books, but this book has taken more time because I have tried to stay with words that inspire me to make art. The letter J had me stumped. Journal is the obvious answer, but what after that? I wrote down J words: Jump, Japan, Jazzy, Joy, Jumpstart, and January. Phew, just a few. I thought of that process like bubbles rising from a bubble blower with some of the ideas growing, some of them popping as soon as released, others gathering together into clusters as they rise above me. I kept the pages for the letter J simple with copies of pages from other sketchbooks and an illustration of those bubbles rising. Now I can turn the page to start on another letter.

Unfinished still.




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A good post to read to start your new year. Check out Literally Letty here:

https://literallyletty.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-birthday-challenge-what-will-you-do.html