dogdog drags babycat across the wood floors through the house with babycat’s head in his mouth. at first, when dogdog was new to the family, it really frightened us and we admonished dogga for dragging the cat around. but then we realized that it was a game. if dogdog wasn’t playing, babycat would slap at dogdog with his claw-paw and make the chase start. it mattered not who “won” the match, for there was no obvious winner. (although i must say that it appears that babycat is indeed the alpha in the house.) most important for the two of them was the chase. just having fun.
it’s the same with anticipation. i can clearly remember having great anticipation for something-or-other, relishing that feeling, the adrenalin rush, the quickening of heart, the excitement i could feel. when the actual Thing happened, it wasn’t nearly as delicious as what led up to it – the anticipation, the process, the chase to it. the Thing was almost anti-climactic, a sort of denouement of all the details getting there.
albums are kind of like that. the process of writing, practicing, the anticipation, the work, chasing the perfect recording. and then, the tying up of loose ends, the post-project letdown. as much as i wish i could, there is no way i can control what the ‘catch’ will be, whether or not the music will resonate with listeners, whether or not the album will do well in the market.
as an artist, it is all the magic in the middle that matters to me. the chase.
in pondering what to write about this piece, i took out the jacket for the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART. my first full-length album, released in 1995, an hour of my original solo piano compositions, i dedicated it to my big brother wayne who i had lost a few years prior, but whose presence i could feel as i worked on this project.
in the jacket notes, next to this piece IN TRANSITION, i wrote “many changes for many around me. changes give us time and impetus to sort through (and feel) the stuff of our lives – the transitional time.” that would explain the minor, a key that invokes going inside.
i guess i will have to defer back to that. it’s no different now than it was then. there are still “many changes for many around me”. i would have thought that things would feather out on the change seesaw, maybe leveling out a bit. but now, 23 years later from those moments of recording remotely on stage in an auditorium at northwestern university, i see that life continues to be fluid, change continues to happen, we still have to sort and feel and go with the flow, we are still learning, growing, changing, we are ever on that seesaw. still in transition.
we often walk at the end of the work day. we go inland to a lake trail and walk a couple times around the lake, somewhere around 6 miles or so in total. we mostly hike around the lake clockwise, which means that we are watching the sun come down across the lake at the beginning of our walk, a time when we are still processing the day and haven’t yet gotten immersed in the trail. sometimes we are so engrossed in talking or thinking-silence that we have to remind the other to appreciate…”look at that sunset,” one of us will say.
sometimes we will get up early and, with our coffee mugs, go sit on the rocks and watch the sun come up over lake michigan. every time we are witnesses to the beginning of a new day this way i think we should do that more often.
sunrise. sunset. it makes me think of the song from the musical fiddler on the roof. it’s truly a beautiful song, simple, sung with great heart. the passing of time. so fast. wendy wrote to say it was time to bring logan back to college – for his second year. i could so so feel how that felt, remembering times i had brought My Girl or My Boy back to college.
“Is this the little girl I carried? Is this the little boy at play? I don’t remember growing older When, did, they? When did she get to be a beauty? When did he grow to be so tall? Wasn’t it yesterday when they, were, small?
Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset Swiftly flow the days Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers Blossoming even as we gaze Sunrise, sunset, Sunrise, sunset Swiftly fly the years One season following another Laden with happiness and tears.”
(Sunrise, Sunset – by S. Harnick, J. Bock)
life somehow fits in between these sunrises and sunsets. and somehow, some days, we just seem to miss it. too many things to do, to worry about, to perseverate over, to check off lists. every time i vow to honor the sunrise and exhale with the sunset, somewhere in between i realize i forgot. i’ll try again tomorrow.
SUNRISE. SUNSET. a morsel from the painting A DAY AT THE BEACH
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
as i am writing this, The Girl just texted to say she was driving off the pass and that she and lumi-dog had finished their hike in the back-country. earlier she had texted (as is safe practice for all back-country activity) to let someone know both that she was going to be out of cell service, off the grid, in the high mountains on a hike and where she intended her hike to take her. she is a conscientious hiker and boarder and i can’t tell you how much i appreciate that. and so, early early this morning, i looked up the hike she was taking.
the #1 hike in the san juans (according to my trail app) it was taking her on a giant elevation gain and to a stunning lake, the color of which i couldn’t describe by the picture, and evidently was un-grasp-able even by the people reviewing the hike. this was a place incapable of being captured by even a crayola 64-box.
that is what i love about our world. countless places we couldn’t begin to capture with crayons. no matter how many we could get our hands on.
the places that take our breath away. the places that give us breath.
a number of years ago i planted a small seedling of lavender in my backyard garden over by the fence. i was wanting to tend this carefully and, eventually, be able to go outside and snip sprigs of lavender – for vases, for the pillows of visiting family or friends.
it was slowwww.
