tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33164682520329625092024-03-14T04:50:40.510-04:00Wadsworth~Noll Studiowork, wanderings
and wonderingsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger174125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-5815112501270445412014-01-12T19:14:00.000-05:002014-01-12T19:14:24.865-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-91118571883983275652013-11-28T14:47:00.004-05:002013-11-28T14:47:59.579-05:00Enjoy the day!The storms have moved in and Winter has come early to the North Country. I'd give you a pretty picture of the snowfall, but Blogger is pitching fits again. We'll be back shortly with an update. In the meantime, have a wonderful Thanksgiving. Eat to much, laugh to much, enjoy the day! ~tracey jeanUnknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-52955102719663558092013-11-02T09:00:00.000-04:002013-11-02T09:00:02.537-04:00clownin' around<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Now that Halloween has past, i can finally share a very special piece i had been working on. I was commissioned to make a doll replica of a special gentleman that had passed. I was given the photo (in the bottom right corner of the first photo) and given the following requirement. the wig, the fangs and blood. The award was to be given in D.C. at a party held on Halloween- so no chance of ruining any surprise- and the wonderful client gave me plenty of time to complete the project (not all do you know -wink, wink)<br />
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not knowing the person in question and yet knowing that it was going to be used as an award in his honor, to celebrate his love for Halloween and dressing a bit 'psycho'- i can tell you now- it was a daunting task. challenging new territory. i liked it.<br />
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it isn't often that, as an artist, you are presented with such out of the comfort zone commissions. usually, you are commissioned to make duplicates of your work that people love, but are not always quick enough to purchase the original. To get a commission so out of my territory, and for such an emotional work- i was truly honored.<br />
the frosting? the client was over the moon with the outcome. <br />
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and i must admit, i am pretty pleased with the outcome- not a bad liking, eh?<br />
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celebrate on another.<br />
be a clown.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-34285141531122330452013-11-01T09:00:00.000-04:002013-11-01T09:00:03.989-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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apple? </div>
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what apple?</div>
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i didn't take no stinkin' apple.</div>
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chomp, chomp, chomp.</div>
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laugh well.</div>
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share the feast.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-82606461259635515622013-10-31T11:30:00.000-04:002013-10-31T11:30:00.567-04:00a good night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dance around the bonfire.</div>
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toast the new year.</div>
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honor your ancestors.</div>
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be thankful for the harvest.</div>
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share the feast.</div>
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enjoy the night.</div>
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Happy Halloween. </div>
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Blessed Samhain.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-72259902309574185532013-10-30T09:00:00.000-04:002013-10-30T09:00:07.293-04:00snowbirds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a selection of misc. work that never made it to the shop~ instead they went straight on to my glorious summer collectors. i thank you all.<br />
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gratitude. <br />
appreciation.<br />
live well.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-43684518185690059122013-10-28T09:00:00.000-04:002013-10-28T09:00:07.571-04:00sunshine and plaster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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live well.<br />
enjoy the sunshine.<br />
wherever you find it.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-11834500036684580602013-10-26T14:11:00.000-04:002013-10-26T17:01:49.790-04:00Poof. Part two. take 27. the plaster <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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of course now that time has loosened and the rains are here- blogger has decided to not cooperate- in a very large way. only HTML allowed. nothing else will work, and frankly people- i am too tired to try to be that clever. the change of seasons has brought me the inevitable cold and delightful pair of tody goggles has left me a bit fuzzy. so. photo bombs it is. you are hereby relieved of reading rambling banter and trite commentary from the peanut gallery until further notice (either blogger gets its act together or the [purely medicinal, mind you] whiskey haze wears off enough for me to figure something else out) so there you are; interpret as you will, catch up, flip through, enjoy. life in pictures begins ...now <br />
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live well.<br />
love each other.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-62885715970686615182013-10-07T02:39:00.000-04:002013-10-07T02:39:30.065-04:00poof. part one. the mud.<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
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it wasn't a large POOF. small really, almost unnoticeable. I turned around and summer was gone. A blur of plantings and paintings, of plaster and mud. so now it is time for catching up and slowing down.</div>
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The harvests are finally in. A grand total of 47 acorn squash, 42 lbs of fresh dug potatoes, 37 ears of corn, a bushel each of peaches, onions and peppers and 11 bags of zucchini stuffing the freezer to capacity.</div>
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pies, muffins, sauces all tucked away.</div>
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having a garden is the gift that keeps on giving.</div>
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peach pie and fried zuchinni are the closest thing to bliss come february when the snow is 2 feet deep and the winds are harsh. The hardest job you'll ever love.</div>
