Category: Thoughts

Things I’m learning in Artworld.

More on Mendocino

There is a popular book among artists called The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It recommends that artists take field trips to gather new inspiration. So, I took a field trip to Mendocino. I believe that we absorb much more visually that we realize, and although I might not have immediate plans to paint scenes of the North Coast (no outlet for selling them – gotta be practical here!), the beauty, the colors, something I saw in one of the galleries (or the yarn shop), something I saw or thought of while on my 9-1/2 hour drive could be the seed of a new idea. My friend is as obsessed with seaglass as I am with yarn, and since she lives in the Seattle area, we don’t get to spend much time together. I learned of Glass Beach in Ft. Bragg, and we decided to meet there. Although it was a stormy weekend, it was ideal. The best time to find seaglass is after a storm, and we were blessed with a sunny Saturday for our foraging.

The waves were awe inspiring.

This just cracks me up – Seattle girl soaking up Vitamin D on a California beach in January, BAREFOOT in a place called “Glass Beach” and with Starbuck’s coffee in her hand!

We had shoes on for this part.

It was definitely what John Eldredge refers to as a “rainbow day”. http://blog.ransomedheart.com/john/

California Center

I took a road trip over the weekend. On Monday, I drove NINE AND ONE HALF hours to get home. (It was worth it.) I might tell you about the trip in another blog entry, but this entry is to tell you about a curious thing. On Highway 99, north of Fresno but south of Madera, in the median is something that marks the center of California. It is a palm tree on the south side and a pine tree on the north! Someone showed me this a few years ago and then I couldn’t find it again. (My husband thought I just dreamed it.) Yesterday I stopped at a Starbuck’s in Chowchilla (I was dying of boredom by that time) and the server was chatty and helpful and told me about this! She brought it up, not me! Isn’t that cool?? here is the very blurry photo I took while driving (I think the big rig on my six was a little irritated at me – I’m sorry, Mr. Peterbilt)

The pine isn’t very large and is behind the palm because we are heading north.

California center

Wild cats in my workshop

You may have discerned that I have a real weakness for cats. Back in 1987, there were some wild cats living underneath Thrifty Drug Store in downtown Visalia. I shared a parking lot with these cats and fell in love with one of the little ones. A man named George fed them regularly and helped me catch the long-haired one with Siamese coloring. Turns out this is a breed of cat called “American Ragdoll”. Of course I understand that my little cat was just a lucky accident of random breeding, but she most definitely had the characteristics of the Ragdoll breed. We had Fritzi for 13 years, and she was definitely the cat love of my life. After we lost her, I began looking for a baby Fritz. We had Wilson (aka Buster), Scout and Prudence, and then Zeke and Amos. The only survivor in this attempt so far is Zeke. He is definitely NOT of the American Ragdoll breed, although he does have the coloring and the size. Last fall, my friend from the Sequoia RV Ranch http://www.sequoiarvranch.com/ told me of a litter of cats underneath one of their storage mobile homes. When she described them, I knew I was a goner. Michael told me to just go get all three, and now for about 2 months we have had a mom (Cashmere) and her 2 little boy cats living in the workshop where I paint.

One of those little guys still won’t let us touch him. Look at him:

He has no tail and he hoppity-runs like a Manx. So far we have called him Hoppy, Cassidy, Butch, Manx, Dummy, and currently, Steely Dan. (He steals around? His eyes are steely blue?) How can one name a cat who won’t respond to any overtures in a positive manner? I could call him Scairdy or Chicken Little, but I like names with a little dignity for the cats in my life. By the way, Cashmere is reminding me an awful lot of my sweet Fritzi! Her son O’Reilly is just bold and fresh, and reminds me a bit of Buster. This guy? I dunno, I just dunno. Sigh.

