Simple leaves

Aren't these beautiful?  They are composed of the simplest leaves, artfully arranged, then sewn to the page, as you can see in the last panel.  Why don't I do that?  What a reminder of the beauty all around us we do not see clearly enough to appreciate!

Long time, no see

Well, time flies.  It has been more than a month since I posted.  I am working on a piece for a gallery show called View from Above, View from Below.  Or that is, I should be working on a piece for this gallery show.  I have the idea, I have a sketch, but I haven't started yet.  My first step would be making a tree; not so hard to do.  I am hoping to have it done in the next several days.

I made a new journal cover.  I inset a wooden mini casement window which open to reveal - ta da!  - whatever image I put behind it.  Perhaps a woman sitting at a window?  We'll see.

This summer I have been to brooks, found many stones with holes, convoluted shapes, and fascinating grotesqueries, and even made necklaces out of some of them.  I got to Doylestown to see the art on loan from the Uffizzi Museum in Florence, which I remember dimly from my childhood.  I finally finished my Spring book/journal . . . But somehow, this has been a slightly gray summer.

Right now, there is a lot going on in my life.  One of my two best friends had a small stroke after surgery, impacting the peripheral vision in her left eye.  Her daughters, who live in Seattle, panicked and strong-armed her into moving into assisted living in Seattle just one and a half days after her release from the hospital.  No time to say goodbye to the house she lived in for 40 years, or her friends, or her town, or her life.  And for what?  The loss of some peripheral vision?  She was in such a vulnerable condition, and they literally forced her into it.  She has been there about a week and a half, and is miserable, and told one of her daughters, from whom she has taken a lot of guff and for whom she has done a great deal, and the daughter basically said, "No way are we letting you go back to Princeton."  Letting her?  But my friend is still very psychologically shaken, and said to me "I guess I'll just have to make the best of it."  Her house is still there, most of her clothes, books, and belongings are still there, all of her furniture except one chair a friend took and can return is still there, and my friend doesn't need assisted living - so just why shouldn't she come home?

Last Friday, one of my mother's best friends would have died if I had not come to visit her.  It was very frightening, and reminded me all the more of the fragility of life and the constant change and unpredictability all around.

And I have given notice at the school where I teach art that I am not returning for the Fall term.

So much change.  I feel quite unsteady, and even vulnerable.  I believe good comes out of everything, although we may not, with our limited capacities, be able to recognize it; so I believe good will come out of all this as well, but it doesn't mean that it is easy.

Speaking of songs, how about . . . . .?

"Friendship, friendship, just the perfect blendship . . . "

I can hear Ethel Merman's braying in my ears as I think of this classic song.  Her charm has always eluded me.  Why is she so heralded when her voice was awful:  abrasive, brassy, nasal?

 However, the song is funny and warm-hearted, and hits on an essential truth. Friendship is good for what ails you.

Thanks, pals!  You know who you are.  Probably.  Sometimes we don't know the difference we make in other people's lives,

The Power of Song - Here's to you, Reb Shlomo!

For the past couple of weeks I have had Chassidishe nigunim swirling around in my head.  It all started with reading tehillim (psalms), which I love to do.  I keep on meaning to memorize more of them, but haven't gotten around to it.  The ones I do know by heart, I love to be able to recite to myself when the moment calls for it.

At any rate, when I was reading psalms, I came across the phrase "Essa eynai el heharim"  "I lift up my eyes to the hills," and the melody I knew from college days jumped into my mouth and I started singing.  What a pathway to heaven!

Once I remembered "Essa eynai," I started to recall other songs:  "Pischu li sha'arei tzedek,"  "Am Yisroel Chai," "Romemu Hashem" . . .  Why couldn't some of these be incorporated into a Taize-style service? These are all songs by Shlomo Carlebach, a charismatic neo-Chassidic troubator who, starting in the late sixties, I believe, started touring college campuses with his music and his message of connection to G-d.  I met him when I was at Brandeis, and spent quite a bit of time with him.  His loving warmth was like a balm.  (There were reports later in his life that were very serious, but that was not my experience.)

At any rate, I am grateful to get those joyous nigunim back into my life.  There is a place for solemnity, but we shouldn't forget about just plain, flat-out joy,  and Reb Shlomo's music is one way to experience it.

A blast from the past

This morning my brother e-mailed me a drawing I made when I was 17, quite some time ago!  I had forgotten about it, but the minute I saw it, I remembered it and remembered all the circumstances surrounding my drawing it.

Birthday surprise

I came home from work today quite tired and somewhat dispirited.  I pulled into the driveway, grabbed my various bags, and decided to head over to the front of the house to pick up my Town Topics newspaper, delivered on Wednesdays.  When I got to the front door, I stopped dead in my tracks.  There was a beautiful bunch of flowers and a box of Lindt chocolates.  I knew at once they were fro m Twinerik, aka the Mystery Chocolatier.  My eyes welled up with tears of emotion at his remembering my birthday, and marking it in this way.

The most important part of the birthday present I discovered once I got inside, however; a card from my friend Twinerik with the most incredibly positive message one could imagine.  At that point, the tears spilled over, I was so moved.

Last year Twinerik saved my birthday; he made it again this year.  Thanks, Twinerik.

Posh, passionate Peonies!

This bouquet of peonies from *************** is so beautiful, I can't stop wondering at its lushness.  It is incredibly beautiful.