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it was a horrible (horrible!) year for tomatoes. Loads of rain and very little heat make very unhappy tomatoes. It is the first week of October and there are still about 2 bushels of tomatoes still on the plant and still very green. Since they are all sauce tomatoes you can't even fry them up properly- so it looks like there will be a very large batch of late season salsa in the kitchen this fall. I forced about 24 lbs into red to get them into the pot for pizza and pasta sauces for freezing but not nearly enough to last through the winter. </div>
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for those of you not in the know- if you have tomatoes that are just on the brink of changing- that icky pale not quite pink but not quite green color- find yourself a brown paper sack (i say find because at least in these parts paper sacks are somewhat of a commodity- another downfall of the plastic generation!) anyway- toss your tomatoes in a paper sack and close it up tight. set them on the back of your counter and forget about them for a day or two and when you open the sack- voila! red ripe tomatoes.</div>
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So the big surprise of the summer was the melon. Cantalope and watermelon- by the dozen. Surprise because all of the cantalope vines (seemingly) died. first by sunstroke, then by drowing. frustrated, i ignored them. next thing i knew they were crawling all over the place, threatening the lettuce patch and trying to make a break for the gate. As for the watermelons- they are a tricky bunch- too much water and they don't get sweet. not enough water and they don't get red. With the driving rains we had i was sure i was going to wind up with big green balls of pale pink, well, water. In the end- I wound up delivering several to the library, and pawning them off on unsuspecting summer folks along the lake shore. They were in such high demand, they have made the final cut for the farm stand next year! i can grow melons. who knew? so there you have it. the mud. i went from an old barren field to a full freezer/pantry/fridge in four fleeting months. and some how, some where, in the middle of it all, i managed to attend a few art shows, make a few friends, have a few laughs and learn a few lessons. So i suppose, it is no wonder that the summer seems to have passed in the turn of a head. </div>
next up, the plaster... <br />
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till then, </div>
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live well, </div>
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stay happy. </div>
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don't blink! </div>
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tracey jean <br />
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so, blogger is acting up again and i had to post this through html coding- you'll forgive the glitches and run togethers- i'm a bit rusty!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-42191861420635832022013-05-01T08:39:00.000-04:002013-05-01T08:39:00.696-04:00Happy May Day!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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May the day bring you endless possibilities, new beginnings</div>
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and bright blessings.</div>
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till then,</div>
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live well.</div>
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enjoy the sun.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-91854090714798838312013-04-30T20:30:00.000-04:002013-04-30T20:30:01.261-04:00Infatuation...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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can you blame me?</div>
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till then,<br />
live well.<br />
magic can happen.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-54743417088008988102013-04-30T09:21:00.000-04:002013-04-30T09:21:00.182-04:00when trying to garden<div style="text-align: center;">
on warm April mornings, it is always handy</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a5jqRB75H_Y/UXt8SHZ3hhI/AAAAAAAAKC4/Q_X0P37wtPg/s1600/snakecharmer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" lwa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a5jqRB75H_Y/UXt8SHZ3hhI/AAAAAAAAKC4/Q_X0P37wtPg/s400/snakecharmer.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to have a snake charmer.. on hand.</div>
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till then,<br />
live well.<br />
better him than me.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-39676296881219480142013-04-29T09:16:00.000-04:002013-04-29T10:28:18.349-04:00totally plasteredin a good way.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9NjyLW6_tgc/UXt0L57tVLI/AAAAAAAAKB8/ObPreLj9FB0/s1600/workpost6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" lwa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9NjyLW6_tgc/UXt0L57tVLI/AAAAAAAAKB8/ObPreLj9FB0/s320/workpost6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This piece is one of my favorites. plaster over burlap over canvas. crackled, carved and burnished into submission. part of a fossil series i am creating this summer in the studio- <br />
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i love working with plaster. it is relatively forgiving, extremely versatile and just loads of fun. The textures and effects you can achieve are endless.<br />
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again, plaster over burlap. but this time over wood. acrylic burnished into the plaster and sealed with an archival satin, to promote the overall freso feel of this piece, which i love. an impressionist view of the pond buried in the oak grove beyond the hay fields. one of my favorite places on the farm. <br />
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another impressionist view. This piece is created with deep grooves of molding paste over plaster, on canvas with acrylic.<br />
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hope floats. an abstract created in plaster over wood. Acrylic with copper ink.<br />
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I told you plaster was versatile. It is one of my favorite mediums to work with as it allows me to use it to what ever end the muse subscribes for the day. and you probably thought it was just for walls! :O)<br />
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all of these pieces will be available for sale in the next few days over at the shop. If you are interested in aquiring a piece before they list, you can just drop me an inquiry via email (see contact above) and i can send you the sizing and pricing on each.<br />
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it is turning out to be a fabulous day here in the north country. Trying to balance studio time and farm time is getting a bit tricky. when i am one place i want to be in the other. I am trying desperatly to learn how to schedule and also self control. so, to that end- enough fun time in the studio now. its back to the plow.<br />