soon after, i found that the patch of black-eyed susans was entering the spot where the lavender was. black-eyed susans are beautiful and happy flowers, so i hesitated to do anything about this. i pulled the weeds in the garden and continued to hope for a flourishing lavender patch living side by side with what-would-be bright yellow blooms.
but then i talked to a friend. she told me that as diligent as i was about pulling the weeds, i also needed to pare back the black-eyed susans. she said the lavender needed space and air, its own dirt.
i followed her directions and carefully dug down to the roots of the black-eyed susans and transplanted them away from the lavender. i could almost feel the lavender breathe.
later, in the summer, with clippers in hand, i walked outside, over to the little garden by the fence, vase in hand, and, in the midst of a heavenly scent-cloud, snipped healthy sprigs of purple.
then i added this piece to the track line-up for the album RIGHT NOW.
one summer, (almost) every single day, i took The Girl and The Boy to the beach. not the beaches on lake michigan, for the water there is way too cold, but a beach that is inland in our town and is man-made. that was the summer-of-the-best-tan and the summer i loved packing and re-packing our beach bag, a small cooler with drinks and snacks and buckets and plasticware and shovels for building castles in the sand.
they were littler then and it was easy to keep them happy on the beach. when The Boy was reeeally little, he, like his dad, did not the feeling of sand in his toes. he preferred to stay on the blanket or the beach towel. but at this time in his life – the-summer-of-the-beach – he loved it. he played in the sand and the water as much as every child there, including his big sister and me.
looking at this morsel SANDCASTLE WITH ME from the painting SPOONS AND SANDCASTLES makes me want to go back. go back and do it again. repeat that summer. play in the water more. have more icepops from the refreshment stand. stay late until the sun was almost directly on the horizon. and make more sandcastles.
we were at costco. in the fruit and vegetable section. pondering just how many blueberries and strawberries we could eat in the next few days; costco’s quantities are not meant, necessarily, for two people. but we are berry-lovers, so it works for us. we were in the middle of deciding to get both the 57 pint container of blueberries and the 28 quart container of strawberries when i felt a presence. right next to me. close. like next to my face, only my face was turned away. i thought – is this a mystical visitation? is this a sign? i turned slowly. she was standing rightnexttome, her face inchesfrommine. i have never seen this person before. she spoke directly -and loudly- to me, “are the blueberries any good?” she asked. “it’s only me. will they stay good?” i tried to back up, but our cart was behind me and she moved forward as i moved back. i was trapped. i answered (you owe me, costco!) that they were the best berries and would last and last and that she should buy them. and then she was gone. good grief. what i wanted to say was, “get out of my space!!!”
i know you know what i mean. (insert eye-rolling emoji here.)
we have bought our share of throw pillows. different fabrics and patterns from target, from department stores, they have been at various price points. and they are great accent pieces on the couch or the wicker chair where we are hiding the wicker that babycat has torn off with the combination of a throw blanket and throw pillow (of course, if you see the chair from the back, it’s pretty clear what has happened there.)
recently, the newest design within reach catalog arrived. now, that is a great catalog. clean lines, a store (brick and mortar as well as catalog and online presence) that is dedicated to their designers and design services. so the “design” part of their name i agree with. it’s the “within reach” part that gets me. i flipped through the catalog, admiring the white space and the simple fonts, the brief snippet stories about their designers, and came to pages 50 and 51. six columns of throw pillows greeted me across the spread and a “save 15% during the living room sale.”
catalog page
the pillows ranged (retail price, without the sale) from $95 up to $295. at this point in our life, it’s not in our budget to spend even $95-15%=$80.75 on a throw pillow. yes, i grant you that there are people who absolutely can afford that. but i must say, that on the day i wouldn’t have to think twice about a $295 throw pillow, it would have to be hand-painted by our (potential) grandchild for me to buy it.
when i have been working on the designs for products that are inspired by david’s paintings, i have been aware of and have worried about the pricing. (that is something we think about a lot for those people who are interested in purchasing these designs and other products that are printed on demand – one at a time.) on the society6.com site, throw pillows range from $29.99-$44.99 for indoor pillows or outdoor pillows for your deck or patio. with their often 30% off sale, it brings that down to about $21-32. i mention all these specifics because those prices seem more “within reach” to me, and not mass-produced or mass-marketed through a large company. it is entirely possible to have the only pillow in the world with the design you have chosen. but, that is also the peril of many artists – the inability to reach the masses.
even with however cool it is to say that you own a design within reach throw pillow, i just want to say that each time i see one of the rendered pillows with the chosen david-painting-morsel on it, i have wanted to purchase it, put the pillow-painting on our couch and show others that beautiful art doesn’t just have to be on the wall.
and so, with the arrival of new catalogs as fall shopping approaches, i thought a pillow collage was in order – just in case you missed the pillows along the way. besides, if design within reach can do a throw-pillow-collage, so can i. 😉
reverse threading 