goose chase

Since I began this goose chase, 

one of the biggest earthquakes in history occurred in Chile, 

a tsunami didn't quite occur in Hawaii,

 and my 90-year-old parents were buried in snow 

 without power for 3 days.

Meanwhile, the collage clue was in Bonnie's post,

And the table has been in the labels.

End of story.

Whew!

last call

You'll be glad to hear this is the final clue. 

I'm putting it all out on the table.

This is your last shot.

Yo...Larkin!

I know some of you were expecting more clue from the clueless. I'm clueless because yesterday was Larkin's birthday, and even though the card I bought for her is sitting here on the table, I forgot to give it to the mailman. I'll mail it today  [:o\  but maybe she'll see this first. It'll still be late, but not as late as the USPS. 

HAPPY  (i'llnevertell) BIRTHDAY, LARKIN!

parts is parts

I know, I know...

but I just love looking at the parts.

My brain is a kaleidoscope.

guess again

This is not a raffle.

The price point has flat-lined. 

Guesses will cost you nothing. 

Don't everyone speak up at once.

guess

 Can you guess what this is?

There's a clue in Bonnie Luria's last post.

This is a way to see who's paying attention.

If you think you know, please speak up and send a comment.

Obviously, there will be no extra credit for subtlety.

watershed

Dreams of the desert can get you through a cold spell.

snowshine

It's been cloudy and snowing for four days and has been below freezing for at least that long. In all that time, the benign and beautiful snowfall hasn't accumulated any more than six fluffy inches. Right now it's mid-morning, the temps are hovering at 23 degrees and will stay there all day. I love this weather, and I walk the dog in it every day. But odds are I won't be able to talk Jala into a dogwalk later this afternoon. To her, plein air is tropical. So it's no surprise that this generous award is from her.

 

However, she says there are rules (argh, I am so not a rule person) and that the rules are: tell who gave you the award, jala jala jala(check), make their name a link on your post (check), put the award icon on your post (check), and list some artists you admire and their links. This is where it gets a little sticky. Would that mean I don't admire those I neglect to mention??? Besides, I don't know that many links, and as near as I can tell, most them, if not all, have already gotten this award and deservedly so. 

Frankly, I think anyone and everyone who can muster both regular blog posts and some art now and then, and remembers to be thankful at least once every single day deserves an award. Really. So why do I feel like I'm failing to link a chain letter? If I am, I abjectly apologize. Thanks to everyone who did follow the rules; I truly admire you all a lot.

P.S. Jala just called and allowed me to talk her into braving the elements. Just wait until she reads this. 

first thing

4x8 pastel

be my valentine

or I'll bite you on the beezer!

buffalo roundup

The buffalo in the previous post deserve a better explanation. Yes, Ted Turner, they're technically bison, but for the sake of romance, we call them buffalo. The herd pictured was "born" on the next ranch upriver. Right next to the owner's house there's a big, beautiful metal-working studio and a forge. In a normal year, the river runs over the road in at least three places on the way up to their place, and they have to drive through the water to make it up there. The whole setup is built right on the floodplain, a pretty good idea on land which, in a drought, can be parched so dry that the river (if you've ever had a leak, you know water never gives up) has been known to actually run underground. At least you always know it's there. Needless to say, a forge can be fairly dangerous up there, especially in the dry times.

We love these rusty beasts, love that they're rusty instead of feisty. To be fair, buffalo aren't really feisty (well okay, maybe a little spookable). It's just that they tend to go where they want to go when they want to go there. Fences be damned. It's not that they don't respect a neighbor's fence; they just never see it, let alone feel it, no matter how snarly and barbed it is. But hey, if you were carrying all those tons of ungulate, you probably wouldn't either.

 

jungian buffalo

Just the thought of "Jungian buffalo" could keep you up at night.

As I wrote that, the phone rang. One of our oldest friends had a stroke a couple of weeks ago and has been in the hospital ever since. I was told his relatives are coming to town today to unplug his ventilator. I had already said goodbye and hoped that this could happen soon.

Buffalo is the totem for prayer and abundance. It says you must be humble enough to ask for assistance and then be grateful for what you receive. I'll always be grateful for having known you, T.

studio

Here's a couple of photos of my studio. They don't show much of how it works, just the nice space that it is. All the sloppy sturm und drang happens out of sight down in the basement. Yes, I know how lucky I am.

over the top

The dogs thought it's about time they got to pick one.

They chose this 30 x 40 acrylic.

supper

Who's in there and what's for supper?

I've been accused of "obliquity" by more than a few. So, in case there's anyone out there, I'm adding that this pastel was done on a 5.5 x 8.5 piece of velour board. My goal was simple rectangles in primary-ish colors. I of course rediscovered for the umpteenth time that nothing is simple.

beach?