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I hope you are enjoying your day.<br />
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until then,<br />
live well.<br />
make it brilliant.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-592772890109689632013-04-28T08:38:00.000-04:002013-04-29T10:27:48.010-04:00and sow it beginsNow that the weather has taken a respite and the earth is beginning to thaw, it is time to get all those plans out, dust them off and put them to work!<br />
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first up, the garden, since that is the one with an actual schedule that must be kept to.<br />
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ingredients: <br />
One hay field, that used to be an animal paddock about 100 years ago.<br />
a rototiler -deliciously supplied gratis by a local retired farmer- blessings in disguise. the motor just needed to be re-worked and voila!<br />
an iron rake.<br />
front end loader- for rock collecting. (did i mention that this is limestone country?)<br />
a bucket for collecting the artifacts buried. (you would not believe some of the things that have been thrown/buried/left out in the field for years!)<br />
3 days<br />
5 blisters<br />
and a set of very sore shoulders<br />
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Now it may not seem from the photo that much progress has been made, but it is all about the sod removal. and by sod, i don't mean that pretty green stuff you lovingly tend in your back yard. I am talking about north country grass. <br />
Did I ever tell you about north country grass? It comes straight from the place that all things evil come from. you can cut it to dirt level and with one slight drizzle it will be three inches tall and green as anything. You mow it every three days in the summer and it doesn't stop growing until mid november. seriously. first snow better be over 4 inches, or the green stuff will poke itself through. stubborn as hell and its root system is unmatched. chainmail dreams of being this when it grows up. evil, i tell you. evil.<br />
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more progress on the garden later, though. the tractor has to come in and plow up the remaining grass root balls, more raking rocks then the fence. <br />
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Time to jump start some seedlings. a poor mans hot box.<br />
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while i am still in the process of building actual hot boxes and raised beds, there is no reason why these little guys can't start on their journey from the ground to the table.<br />
everyone has atleast one of these plastic crates lying around. inevidably, they get cracked, cause that is what plastic does. Don't throw them out yet. they make perfect little homes to start your seedlings in. and they still hold water. (if you have one with an actual hole, just get some duct tape. it won't be overly abused.) put them out in the sun and they create nice little terrariums, soaking in sunlight, creating their own moisture and gaining a second purpose in life.<br />
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The peat pots are home made as well. no need to spend loads of money on premade, store bought pots. Take an old tin can and some news paper and make your own.<br />
so simple. Cut the paper down to strips that are about 3 inches longer than the can. wrap the paper around the can, tucking the paper around the bottom of the can. burnish it a bit on a hard surface and slide the paper 'cup' off the can. carefully fold the top inwards about 1/2 inch and volia! fill with dirt and set into your crate. add about 2 inches of water and let the paper soak it up over night. the next morning~seed away!<br />
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meanwhile, deadlines are looming and I have plaster drying in the studio and am excited to get back in there. look for photos tomorrow. There are new works completed, a donation for a local art auction and more exciting things on the horizon!<br />
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Don't you just love how a few sunny days gets your motivation zooming!!<br />
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till then,<br />
live well.<br />
be happy.<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-90521337548849135552013-04-27T01:50:00.000-04:002013-04-29T10:27:14.136-04:00Getting into a rhythmWhen people originally heard of this hair brain idea, the first (and unanimous) response was..."how on earth are you going to make it through the winter?" followed by a variety of suggestions and warnings of cabin fever and how to survive it. The problem, though, is not the winter itself (if you are prepared). it is winter afterall. You head into it fully stocked with provisions, heat source, secondary heat source, back-up to secondary heat source, fuel for the generator in case all else fails and a large array of reading materials. You expect large amounts of snow, intense cold and long hours of solitude. It is winter afterall. And when the temperature isn't cold enough to take your breath away or instantly freeze solid the tears from your wind stung eyeballs- it is a glorious place to explore and wander, a sanctuary of mother nature's hardiest creations. No, it is not the winter that is the problem. In reality, and most obsurdly, it is the Spring that gives the most issue when trying not to go one hundred percent, over the edge, bat-shit crazy. <br />
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let me explain.<br />
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There are months of snow up to your arse, winds storming off the lake at a blistering speed and ice jams higher than you can reach. weeks of being entertained (and some what amused) by the scufflings of predator/prey survival dances outlined in snow. Days of walking to the end of the drive and standing, swallowed in the silence and in the knowing that, besides your one 'neighbor' there are thirty miles between you and any other human. all surreal and empowering experiences (which I strongly recommend be experienced) and yet, the spirit longs for a change. whether through nature or nurture, we look forward to the time of sunshine and growth. Long, warm days. Cool starry nights. warm earth and green leaves. It lingers in your mind, teasing you as if a dream you can almost remember.<br />
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one day, you wake up to the most glorious sunshine. Spring has sprung, the Equinox has passed, the ice shards have receded and little pokes of life start to emerge. The lake turns brighter blue, you hear the cry of a far off gull returning home and your wonderful warming world looks like this:<br />
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Yeah! it's Spring! it's Spring! you brave the still brisk morning air, crawl out of the cave fresh with coffee in hand to sit and revel in the splender of the day. Warry but hopeful.<br />
