The Art of Streaming Nature

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Yesterday I was doing my home exercise routine when my zippy Irish music was interrupted on Spotify by one of their ads (I’m too cheap to buy a $ 120-year ad-free subscription).  It was an extra-long commercial about Spotify Premium and the many reasons I should upgrade.  The last one was something like this “Never be without the music you love!  Stream anywhere, even when you are offline!” This got me to thinking why we always need content streaming in our ears?  Have we lost the value of quiet?

img_1744Workout routine done (don’t be too impressed, I don’t work that hard) I changed my clothes and headed out the door with my 13-year-old Golden Retriever for a ramble. We drove to the Benedictine Abbey less than 10 minutes away for a walk in the woods.  They have a series of trails that they allow the public access to.

Car parked we headed off.  It was a relief to be out of the house and in the fresh air, sweet with the scent of coming rain.  We headed uphill on a muddy trail, thick with woods, mosses, ferns, and lichens. The calls of hidden birds surrounded us as Dougie and I made our way up by a gurgling stream with miniature waterfalls.  By gosh I was streaming a real stream! An unlimited sensory experience brought to you by NATURE!

Imagine what I would have missed if I had earbuds in.  I think about the students in high img_1749schools I sub in.  They are constantly with their earbuds, listening to music, watching videos, checking social media.  What about the sounds of birds and the ruminations of their own thoughts? I’m sad for them.

It was a lovely walk. I spent a lot of time observing and looking for ideas to include in my paintings in my new online painting class.  You might see some things from my photographs in my coming artwork….

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I wrote this poem last year while I was subbing at a local high school

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Pausing for Poetry


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. 


Robert Frost

New Year’s Eve I brought some poetry to a gathering to share.  The hostess, a dear friend said “this group won’t go for that” but I  read them anyway after the game we played.  One poem was one I wrote myself, a funny one about aging.  The other two were by Mary Oliver, my favorite poet, and appropriate for the New Year.  I hope they were enjoyed.

Poetry makes one sit and pause as the words are distilled down to the essence of experience.  It slows us down and makes us notice and savor the nuances of language.  I think it’s sad that pausing is going out of fashion these days. I think that if everyone paused and read some poetry daily, this world would be a saner place.

Until a few months back I was writing poetry if- even one line- before I got out of bed in the morning.  Before I went to bed I read some poetry. My days began and ended with a sense of groundedness.

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I miss my morning poetry write and my bedtime poetry ritual that I began a couple of years ago.  Habits sneak away sometimes but I want this one back.  The little pink leather journal embossed with an oak tree is now filled up.  Maybe that’s why I stopped writing- but journals are easily purchased.  That task is now on the list for next week.

If you are new to poetry, no worries.  My poetry habit started a couple years back when I,  a non-English major, noticed I was more likely to write in my journal in poetic form.  Then I started seeking out poetry that I enjoyed. (It’s a wonderful antidote to the news) If you have trouble pausing, noticing, or pondering, pick up a poetry book by Mary Oliver. She will get you out wandering in nature in the comfort of your own home. Devotions her latest anthology is wonderful.  Here is a video clip of her reading…

And here is a poem that I wrote about poetry……..

Begin the Day With a Poem

let the lines of beauty

spin a warm cocoon about you

Revel in its warmth

and the protection it offers

from the harshness of this world

Drink in the loveliness

of pure imagery

and let the words

light candles in the darkness

marking a clear path before you

into the garden of hope.

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When Scrolling Was Not a Verb

smartphone-2454611_1920“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.”
― Albert Einstein

 

I wake up every day still wondering about the changes in this world since I came of age…..

SCROLLING

Name, address, telephone number

Birthdate

Index finger poised I scroll down the years

Down

Down

Down

 

Down past generations xyz

Down before we were gray

And our faces etched with lines

Down when our backs were supple

And our knees strong

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The Art of Staying Sane

IMG_1579I hardly recognize the world we live in.  Even though I attempt to shield myself from too much news, I can’t avoid the tragedies of political chaos, mass shootings, human suffering, cataclysmic storms and forest fires from reaching my ears.  Then there’s climate change. It can cause one to live with low-level anxiety.writing-828911_1920

In order to give myself some level of relief, I have a few strategies.  Writing is my first go to.  The immediacy of pen to paper as a mode of expression is so satisfying.  I may write in my journal, work on a poem or continue to write on a longer essay that I’ve been working on.

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In Praise of Autumn

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” 
― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” 
― Albert Camus

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The Fall Equinox has passed and I am absolutely thrilled to be deep in the autumn colors.  This is the season where I am released from the obligations of tending to biomass.  Living on acreage in W. Oregon we have our share.  We have a big garden, an orchard, lawn and flower beds.  It’s a place where plants like to grow.

The rains have begun, the garden is torn out, the flower beds are mulched for the winter, and the firewood is in and stacked.  This frees up more time to concentrate on my artwork, writing, and music.  I sing in a women’s choir and we are getting ready for our 40401429_1888497791198499_407333225178857472_oholiday show.  Additionally, I play the bodhran, an Irish drum and am learning to play the tenor guitar.  Travels are finished for the year.  It’s good to be home.

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The Art of the Cairn

I learned to look for cairns when I began backpacking in the Sierra Nevada at a young age.  Cairns are little towers of stacked rocks to mark the way of a path or trail.  In the Sierras, they are especially helpful when traveling cross-country away from the main trail.  They are a welcome sight on the granite terrain, knowing you are headed in the right direction.

Since my backpacking days, it seems my entire life I’ve been looking for cairns, literal or metaphorical.  Now I build them, usually with my group three other women friends that I been adventuring with for going on over 25 years.  Usually, these are for more spiritual reasons, sometimes to mark the passage of a loved one.  It is a treasured ritual we have adopted.  Below are some of the cairns we have built or come upon.

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The Art of the Creative Blahs

thermometer-398735_1920It’s another hot smokey summer in Oregon.  It appears that temperatures of 90 and above and forest fires are the new normal.  Summer used to be my favorite season here but now that the jet stream has settled further south, spring and fall will get my vote.  Then air quality has been so poor you really don’t want to be outside doing much.

Motivation has been difficult.  My studio does not have air conditioning.  If I don’t get work done first thing in the morning, it doesn’t get done.  I think I’m getting summer cabin fever.  Who knew there was such a thing?

Rather than just push through it, my usual MO, maybe I should learn to roll with it and make this season the one to read, watch movies, and write more?  Maybe this is a good time to relax my expectations and go with the flow….

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