American Ragdoll

The mind of one artist, final chapter

After I got to see the Palace of Fine Arts, I pulled out the map to pick a route back to the Dr.’s office. It felt far away, and it was around noon. Knowing I can walk a mile in 15 minutes, I figured I could get there by 1 p.m., and if not, I could call in to report my location. I chose a route that seemed direct but also took me back through the Presidio. As I walked, I kept revising the route to stay off the city streets for as long as possible. It was killing me to not be able to take photos of every beautiful site I passed, but the entire reason I was in San Francisco was to help D, not to build my photo library! (Besides, who in Three Rivers will want paintings of San Francisco??) Now this next part may seem like a bizarre digression, but stay with me. You may or may not know that I spent all of July 2007 in China. While there, I took photos of amusing signs, such as this one:

So there I was, striding for all I was worth, and suddenly there was a sign that made me laugh out loud and stop for one last photo:

‘Scuse me? Where I come from, we call them “speed bumps”. I got back to the Dr.’s office in plenty of time (it must have been my stride), saw that I walked 10 miles that morning, sat and knitted for another 1-1/2 hour, and finally D was ready to go. It was a long drive home, but D is recovering nicely and we had a great 2 days together. I can’t imagine just sitting in the Dr.’s office watching movies in San Francisco, and I don’t think it is being an artist that got me out. However, I do know way too many people would have been afraid to go exploring on their own and am deeply grateful that I am not one of that unhappy little club!

The mind of one artist, part 5

As I walked through Crissy Field, I blew past many many interesting buildings, and I stifled all the questions that were burning a hole in my head. I’ve been told that I ask too many questions; this is stupid, of course, because how else am I supposed to learn stuff? I know, the internet, but that wasn’t and still isn’t always available. Besides, inquiring minds like to know. If people don’t ask questions, they just bumble through life in ignorance. (Take that, you who think I ask too many questions!) Anyway, I was blowing past all these buildings because I could see a dome off in the distance. It reminded me of the one building I remember from some college class – something by the architect Bernard Maybeck that I thought was the most beautiful structure I had ever seen in my life. Despite the distance, I decided to go there and see it or I would always have regrets. I knew I might have to run the final 1 or 2 miles back to the Dr.’s office to fetch D after her surgery, but I HAD to see that building. See why?

It is called the Palace of Fine Arts, but I don’t get where the fine arts go because it doesn’t appear to have any walls! There wasn’t enough time to wander through it, so I had to be content with seeing it across the reflecting pool. It is even more fabulous that I remembered from that class lo those many years ago. And, when I got home I looked it up on the internet and was thrilled to see it was designed by Bernard Maybeck – why did I remember that?? Okay, so you don’t leave my site in overwhelmed awe, I will finish this story tomorrow!

bernard maybeck palace of fine arts

The mind of one artist, part 4

When I reached the Marin end of the bridge, my Garmin showed 4 miles. The bridge is a mile long – did you know that?? I sure didn’t! I was so jazzed up that I called my walking friend K to tell her where I was. She is more familiar with SF than I am, so she sent me to Crissy Field. Not sure what this was, but now it is a HUGE grassy area by the bay with lots of interesting old buildings and great views. On my way there I had to photograph Fort Point, a wonderful landmark to visit if you are interested in sites from The War Between The States (it wasn’t a “civil” war because no wars are civil AND because the south wasn’t trying to overthrow the United States, but I digress.)

The arch over Ft. Point would be an impressive bridge all by itself, don’t you think? Here is Crissy Field. I was beginning to worry a bit about time, so I didn’t stop for many photos there. I did stop for a latte and a map, which helped immensely in my wonderings and wanderings. It would have been even more help if I had my reading glasses, but my pockets were full enough with the camera and cell phone (aren’t I a tech-geek?)

Oh my! Tomorrow is Christmas, so I will have to continue this later.

The mind of one artist, part 3

It was 3 miles to the Golden Gate Bridge from the Dr.’s office where D was undergoing surgery. I was having a blast, and sort of feeling guilty while she was in there suffering. Knowing that sitting in the office would not have helped her in any way kept me out there enjoying the day, in spite of my guilt. I decided to cross the bridge on foot, because as you know, beautiful bridges hold great fascination for me. It is set up very well to accommodate tourists. There were people from lots of different countries taking photos, walking and riding their bikes over the bridge. On the bridge it was very noisy from traffic, and there was a cold wind blowing across it, but it was such a nice morning! Here is how it looked:

That one little building on the Marin County side really caught my fancy. I’m dying to know what it is! Can anyone tell me?