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The next day- oh can it be??!! more of the same! It must be true! Spring is here!sunshine and the twitter of birds. Breathe deep, take it all in. The crisp blast of oxygen hits the brain like a drug and you can't help yourself. you know your just setting yourself up, but, oh its so good. and Plans. you have Plans. lots and lots of plans. Plans that have been fostering in your mind these frigid months come spewing out like a volcano. Garden layouts, seed catalogs, deadlines to order chicks and keets and onion sets. Fences to repair and grounds to shore. winter storm damage to be repaired and cleaned up. Time to get out the equipment, check all the lines and gauges and fuel levels. Rake. where is the rake? oh, but life is grand. and happy. and sunny. and you have been set free unto the world again.<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em> YIPEEEeeee</em></strong></span>.<br />
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The next day, you leap from your bed fresh from the dream of thawing earth. Distracted by the thoughts of garden beds and baby goats. brush your teeth, brew the coffee, toast the bread. scratch that, you'll eat later- it's still early. Boots on, coat. work gloves. open door...... <span style="font-size: large;"><strong>BAM</strong></span><br />
your world now looks like this:<br />
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oh what a fickle mistress this mother nature is! Cursing the wind, slam the door, strip the clothes. Return to bed with covers securely tucked over your head. Avoid news and weather for three days. Start process over again. <br />
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And so it goes. Hope and disappointment. Sun ladened mornings and harsh, icing nights. an entire month. and then the next. month. Those beautiful months the rest of the world knows as Spring, we just simply now refer to as. ugh.<br />
<br />
So here we are at the end of April and it seems that the farm is starting to get into a rhythm. The weather has held for one week. and by held, i mean to say that we have had no snow. atleast none that has reached the ground and has had the nerve to stay. Loads of rain- but then that is always a good thing. <br />
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and yesterday, in a moment of defiance, I donned my winter get-up, masked my face, grabbed the keys and scooted around the Point. I may have froze my arse off, but I think mother nature has gotten the point. I will not go quietly.<br />
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and I was rewarded for my efforts with this beauty.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">another defiant creation. did you know, that when the willow warms with the spring, its new tendrils are flamed in the most delightful yellow? The willow is fast becoming a favorite in my love affair with trees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">till then,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">live well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">be happy.</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-20579426561991638022013-03-13T07:30:00.000-04:002013-03-13T07:30:00.677-04:00so i went out to the market the other day...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">the</span> market is some thirty-five miles away, and there is always loads of things to distract you along the way. One of the farms raises, what my son and i affectionately call "boo goats"- <em>(you know those miniature love bugs that if you run up behind them and startle them they fall over faint?)</em> and then looking for the longhorns that hide near the tree lines in the outer pastures (i know, longhorns.. right?). This time of year there are always new additions to the surrounding pastures and beasts venturing out searching for new grass. but when I saw this critter, there was literally a locking of breaks. screaching of tires and gaping of mouths. </div>
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isn't she <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>magnificient</em></strong></span>? i love the soft expression in her eyes~ i just knew santa left his sleigh pullers to vacation in the north country!</div>
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i am assuming, of course, that it is a she, as her companion was very interested in her, uhm, that is to say, er, her backside. (o.0) <em>hey, this is farm life! </em></div>
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so, evidentally, the prudent owner of this magnificence, chose to safe harbour her and her companions during the hight of hunting season and now leave them to have the run of the entire place. <em>freedom!</em></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">now</span>, as a side note of a funny story regarding some of the "hunters" up here, and for those that don't believe one could not identify the rack on that head vs. a deer. </div>
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not to long ago, there was a hunter that killed (wait for it).....<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>a cow</em></strong></span>. lets all keep in mind that this was inthe middle of winter (no pesky underbrush to veil his view) and broad day light. now his defense was, that he thought this creature to be.... a bear. thats right. a bear. a big, clumsy black and white bear hanging out with a dozen other big, clumsy black and white bears in the middle of a pasture eating hay. cause thats what bears do.</div>
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live well.</div>
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love each other.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-27555589996807141552013-03-12T07:00:00.000-04:002013-03-12T07:00:16.979-04:00rainy days are good for...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3I_1gxEmacM/UT6KYxuTXrI/AAAAAAAAJ9s/5JsZvGOBFNo/s1600/P1200664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" psa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3I_1gxEmacM/UT6KYxuTXrI/AAAAAAAAJ9s/5JsZvGOBFNo/s320/P1200664.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
while snow is still expected this coming week, the next few days are offering nothing but rain. I have always found it curious that at the first sign of a sunny day- the windows fly open and everything just begs to be cleaned and tidy. Kitchen floors scrubbed, windows polished, floors vacuumed and tables cleared. but i digress. that was yesterday.<br />
Today it rains. and rainy days are good for sleeping in and hot cups of tea. fresh baked bread to warm the lower rooms (and the tummy!), long naps under big fluffy down comforters, movies and endless hours of painting.<br />
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time to finish up on new spring offerings.<br />
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and then a few more paintings.<br />
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while I do look forward to sunny days and the plotting of the garden, i think for now it's nap time.<br />
stay dry.<br />