Don't ask; I have absolutely no idea.

the cove

Good news! The near-and-dear-to-us film, "The Cove" has been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Documentary. The Awards show will be aired on March 7th. Wish us (and especially the dolphins) luck!

dog park

I didn't know this swinging mutt personally, but I did know and love Max, a dear friend from here in the hood. They both prove there's more to life than just the old scratch and sniff.  

metamorphosis

Today, I lose my cocoon. The theory is, my right arm will magically transform from a pupa (though I much prefer "chrysalis") to a butterfly. I'll continue this later, after I see my pale and wrinkled newborn appendage emerge from the cloud of parched skin and plaster dust. Yuck. I just hope the boneman wears a respirator. Stay tuned...

Holy mackerel! What kind of la-de-da fantasy land was I living in yesterday (now it's Tues. the 26th) when I wrote that crap? Butterfly??? *Snort*  Not even an unholy mackerel. More like, holy geoduck! Pronounced "gooeyduck", they're those obscene giant clam necks which are sometimes eaten as sushi. Which goes to prove the Japanese will eat anything. 

Warning: I'm going to digress here now. I'd add "no offense", but I am so beyond offended by the Japanese wholesale slaughter of whales and dolphins. The following link refers to their criminal whaling and dolphin "harvest", and includes interviews with the the Sea Shepherd crew (though not the recent ramming of a Sea Shepherd protest boat by the Japanese whalers) and a preview of "The Cove". We're proud that "The Cove" won at Sundance and was chosen last week to be the first feature-length film on YouTube; the director lives here in Boulder, and my husband designed part of the hidden digital camera set-up. 

http://www.seashepherd.org/news-and-media/video-library.html

Well, if that's not enough to get over myself, I'll be doomed to keep my own company. I'd say I wouldn't wish that on a dog, but there are a lot of dogs who seem to like my company, even if it includes a lot of moaning and groaning and wicked limp wrists and weird been-under-a-rock-too-long skin. Way it is. In the meantime, I'll try to work my way back to my art, photographing it, and finally to posting it. Thanks for your patience; I hope it'll be worth it.  

the end is near

Remember the ubiquitous New Yorker cartoons showing the scraggle-bearded, be-sandaled gloomster carrying the sign which reads, "the end is near"? Well, I is he. Minus the scraggly beard, the sandals and the gloom. My blessed boneman is removing my cast this coming Monday! However, for now, due to residual limp-wristedness, I won't be able to play the violin. But as Groucho, eyebrows twitching and cigar twiddling, would ask, "But could she play the violin before?"

Please celebrate with me by enjoying the following YouTube:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nh7D2g5v-Sg

grand canyon morning

Melinda, this one's for you. Nice old picture from the plane to Hawaii, but I like your painting better.

blue hawaii

The reservations for Hawaii were for the day before yesterday. Keeping them was definitely not possible, but I'm not above regrets. To avoid wallowing, I spent the day with good friends. It didn't make me forget, but love gets you through. 

last lost canyon

Along the entire length of the eastern Front Range of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, there is only one remaining undeveloped river canyon without a paved road. One! The existing dirt road is little more than a wagon track wandering beneath giant cottonwood trees back and forth across the river, in and out of pastures, across rapids and under dark holes full of trout. The canyon remains untouched because all the people who own the land along the river have worked to keep it that way. It's taken a lot of quiet coalition meetings and loud lawyers. And it's taken faith, faith that conservation easements will hold and that water rights won't be sold.

On both sides of the Continental Divide here in Colorado, we know that snowmelt becomes lifeblood. We know our water will float Mississippi barges down to the Gulf and push the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, if only to get strangled by Hoover Dam and gambled away by Las Vegas until it eventually dries up somewhere out in a California lettuce field. Sadly, we also know it's only a matter of time before this last canyon and our river gets dammed up to support the flagrant development of Denver and its insane demand for water.

Meanwhile, multinational corporations are buying up as many sources of potable water as they can. If you squint, you'll see a tiny "Nestle" on almost all of the bottled water in the world. We'll probably run out of water before we run out of gas. Pay attention, folks; water is the new oil.

bugs

There's a bug in the blogosphere today. My blog has the dry heaves and double vision. And, like a bad child, it feverishly threw me out of its room. After 30 minutes of wheedling, cajoling, begging, then outright threatening, it still would not OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR RIGHT THIS MINUTE (no, I am not yelling, you little twit). So I called Google and tattled on it. I was told, no problem lady; just change your password.

You people have got to be kidding! I can't remember my own full name half the time, and you want me to CHANGE MY PASSWORD?!?!? Not to mention, I have a cast on clear up to my right armpit and have to type with my left index finger!!! Don't you understand that my left hand is connected to my right brain, where pretty pictures are stacked to the attic but there are NO English words, only Czechoslovakian ones, words that are all spelled with only c's and z's and v's??! Oh sure, I can make up a new password, but I couldn't remember it any more than you, in spite of all of your almighty gigabytes of Googleness, could.  

Would you say this to me even if you knew I'm an invalid??? Ha! I just bet you would, you behemoth breeder of bugs! Well, as that patron saint of everyman, Johnny Carson, would say...

"Cut off your Slauson!"

riding the dog

36 x 36 acrylic

It's driving me nuts not being able to take photos, even of the off-the-page pastels I do with my left hand. So, dipping into my iPhotos, here's a relatively recent painting. It's a sloppy reproduction, but hey, what's a one-armed bandit to do?