Golden Gate Bridge

The mind of one artist, part 2

D told me how to get to the Presidio from the Dr.’s office, so I set out in that direction. It wasn’t far, and I got to pass Diane Feinstein’s house, although I wasn’t sure which one it is. They were all rather posh and impressive to this country girl! When I reached the Presidio, there were multiple sign posts directing me here and there; the only place I recognized was the Golden Gate Bridge, so that is where I headed. The trails looked like this:

After a couple of miles, the signs went away, and I just started aiming in the direction of the bridge. I came to this view and was seriously sidetracked for a moment or 6:

Then, I remembered that I had been at the beach in October and no matter how strong the pull is to the beach (and it is strong, oh so very strong) the bridge had to take precedence. I pressed on in the direction of the bridge and was finally rewarded with this view:

To be continued. . .

The mind of one artist

That one artist would be me, but you probably knew that. Here is a story. My dear friend, whom I shall call D, needed a driver to bring her home from some surgery in San Francisco. We have been friends since I was in 3rd grade and she was in 1st and don’t get much time together, so when she mentioned her need, I was all over it! We took my car (hers seems to have a permanent disability of no rearview mirror, and although it doesn’t bother her, I’m not having any part of that!) and went the day ahead of time. (She brought one of those talking lady gizmos that tells you where to go – it was fun, and my speedometer isn’t as far off as I thought!) We had a crab dinner on Fisherman’s Wharf and enjoyed a saxophone player beneath a giant Christmas tree at Pier 39. The next day, I delivered her at 8 a.m. to the place of surgery which had a parking garage. (Parking is a Big Deal in the city!) Here is the view from the garage:

The nice people in the dr.’s office offered me movies to watch while I waited and said that D should be ready to go by 1:00. Watch movies? Are you nuts?? I’m in San Francisco, for Pete’s Sake! (who is Pete, anyway?) San Francisco is incredibly beautiful, full of architectural and historical and semi-natural wonders, and you think I’m going to spend it sitting inside a doctor’s office? Obviously these folks don’t know me. I had my walking shoes on and my Garmin Forerunner on my wrist, so instead of staying in the relative safety of the known, I elected to go exploring. (I’m sure you are so very surprised by my adventuresome spirit, right?) This story could go on for several entries. . . I think I’ll just continue it in another posting!

Lots of Walking

Perhaps you have puzzled over the reason why I walk so much (or perhaps not. . .) I was training to walk the Lake Tahoe 1/2 Marathon, which happened on Sunday, September 27.

It was hot for Tahoe, and I was all jeezled up from finally arriving at the event after months and months of ground pounding. So, I made the mistake of running the first 2 miles. The second 2 miles were steep steep steep (they call it “Hell Hill”) so I just walked. Had great energy and strength, but couldn’t figure out why my feet hurt so much. By the time I reached the top, I knew I had major blisters, and it must have been the first 2 miles that caused them. I slowed my walk – they hurt. I sped up – they hurt. I jogged – they hurt. So, it seemed the best approach was to get it over with as fast as possible.

3 hours, 7 minutes after starting, I crossed the finish line. This was a great time for me. As I pounded out the miles on my sore feet, I kept repeating to myself, “Shoes off, feet in lake. Shoes off, feet in lake.”

My dear husband showed up to cheer me on for the last 1/2 mile and was surprised when I greeted him with, “Hi Honey! My dogs are barking!” He said “Walk as if you don’t hurt”, and that thought (along with “Shoes off, feet in the water”) pushed me to the finish.

I didn’t carry my camera with me because I knew it would slow me down AND I knew that the mid-day light wouldn’t be very nice for photos. So, here are a few photos from a previous visit to Tahoe.The day was bright and sunny like this. Walking across the sand to the lake was very difficult because of the pine needles!Within the last 2 miles I passed the beautiful Tallac estates (part of the National Forest Service). I said to myself, “Self, when I grow up, I want a house like one of these AND a car so I don’t have to walk 13.1 miles on blistered feet!”

1/2 marathon walking Lake Tahoe Marathon