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live well.<br />
love each other.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-20440121436232802762013-03-11T07:30:00.000-04:002013-03-11T22:33:25.692-04:00reality is just crazy (but mostly fun)so the plan was simple. build up the number of songbirds that frequent the feeder. start at first frost; make daily attention, frequent feeds, mix up the seeds. sounds good.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">right? </span><br />
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it actually worked like a <span style="font-size: x-large;">charm.</span> sightings where made of junkos, chickadees, cardinals in pairs, titmouse, red-eyed vireo, blue jays (nasty little buggers), boreal chickadee, wrens, warblers, finches and ravens and dozens more. they all showed up. and while I am still waiting for that elusive indigo bunting, i am quite pleased with the turn out. sort of.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">you see</span>...when you live in the middle of the wilderness, you actually have no control over what shows up in your back yard, at your feeder; or for that matter <span style="font-size: x-large;">on, around & under</span> your feeder. <br />
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Sure, it was expected that the cats would show up below the feeder, leaving their sneaking prints as evidence in the nights snowfall; even the bobcats and the wolves and the coydogs were expected. this is winter after all. food is scarce. the deer and the bunnies, the squirrels and the mice come to nibble up the fallen seed and the bread crumbs. and where the prey go- so go the predators. no big deal. expected. that is why the feeders are away from the house. what i didn't expect were the turkeys. <br />
okay- so you all are saying...duh! i fully appreciate that. what i mean is, I did not expect the shear <span style="font-size: large;">NUMBER</span> of turkeys that showed up. what started as 3 or 4, within days turned into a <span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong>full rafter</strong></span>!! on a good day (she says with maniacal laughter) that means about thirty. on every other day it means no less than fifty-seven. <strong><em><span style="font-size: x-large;">fifty-seven</span></em></strong>. now. if you need to know anything about turkeys (more than the fact that they are yummy with cranberries and gravy) they are destructive birds - especially in large groups. there is nothing that gets in the way of their feeding. I have decided that, in fact, they would be a very good as an ecofriendly stump removal system as well as a remarkably efficient de-thatching program.<br />
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so now this is my morning: <br />
envision if you will the dawn breaking on a secluded farm. the first sun rays break through the tree line and the fields burst into a golden amber hue. A slight breeze. the chatter of songbirds fill the air.<br />
hidden in the shadows, peaking from her lair in the farmhouse there appears to be an escape mental patient clad only in a night shift, a sock monkey hat and green wellies ~ with hair flying and screaming 'TEE TEE TEE TEE' at the top of her lungs, she flings open the porch door, wielding two metal garbage can lids crashing together in symphony of pure chaos. panic. fear. <span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>FLIGHT</em></strong></span>! the entire rafter takes flight in a fury of wings. the air filled with the disturbance of flight and the calls of terror. Breathless, the mental patient watches with satisfaction the clearing of her realm and turns back to the sanctuary of the farmhouse, thinking how fortunate it is that neighbors are few and far between. <em>wait</em>. stop. turn <strong><em>slowly</em></strong> to the left.<br />
<em><strong><span style="font-size: large;">are you kidding me????</span></strong></em><br />
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well, at least I have to give him props for his originality, failure to follow the crowd and ability to complete the task at hand, even under extreme duress. he comes back every day, refuses to be scared away- even when the firecrackers are lit off. he sticks it out. i have had no choice but to name him. meet <span style="font-size: large;">Jackamo</span>. <br />
{sigh}<br />
such an interesting and spectacular place this is.<br />
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live well.<br />
love each other.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-20396376515553848772013-03-03T07:00:00.000-05:002013-03-03T07:00:02.786-05:00sunday obsessions<div align="left" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
if you follow my pinterest pages you know i am an avid reader. some may call me an obsessive reader. the only television that i feel is worth watching these days is <em>the big bang theory</em> (which is on while i cook dinner), <em>downton abbey</em> (which actually is an obsession) and the occasional CBC broadcast. so i read. a lot. </div>
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even consuming that vast of a number (@ 11/month), it is rare that i come across a series that is so well written that it leaves you with a constant struggle between devouring every word as fast as possible because you can't get enough of it and putting it down because you know if you continue at such a rate it will be over to soon. </div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Outlander-20th-Anniversary-Diana-Gabaldon/dp/0440423201/ref=sr_il_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1362119489&sr=1-1&keywords=outlander" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDyezxl6fDg/UTBLokC7yAI/AAAAAAAAJ7k/FkY7Gr6FTl4/s320/51H6JYEgs1L__AA160_.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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i have found this struggle with the <u>outlander</u> series. Diana Gabaldon is a genius. I tripped upon her when i read <u>the scottish prisoner</u>, which I found out later is actually the 8th or 9th book in the <u>outlander</u> series. it was fabulous. so fabulous i started researching her work and discovered the entire series, and thanks to my favorite librarian, i am just ending the 2nd of the series, <u>dragonfly in amber</u>. </div>
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in all fairness, i must set a disclaimer here- that i am in fact in love with all things Scot. (there is truth to the scot's having the saying "swish, swagger, swoon" when it comes to the effect a man in a kilt has on the ladies.) from the highlands to the outer hebrides; let me hear a good scottish brrr and i am undone. </div>
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that being said-</div>
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what Gabaldon has accomplished in this series is to take you straight to the years leading to the Rising of '45 and back again. the intrigue of the Paris court of Charles Stuart, the warring clans of Scotland and the heartbreaking end of the Highlanders on culloden moor. A masterful storyteller-you can hear the crunch of the heather and the swish of the tartans, feel the burn of the whiskey and smell the sweet earth of the bogs.</div>
