Fifteen Years

Please mom, it's early, stop taking pictures!

Fifteen years ago today my youngest son ( of two ) arrived. It was a long day of labor and barfing and being overwhelmed by all the attention from the doctor ( who I adored ), nurses and a few friends. Phil never once left my side and my friend Yvonne, I think the whole thing scared the bejesus out of her, ran errands for Phil to get him food and O'Douls. I never had a moment to be alone with my husband, a moment to think, catch my breath, take in all that was happening. I did have the good hospital room though, everyone told me so. It has a view clear to downtown, over soft still brown hills and grass all the way to the marina and the waters beyond. Jacob came into the world amongst comments from my attendees of how long his fingers were in mid afternoon, on a Saturday. Didn't he know that I am in retail and ALWAYS work Saturdays? He changed my life, Phil's life, the lives of all of us and for me, he made everything just that much more sweeter. Now, let's see if I survive the teenage years! Love to my Jake, the rake.

Gallery Walk

This past Saturday found me doing the local monthly Gallery Walk in Port Townsend. It has been a long time since I was actually part of the " circuit " but just like riding a bicycle, the walk came right back to me. Katya came over and we chatted between viewers and by the end of the night Frank, Marlene and I were rolling in the aisles with laughter talking about age, senior housing and the obstacles of being older. I think it is the first time I laughed so long and hard that tears rolled down my cheeks and I felt like I had had a spa vacation! I would do Gallery walk every month just to have that kind of interaction and those deep, hearty laughs.
Here are a few of my paintings that have been undercover for some time in my work space above the shop. Uncovering them and placing them around the room was like having a party with old, dear friends. I wanted to run around the room and hug all the paintings! Until October - see you then in the walk!

Chairs as easels.

Foxgloves - a flower.

An over shot of part of my work room above the shops.

This Weekend

This weekend, the very first of September, marks my return to the gallery walk circuit here in Port Townsend. It has been several years since I have officially shown my paintings and fiber work. Not since we closed Franklin House Gallery, have I regularly shown new work. My paintings, the most recent ones, will be on display in my classroom space upstairs from the bead shop. This little room is also my workroom -slash - sewing room where I create my felt banners and woolen paintings. This week it is all cleaned up but I expect that in future gallery walks, you will see my mess and the works in progress. I am a little trepidatious about this as I have no idea whether people will find me, or respond to my work which lays bare my soul, or as in the most recent past, even remember that I am a painter. Take a breath, dear self, get a grip and display your work. All along I have made new paintings and drawings but not having a gallery, they have not been displayed or framed. I have been away so long from the scene! I have to make " art speak ". I need to look arty. I need to open my head and heart to studio visitors! Oh, scary, scary!

Thought for Today

‎"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own and you know what you know. And you are the guy who will decide where to go." Dr. Seuss

Sometimes things happen and you can think to yourself, " Whew! Glad that is not me! " and then other times things happen that make you stand back and say, lesson learned, life appreciated! Such was the lesson yesterday.

My doctor, friend and confidant had an emergency brain bleed,  ( when are they ever not an emergency ? ) and is in the intensive care wing of a regional hospital. No one knows what the outcome will be for certain and no one knows at what functioning level she will return to. Of course, I am saddened, shocked. Of course, I am sending prayers and healing thoughts her way, writing in her on line journal. I am also once again reminded of the preciousness of life, how fleeting it can be and how suddenly things can turn on a dime. Wow, just wow.

Hold close those you love and care about, hold tight to the memories you make now and hold even tighter to the love you find. I love you all.

Community Bowl Project

One of the things I promised myself this year was that if I had the chance to volunteer here and there, I would make the time, even a wee bit of time, and do it. Yesterday found Jacob and me at the annual Uptown Street Fair ( which I started more than 20 years ago ) working at the Community Bowl Project. Local potters donate thrown porcelain bowls, glazes and their time to make the little dishes that the community members paint at local fairs and then sell for $ 10 each at a later event. The full $10 goes to the food bank. It's a great way for the community itself to participate creatively in making food bank donations.

Porcelain bowls for sale all signed by the artists!
Many painted by the community's children.

It felt great to be outside on the warmest Saturday of the year, speaking with my fellow residents and painting a bowl with my friend Marlene's delightful twin grandchildren ( 11 months ). Henry and Tommy are budding artists.

In my heart, I am so happy and feel so much more enriched to be donating my time. Really it is more valuable than anything else I can give. xo, Lois

Painting supplies & glazes.

Other craft vendor booths.

More crafty people & booths early in the day.

And the band played on!

A Love Story

 My friend Alan came to Port Townsend from New York to show new trims and ribbons for my shop. He often comes twice a year and we are able to sit, look at new wonderful sometimes shiny merchandise and have political discussions. We have been doing this for years, ever since I walked into his showroom in Manhattan 11 years ago. At the time neither of us imagined that our friendship would grow or that we would find common ground and look forward to our visits. He being a conservative traditionalist, even a republican and me being an ultra liberal arty sort.
Today, Alan told me a story. A story of how he views relationships of married friends. He said that marriage is like a river and a rock. One person is the river and the other the rock. The rock is solid, stands its ground and can't be moved while the playful river winds its way over, around and along the rock. He said two rocks together don't work because they crash upon each other and neither moves. Two rivers won't work because they just keep flowing and moving their own way. But a river and a rock, they work together. He said Phil was my rock, someone I could lean on and return to, who would stand his ground and let me be the river, moving around him, journeying onto other places yet  always returning to the rock. An intimate love story that is without end. Timeless. I was so touched by his story, this analogy of a marriage, that I could have cried.

Now, you know I am not telling the story of the river and the rock as well as Alan but I think the idea is clear. I will look at my marriage this way forever after. I am free and yet grounded by my rock. Safe, returning, ever moving, ever exploring and still protected. What an insight with beauty and sensitivity in his words.