When I sit down to draw designs for charms, I often find myself doodling first suns and then flowers. I'm not sure what it is about flowers but I see so much in their natural layering of petals, leaves, stamens and stems. Maybe it appeals to the folk artist in me who has spent years decorating furniture with the whimsical and imaginative flowers found in everyday decorative painting from around the world. You may see a flower, I see a story. I like telling that story, preserving that memory in drawings and metal.

WYN-1014WB
Happy Flower

This is one of my most recent flowers, cast in white bronze. I love the story it is telling of unfolding itself layer by layer, petal by petal. I am waiting for more blooms in my flower bed and more stories to tell after all these spring rains leave me blooms to savor.

An Artfest Mention

Some days just fly by as if on speed and I am the one on the ground playing catch up while riding a tricycle! This week has been a busy one with the last ever Artfest in Port Townsend. So that means a week of longer shop hours, sacrificed studio time and sweet moments with people whose paths I may not cross again for awhile if ever. Bitter sweet, I'd say! I am going to so miss the creative burst of energy all the artfest students and teachers bring to town and the many friends I've made over the 13 years of this wonderful event. 

Jesse Girl

My Jesse girl is getting so old now. I watch her struggle up from the floor and be easily pushed over by much younger Daisy. She can't go for rides in the car anymore and you can see that when it comes time to play, she will sit it out. She is still great studio company and quietly snores away when I can spend the day in there. She wants to be with me and I like her with me. We, like Jesse grow too soon old and in her deep brown soulful eyes, I know we do not have too many more tomorrows. I am still so thankful she is here and know that she has been here a very long time. In dog years, she is a grand and ancient wise woman,  aglow in the splendor of her gathered wisdom. Strong with the love she gives. How will my days play out when she is gone?

Storms

I know tomorrow is supposed to be the first day of spring but you can not tell it by the strong winds blowing outside tonight. Nor could you feel spring yesterday when we drove to Olympia in first snow, then sleet, then hail. I am ready for a little more sun. Not a lot and I am certainly not asking for heat but a spot of sun here and there would feel good and uplifting.

Yesterday, we took the day off and drove down the Hood Canal to Olympia. I love that drive especially coming up and over Mount Walker where the tree line meets the road and the snow in the trees looks almost dreamlike.

Even Jake and his side kick Ben, went with us on the promise that Jake could drive through the business park and practice parking.

Right now, since I need to work again tomorrow on my day off, I am calling it a night and heading off to dreamland but first some pictures from around the canal.

Snow!

Yesterday & Before

It seems like just yesterday that I sat down early in the evening and posted on my blog but of course, it was long before that. I have wanted to post but the blank page on this laptop can be just as intimidating as the blank paper was in school. It has been cold and gray here and although I have heard rumors of sunshine in Seattle and Sequim, I have yet to see it here. The grayness can slow down my clock so that when I am home after a day in the shop or out in the studio and dinner is through and cleaned up, I just want to close my eyes and sleep. Hibernate until bedtime, then sleep some more until morning. Slow everything down -  gently, quietly, completely and sleep.

Before I let my eyes close for the ending of this really awesome, I saw a big owl in the tree on the way home day; I 'll post a few pictures of some of my Tucson treasures.

Say a Little Prayer for me, for you

I do not think that there is a woman out there that does not like to have her home, whatever it may be, to herself. It's not to say that you do not love your partner and kids or the big dog that lays around the living room but it is ever so nice to be by yourself in your own space. No one to answer to, no one needs anything or asks for anything, you don't need to cook or run the laundry. In the quiet of your own home you can just be there. Read, sew, knit, water plants, have a cup of hot chocolate, relax. Ah, the sweet company of one's self! Today, I had those hours in my home. Solitude in a space, a place, I wanted to be. Sweet.

So in my contemplative mood, in the loving solitude of my own home, I made rosaries today. I had new centers and crosses just cast in britanium and some new matted Czech glass beads that combined to make  pretty, yet unusual rosaries.

I love making rosaries. I love the meditation that comes over me as I turn bead after bead. The silence involved in the repetitive turning of loops, the silent counting of the beads in groups of ten, then three. I am not Catholic but I can appreciate prayer beads. There is prayer in making them. There is comfort in the turning and linking, the handling, the drape of the finished piece in your hands. The solace of a tangible connection to prayer. The technique is not complicated nor does it require any real skill but the intangible felt when beads are handled in prayerful thought, make the process a religious one.

While at the hospital with Phil today waiting for his surgery to be completed, I sat in a quiet waiting room with large windows that looked out over a lush green garden filled with native plants. The wind was really blowing but this garden was sheltered by several walls of the hospital. Flanked with iron gates made by a Port Townsend artist, I was able to find some peace from the anxieties that raced through my mind.

We have a small local hospital with views of the water from nearly every patient's room. It is quiet and clean and filled with local artwork. We were greeted by the staff, many of whom we knew from the shop and around town. What could have been a very unpleasant experience just wasn't. I sat and waited, looking at the garden and knitted, lost in my own revelry and grateful for the love I felt from my community. Grateful also for the care my husband was receiving and will continue to receive as he works his way through his recovery. Tonight, I feel blessed to have been a small part of something that works in my town.

Now, if we could all have medical insurance at an affordable rate so that we could get the care we need and not be consumed with worry. Fortunately, Phil is eligible for medicare and he has supplemental insurance. If I had needed to be in the hospital, I would be thinking of costs, bills and not thinking of healing.

Anyhow, I am so thankful for everyone's thoughts and prayers for Phil today. I am truly a blessed woman!