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If you have even the slightest interest in historical novels, great scottish men of honor or are just looking for an entertaining and intelligent work to pass the cold winter nights- you owe it to yourself to lock on to this fabulous series. </div>
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atleast that is my opinion.</div>
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now, if you will excuse me- chapter 38 awaits!</div>
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live well.</div>
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love each other.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7I/7vAtm8F4pGk/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7I/7vAtm8F4pGk/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-34434579724098218402013-03-02T07:00:00.000-05:002013-03-02T07:00:07.273-05:00Winter Visitors!!<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Look</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">who has come to spend the winter with us!</span></div>
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They have found themselves a 'crack' in the ice and seem to be having a grand time of it.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZd0Xk3PSc4/UTBD1DSQQSI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/NYnnOpd8CzA/s1600/P1200566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TZd0Xk3PSc4/UTBD1DSQQSI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/NYnnOpd8CzA/s400/P1200566.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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i just can't help but think how <strong><em>cold</em></strong> that water must be!</div>
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brrrr.</div>
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live well.</div>
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love each other.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7I/7vAtm8F4pGk/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7I/7vAtm8F4pGk/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-32881331796665679712013-03-01T00:56:00.000-05:002013-03-01T00:56:04.314-05:00unpacking. or not.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8UgAPlSrtKo/UTA5oBAnoKI/AAAAAAAAJ6c/wwjRsM54MZk/s1600/lakeSeason.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8UgAPlSrtKo/UTA5oBAnoKI/AAAAAAAAJ6c/wwjRsM54MZk/s400/lakeSeason.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">i believe</span> it is going to take the next 20 years to unpack everything. so after watching the change of two seasons, i have decided to take things a box at a time, and just spend the next several months rooting and trying to remember where things are. i am not quite embracing this new philosophy. that is to say that while my A.D.D. is loving this new idea- the obsessive compulsive side of my nature is throwing quite a tantrum. full on stomping tantrum to be precise. The shear volume of the studio itself has led to this madness (we are going to ignore the house and the attic and the garage for the moment). It is a good thing the need to create (and, let us be honest, to add coin to the coffers) outweighs the OCD and sends it sniveling to it's room. in the basement. to hide behind the furnace.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Besides... </span><span style="font-size: small;">look around. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKBK8kE60TM/UTA8wByALpI/AAAAAAAAJ6s/_ksTkusLOcU/s1600/P1200031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AKBK8kE60TM/UTA8wByALpI/AAAAAAAAJ6s/_ksTkusLOcU/s400/P1200031.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Its <span style="font-size: x-large;">snowing!!</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">there are places to explore, things to discover and everything is so beautiful when it is topped with a bit of white. everything is more defined. clearer. </span><span style="font-size: large;">quieter.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oUfVGyBRH-A/UTA-CMcDEFI/AAAAAAAAJ64/RJZvki-hBAg/s1600/P1200501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oUfVGyBRH-A/UTA-CMcDEFI/AAAAAAAAJ64/RJZvki-hBAg/s400/P1200501.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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it is a time when you whisper to the birds for fear of disturbing the silence.</div>
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live well. </div>
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love each other.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7E/mRs1f8760qo/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gsa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3Q14V_3AyE/UTBBy85Xa0I/AAAAAAAAJ7E/mRs1f8760qo/s1600/tj_sig5.bmp" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-52993509957476837832012-01-19T14:36:00.000-05:002012-01-19T14:36:50.746-05:00a lesson in patience; a warm memory on a cold winter day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zPMD8bG33Y4/TxhmN9DpJtI/AAAAAAAAJaI/d8NVumFTn50/s1600/kidsonbeach.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" nfa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zPMD8bG33Y4/TxhmN9DpJtI/AAAAAAAAJaI/d8NVumFTn50/s320/kidsonbeach.png" width="320" /></a></div>it started way back (waaaaaay back) when i was a little girl, just old enough to go poking around beaches and picking up bits of this and that and whatever rolled up upon the shores. bottle caps and drift wood, unidentifiable blobs of rust and shards of glass tumbled and rolled to gem like perfection; all stuffed deep into my pockets like bits of buried treasure. fists full of rocks and pockets full of sand- i was the renegade sweet pea indiana jones. unlike the fabled indiana, however, i had an elusive treasure. a treasure so simple, yet obviously so plentiful i could not understand why it continued to evade me. i found it had become an obsession- one that has lasted over 30 years. every nook and cranny, every possible stolen second ("oh, i'll be right back, just gonna have a peak") new york, new jersey, through the carolinas, delaware, maryland, hundreds of miles of florida coastline -and that does not include the hundreds of hours logged <em>under</em> the water. yes, that's right.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84F0BOwE9Jc/TxhfkUG-e5I/AAAAAAAAJaA/cCM_XuxqMl0/s1600/51007_307.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" nfa="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-84F0BOwE9Jc/TxhfkUG-e5I/AAAAAAAAJaA/cCM_XuxqMl0/s320/51007_307.png" width="320" /></a></div> i have been searching for a shell for over thirty years. but not just <em>any</em> shell-oh no. i wanted a perfect non-clam shell. the ones with the points and the swirls and ridges and peaks, oh yes. a <strong><em>real</em></strong> shell. now. let us not dwell on the fact that, in all of my childhood innocence, i was searching for this shell for the first ten years in (<em>sigh</em>) fresh water inland lakes- that is not important. (silly, yes. important- no) i would let nothing deter me. year after year, visit after visit, i would wake up at the crack of dawn and take to the beaches- mission at hand. imagine my joy, when i finally reached the age of taking those 3 blocks from my great aunts house to the atlantic ocean...by myself. wonder of wonder- joy of joy- no distractions, no interruptions. just endless hours and miles of beaches to comb and search and pilfer. and yet, nothing. and though patience was never one of my greatest virtues, i refused to let disappointment take hold- knowing that <em>one day</em>....<br />
