Posted: September 2, 2012 in painting adventures, Women
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“The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live………that’s what myths do. They happen all the time.” ― Ursula LeGuin, Dancing at the Edge of the World

“Upstairs” Page 6, the Sketchbook Project 2013

Late at night and early in the morning, the coyotes pass though the property. I awake with the cacophony of sounds, the yips, yaps, cat-like cries, and haunting howls as they travel venture into the night or travel back to their dens.  You can tell the difference between the adults and the pups. It is no wonder they became legend and stories of Native Americans. Every dog within 5 miles of the sound is like my Charlie, uttering low growls mixed with apprehension and respect. Such a primal sound, otherworldly, it makes me feel like an uninvited guest intruding on a private affair.

There is always an essence of excitement traveling with the sounds, an essence of potential danger, adventure, a palatable feeling hanging for a moment in the air, then gone. Replaced with absolute silence.

How does this relate to my art? Well, it doesn’t in any practical way, but it does instill a vibration in my core that lingers and possibly inspires.

The lack of responses to my job applications is terribly disheartening. Six months now, I am beginning to view myself as part of a Leonard Cohen verse “……. Lost my job forever, counted with the dead.”  So I have volunteered at a Family Services Center in Albuquerque. Doing secretarial work a couple of days a week for the greater good gives me a sense of value. But the core of me still yearns for something else. Something that may just be nothing more than an illusion…like another old song by Peggy Lee, “… that all there is?”

Shipped my painting “Houses of Moon Mesa” off to the east coast for the exhibit at the Sylvia Walk & Kim Po Gallery in downtown NYC.  Am learning not to expect too much, so if it sells, well that will be a glorious moment! Otherwise it is just another wonderful show addition to my resume.

Temporarily lost the ability to draw even a straight line, so I have put the fish on a hiatus. Have 13 now, would like to do a couple more; I have until January and then pick which ones will be used in the exhibit. So I turn my attention to my contribution to the Sketchbook Project 2013 for the ArtHouse co-op Art Library in New York. (You can see the pages as they are added at

I am working with little bits of homemade paper (sample page above) creating vignettes from the attic in my mind.

Balloons are flying high over the skies of Albuquerque already, so it is officially fall. There is a 30-degree shift in temperature from early morning to 10am; everything in the garden is slowing down getting ready.  Hard to believe we could have snow of the ground in 8 weeks.

Where does all the energy expended go? Is there a great vacuum out there sucking it all up and dispersing it to others who need it more?  I think occasionally it would be good to join the pack, to able to howl, to yip and hunt, perhaps that is why werewolves are such a successful myth.






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