Avid readers may remember that last year at the Palo Alto show, I was setting up my booth only to discover I had inadvertently packed a gecko, which I then kept in a cup until I was able to release it in my yard, 10 hours drive to the south and in a completely different climate.
I almost did it again last weekend, this time managing to catch two of the three geckos that were hiding in the nooks and cranies of booth-wall bags and painting boxes to show how lucky they were to not be taken somewhere that they wouldn’t be able to live.
Two tame little geckos who almost had an unfortunate journey.
Oddly this was a journey that was destined to involve the transportation of another reptile. My other half Ken, who breeds bearded dragons and uromastyx, was in the process of having a uromastic shipped from San Diego until we realized I would be making the same journey in a lot less time. We coordinated with the seller of the lizard and he was willing to meet me at the show site, Liberty Station, at the end of the show. We did a quick transaction at the corner of the street and I packed up this little girl to bring her back to the desert on a four hour trip rather than a day at the hands of FedEx.
Little Miss ‘Liberty’ saying goodbye to her former owner.
If there’s a challenge for a sonnet, it’s when the power goes out and it’s soooooo quiet.
Silence can be the loudest sound of all –
the emptiness between the beats of heart,
the absence of now-frozen water’s fall
from rock to pool, in winter. When we start
and fail to stop and listen to each sound
that tells us so much if we just know how
to hear it. The when quiet comes around
we simply can breathe out, breathe in the now,
the peace, the solitude, the soundless bath
of spirit washing over a rattled mind
and so, refreshed turn back to our own path
with spaces between the stars still left to find.
Dark windless nights aspire to extol
the virtue of the silence of the soul.
Haven’t posted newer work in a while. This is one of a series of smaller paintings on panel that have needed to work on to replace sold work. (Darn, could use selling a few of the larger ones, I’m battling the balance between inspirations for larger pieces vs. storage space….)
#1398 Snowbirds. 9×12″ refractured watercolor and poetry on gallery-wrap panel. Poem written for and into painting is: Summer into fall we fly to our other home winter into spring
Mary started out as a friend of a friend on facebook and then took my Painting for Absolute Beginner’s class, then became a very close friend. Shortly after that class, a couple years ago, I helped her create a painting for a friend. I hadn’t realized that she had not had time since then to pick up the brushes. A lot of life had happened. A few weeks ago I went over to help guide her through another painting. This time she has a new home with a wonderful front porch. We have to paint out on the front porch because she has cats and I have allergies.
A little cramped on that table but we make it work.
Mary lives quite a way from me so we get our painting stints in sporadically and yesterday morning I was able to swing by for a couple hours before her grandson’s party and my reception for her to make progress on this sunset.
We weren’t able to finish yesterday but hope that we will do in the next session. She made good progress. Part of the challenge has been vision issues. Mary recently had major eye surgery. She can see colors better now, but the amount of light is difficult for her and towards the end as the sun came over, she had to resort to the shades.
Still needs a little work in the middle, and all the clouds at the bottom need to go in.