<br />
flash forward to this one year. this one day. or, i should say this one night. this one fateful night in october. A storm was brewing off the atlantic coast of florida- later to be termed, oh so cleverly by the weather people as the *great storm with no name* of 2011. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SqfX6Ctwqic/Txho3EKFoMI/AAAAAAAAJaQ/S-eRVxGXNn4/s1600/lookoutbeach.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="107" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SqfX6Ctwqic/Txho3EKFoMI/AAAAAAAAJaQ/S-eRVxGXNn4/s320/lookoutbeach.png" width="320" /></a></div>I should mention at this point that my son, now 19, has inherited the 'call of the sea' from his mother (inherited from her father, and his father and so on)- drawn by the waves and the vastness of it all; its sad song of longing forever whispering in his ear. With a storm on the rise there is no other place you would have found him, other than the darkening shores with his feet in the sand and his eyes on the horizon. that is, no other place until he came running to the house, breathless, to grab my hand and sprint back to the beaches. <br />
<br />
carefully we made our way back across the dunes, the sand stinging at our legs and i could see the the waves violently crashing at the shores- the mother in me hesitated as i surveyed our surroundings, wondering if this was in fact a really good idea. but, my son, still invincible, pulled me forward, and pointed. I followed his gaze down the shore line as he yelled above the wild ocean's call..."mom, it's time you found what you've been looking for!" twinkling in the moonlight, there it was... <br />
a perfect whelk with a left twist.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">now, i would like to say that i dropped to my knees over come with tears of joy- a quest consuming 3/4 of my life- finally realized. but you see,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">he had friends...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cMO2wM9uc0k/TxhZIKfKYsI/AAAAAAAAJZ4/nEmsgPL2Crs/s1600/P1160468.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nfa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cMO2wM9uc0k/TxhZIKfKYsI/AAAAAAAAJZ4/nEmsgPL2Crs/s320/P1160468.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
whelks and turkey wings; cowries and coquinas; little slipper shells, jingle shells and fighting conchs. they were all present and accounted for. the ocean offering them up like jewels- we picked for an hour, careful to toss the live critters back to the water-<br />
were it not for the lightening strikes warning us to take heed, we would have been there all night.<br />
The next morning we took our stroll past piles of palm fronds and storm debris down to the dunes but the ocean had taken back the last of her gifts (and most of the beach as well). I guess she figured that offering up 30 years worth of searching in one night was enough, and i couldn't have agreed more. <br />
so i suppose the lesson i have learned is this. when the time is right, the universe will give you what you have been searching for. when the time is right : for the universe <em>and</em> you. all of those years of searching; my son running to find me to share in his treasure trove, to spend time with him digging about a beach, in the dark with the wild winds and the full moon. those moments are fleeting for a parent, if they come at all. yes, i would have to say the universe had it right in waiting. i don't think i would have appreciated it so fully any other way. <br />
<br />
live well. <br />
love each other. <br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85727/wadsworthnollstudio/529e516a73862e0270b66de559f2f78a.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-68408071432687296822012-01-18T00:51:00.000-05:002012-01-18T00:51:33.420-05:00log off today- stand against censorship!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="393" kba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sPGnazwsWiE/TxZM-vbxNWI/AAAAAAAAJZI/98kXX1DjRlw/s640/strike-paper.jpg" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sopastrike.com/">http://www.sopastrike.com/</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Today, we are striking against <a href="http://fightforthefuture.org/pipa" target="_blank">censorship.</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Join the largest online protest in history: </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">tell </span><a href="http://act.fightforthefuture.org/page/s/sopa-strike-modal" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Congress</span></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"> to <span style="background-color: #cc0000;">stop</span> the </span><a href="http://fightforthefuture.org/pipa"><span style="font-size: x-large;">internet censorship bills, SOPA & PIPA</span></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"> now!</span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>go to your studio, read a book, take a breath,</em></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>count your blessing.</em></span> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: x-large;">live well</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;">& love each other.</span></em> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><em>we will see you tomorrow.</em></span> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85727/wadsworthnollstudio/529e516a73862e0270b66de559f2f78a.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-29392764233535383842011-12-23T10:52:00.000-05:002011-12-23T10:52:36.943-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-op-DLxbXkpE/TvSjiVgh19I/AAAAAAAAJYw/NqNT4MyGQ8s/s1600/winter-trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-op-DLxbXkpE/TvSjiVgh19I/AAAAAAAAJYw/NqNT4MyGQ8s/s640/winter-trees.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><strong><em>~wishing you a wonderful holiday season~ </em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">after an insane Summer and even crazier Autumn, it's time to slow down a bit and spend some quality time with friends and family! the studio will be back on line with updates</div><div style="text-align: center;">after the new year. See you then!</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">live well.