animal power

 I keep my eyes peeled at all times and a camera in my back pocket. I never know when my image bank will come in handy. I just finished a piece for the 2013 Lunar Calendar, illustrating a poem by Sarah Fuhro that mentions a heron. I found this shot, recently taken during our trip to London, at the Serpentine in Hyde Park. What a handsome fellow.

And here's a sighting on Peaks Island just last week:

I made this drawing, using a bit of collage, and incorporating a feather found on the beach.

Another bit of paper moon found it's way into a card made for my friend, Susan, who makes an appearance in Seven Days of Daisy (on Saturday, of course!)

This little pink turtle came from one of my illustrations in Nest, Nook & Cranny.

Susan spends the winter in Florida, right where loggerhead turtles come ashore to lay eggs. I rely on her for my wisdom about turtles. She sent this photo of turtle prints left on the beach.

She let me know April was a good month for this spread in A Warmer World:

And look who I met on a walk on my island last week!

When I have a rare sighting like this, I wonder. And look at Medicine Cards to see if there's some animal power needing my attention.

According to that book, turtles are the oldest symbol of Mother Earth, and the message is: honor your creative source, and be grounded.

The heron, on the other hand, is about self-reflection, reflecting your spirit's inner goal.

Susan celebrated her birthday last night with a bonfire in her yard, beneath a teepee made from a fallen birch.

Sparks flew up towards the stars, with wishes for good health, grounding, and finding that inner goal.

May the animal powers be with us all, if we notice.

love that dirty water

I left some of my heart in Boston years ago. It was my formative post-college city for 8 amazing years.

I did the above illustration eons ago, but it still captures my vibe for Kenmore Square. See the moon?
I recently connected with Nancy F Passmore, esteemed publisher of Luna Press, to which I have contributed for 30 years. We roamed about the MFA for three languid hours, catching up under the lights.

 I have Buddha on the brain, for a current project. Plenty of exquisite places to pause for meditation.

We made our way through the maze of galleries to see Seeking Shambhala,
an exhibit that contrasts old and new. Delighted to find the work of Gonkar Gyatso, who made this divine halo by secular means.

Check out the crafty detail, you sticker lovers.

There's a whole statue covered this way, in the center of all the Tibetan paintings acquired over a hundred years ago.

All the Asian art made me swoon. I did this drawing of Saraswati last year. Should have
visited the Asian wing for proper immersion.

Understood the neon wisdom here.

We also visited Paper Zoo, where I fell in love with a very graphic turtle.

Something about the symmetry of turtles, their slow but sure magnitude, is a fantastic drawing challenge. I drew this turtle for A Warmer World.

I was also drawn to Beauty as Duty, a startling lesson in British war-time fashion. Who knew that austerity measures meant patriotic scarves?

I noticed during my recent trip to London that the Brits do love their flag. Who doesn't? My favorite souvenirs show the same colors.

This Getty image is spooky. I try to imagine the prospect of daily life with gas masks, but what leaps to mind instead is "are you my mummy?" from Dr. Who.

Meandering back to the exit, I discovered a room of magical instruments. What kind of song could be played with this?

I can hear it. Can you? Enough to make this mermaid surface in my pastel.

I was quite moved by the sculptures flanking the Fenway entrance.

The enormous baby heads beckon me to be like new, to see everything for the first time.
I headed back to Kenmore Square, washed by rain and memory, feeling young.

Boston, you bring me back every time.

moon energy

With this week's stretch of rain, there will be no full moon viewing tonight. I may not see it, but I can still feel it.

I've just done this for next year's Lunar Calendar. It will run in black and white, so I used
a limited palette for the original drawing, titled "Full Sap Moon."

Events keep coming at a steady clip, and I need all the sap to rise up and keep me grounded. New things are sprouting!

forces of nature

The tsunami in Japan and it's aftermath remain unfathomable. I walk around my little island and say prayers to the trees, for recovery, for renewal. The sump pump burbles incessantly in the basement, as the snow melt runs down to the sea.

I'm happy to have more studio time, for illustrations for a book project. This week, oddly, everything was under water.  First, a spread about coral. This is a detail.

Next, four species of fish, affected by warmer temps: trout, salmon, bass, and carp. This is a detail of the bass and carp, plus their tags for labeling.

Then I drew a loggerhead turtle, who is laying eggs that may be washed away by rising sea levels.

Over the weekend, the sun came out. Finally! A walk in the woods always brings a new perspective.
Spotted this fallen birch covered with scalloped lichen.

Returning to my studio, I drew a marmot, coming out of hibernation high in the mountains.
Groundhog day? This is a detail of a two page spread.

By Saturday evening, I was ready for a little lunacy. Headed backshore for the advertised "super moon." As a regular contributor to the Lunar Calendar for over 20 years, I generally don't miss a full moonrise on the back shore. They are a cosmic sight to behold. Thanks to my calendar, which lists the moon rise and set times for every day of 13 lunar cycles, I know when to show up. You don't want to miss the moment it emerges from the ocean's horizon, as hot as a neon sign.

It was a brisk and blustery moment, one shared with a community of lunatics. It gets us roused for the next round of reality.

On Sunday, it was time to stand an egg on end, a feat of the spring equinox. Just before 7:30 PM, we tried balancing an egg on it's end. It worked with one, but only momentarily with another.
Something about equilibrium, balance, and natural mysteries.

Even though snow was in the forecast today, I was buoyed by spring. Drew another piece for the book project, an arctic fox. Something sinister looms in the air, but animals adapt. We hope.

 

Tomorrow I'll be back in the Hive at MECA. 

My show of pastels from Ice Harbor Mittens comes down at Knit Wit this Thursday. Hope you saw it!

 The pink in the shop goes lovely with my work, if I do say so myself.