</div><div align="left">love each other.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85727/wadsworthnollstudio/529e516a73862e0270b66de559f2f78a.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3316468252032962509.post-32511697916656633002011-11-02T01:56:00.000-04:002011-11-02T01:56:04.071-04:00on summer travels and things that caught my eye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zpb6EIHkSSA/TrC8oEXJ0MI/AAAAAAAAJQY/-9rDZI9Jdn0/s1600/P1160718.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zpb6EIHkSSA/TrC8oEXJ0MI/AAAAAAAAJQY/-9rDZI9Jdn0/s400/P1160718.png" width="400" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div style="text-align: center;">I always rather enjoy the travels of summer, or should i say the drives of summer as I rarely fly to my destinations domestically- i guess you can say i am a child of the *road trip*- a few snacks, a rucksack, a camera and a map and i am good to go. travel by plane and you miss the richness of the american road and all it has to offer. you just need to get off the highway now and again to make sure you catch it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3L5UgTF122E/TrC9xcKKD4I/AAAAAAAAJQg/2GHB2mHq-Xc/s1600/P1160710.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3L5UgTF122E/TrC9xcKKD4I/AAAAAAAAJQg/2GHB2mHq-Xc/s400/P1160710.png" width="400" /></a></div><div align="center">this summer the direction was south. the starting point; where new york meets canada. the finish line was the treasure coast. 1,380 miles, 8 states, 4 weeks and a whole lot of coffee. <em>(thank god for </em><a href="http://www.starbucks.com/" target="_blank"><em>starbucks</em></a><em> venti quad mochas. how would i function?)</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xA83spDklj8/TrC_3KhGisI/AAAAAAAAJQo/SG9X1e7QDig/s1600/P1160742.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xA83spDklj8/TrC_3KhGisI/AAAAAAAAJQo/SG9X1e7QDig/s400/P1160742.png" width="400" /></a></div><div align="center">the coastal route has the best architecture. and once you get into the deep south- it's as if</div><div align="center">you stepped back in time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oxy3Tg3KgAY/TrDAhAaHQgI/AAAAAAAAJQw/J4vobUGYCcg/s1600/P1160720.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Oxy3Tg3KgAY/TrDAhAaHQgI/AAAAAAAAJQw/J4vobUGYCcg/s400/P1160720.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">can you just imagine what the inside of this old theatre looks like? i silently hope they</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">have restored it to its original grandeur as i pass by. that would be lovely.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AaMJcuTK4Wg/TrDBLMZPb1I/AAAAAAAAJQ4/oPdjeUblrwc/s1600/P1160753.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AaMJcuTK4Wg/TrDBLMZPb1I/AAAAAAAAJQ4/oPdjeUblrwc/s400/P1160753.png" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bob's your uncle. Fannie's your aunt. Life is good. enough said.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wKku-eHRejs/TrDDFnFWRwI/AAAAAAAAJRI/Xy9rGj_PiGQ/s1600/P1160388.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wKku-eHRejs/TrDDFnFWRwI/AAAAAAAAJRI/Xy9rGj_PiGQ/s400/P1160388.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">while i always enjoy the journey- the finish line is well met and there</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">is still work to be done. and so we move on to Halloween!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Welcome to the Spirits in Sanford!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sp9uydqb1tw/TrDDiT1q2XI/AAAAAAAAJRQ/kMgpI1wUlUs/s1600/009_%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sp9uydqb1tw/TrDDiT1q2XI/AAAAAAAAJRQ/kMgpI1wUlUs/s400/009_%25282%2529.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Did i mention that the women at the <a href="http://www.jtfolkart.com/" target="_blank">Jeanine Taylor Folk Art Gallery</a> have a way</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">with entertaining? would you have ever thought of a prosciutto brain skull. very cool.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kw4I3d2F9pw/TrDFBIF8sEI/AAAAAAAAJRY/700M5ym8g-Q/s1600/012_%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kw4I3d2F9pw/TrDFBIF8sEI/AAAAAAAAJRY/700M5ym8g-Q/s400/012_%25282%2529.png" width="400" /></a></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(me being goofy, again, in front of my doll display. )</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6MXkGWREFLQ/TrDI5SgAf2I/AAAAAAAAJRg/tt_PRmU5Lak/s1600/018_%25282%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6MXkGWREFLQ/TrDI5SgAf2I/AAAAAAAAJRg/tt_PRmU5Lak/s320/018_%25282%2529.png" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">after years of seeing their work via everywhere, this was my first show with the ever-so-charming <a href="http://www.hohohalloween.com/hohohalloween/Home.html" target="_blank">Jorge de Rojas</a> and the quite adorable (i can call him adorable 'cause he's the one in the stripey tights and buckle shoes!) <a href="http://www.dollsbyallenwcunningham.com/" target="_blank">Allen Cunningham</a>. Both have hearts of gold and a talent unique as they are. it certainly was a pleasure to hob with them for a while.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e9a-1dH30O4/TrDR-KJi9PI/AAAAAAAAJRo/8D9oeu1E1QE/s1600/il_570xN_280842986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e9a-1dH30O4/TrDR-KJi9PI/AAAAAAAAJRo/8D9oeu1E1QE/s400/il_570xN_280842986.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the new steampunk zombie ornaments were unleased at Spirits, and i am thrilled to say they were very well received. while they have just about sold out, there are a few that you can purchase <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/Whisperings13?section_id=6913579" target="_blank">here</a> . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And after all of that excitement, the miles on the road, the intense southern heat <em>(yes, 82 degrees is INTENSE in October for a northern girl!)</em>, concerts on the warf and barefoot midnight strolls in the surf- i reach the mountains again...</div><div align="center" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Looking forward to the slight chill in the autumn air, candle-lit pumpkins, crunching leaves beneath my feet; the wonder that is the season between summer and winter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l8s6s9NkLd4/TrDYOvXcRfI/AAAAAAAAJR4/SLG-p-tTSo8/s1600/P1160960.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l8s6s9NkLd4/TrDYOvXcRfI/AAAAAAAAJR4/SLG-p-tTSo8/s320/P1160960.png" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">let's just say mother nature had other plans.</div><div align="left" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">♥*¨)¸.·´¸.·*´¨live well. </div><div style="text-align: left;">¸.·´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*love each other.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/85727/wadsworthnollstudio/529e516a73862e0270b66de559f2f78a.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0