LOST: one hand to warm

In winter, in the park where I walk, it's not uncommon to see a lost mitten or glove spiked on a tree branch close to the pathway. Someone, somewhere is just reaching into his pocket muttering "Dang, where IS that other mitten?"

Most of the lost gloves are the cheapie drugstore kind- I have multiple pairs of these myself. But some are unique and colorful, sure to be missed. And then, there are the obviously hand-knit and exquisite variety, created with yarns that you almost want to lick they are so beautiful. When one of these ends up in the informal woodland lost and found, you can bet everyone that goes by roots for the owner to re-discover their lost piece of wearable, functional, warm and cozy art.

Tell-tail tracks: BIRD

I am bird on a winter's afternoon.

I hop lightly, leaving foot prints like stitchery in the snow.

My fluffed-out feathers keep me warm as I seek out lunch.

Once the sun goes down, I sit tight and slumber in the evergreens.

Others are with me in the tree limbs- we join dreams of the distant spring.

Board book art now starting

I've been working on a new board book for the Lutheran publishing house in Minneapolis, Augsburg Fortress. It's a baptism book, with a nice visual connection to the symbols of that service; water, candle light, community, family. I'm just finishing up revisions and awaiting an okay from the editor. It's a smaller, shorter book, compared to my others- just 7 spreads- but I managed to get a bird on every page! Here's a sketch of one of my favorite spreads. Lovely text by writer Anne Ylvisaker. Deadline for all art is in late February, so the marathon begins soon. Scratchboard blades are sharpened. Slow and steady. Slow and steady.

Tell-tail tracks: MOUSE

I'm Mouse on a winter's eve.
Tiny bursts of energy vault me one leap after another through the powdery snow.
My tail leaves a line that threads my efforts together.
I work my way back home.
I burrow down into my nest in the soft, fallen tree limb.
Content with my small seed dinner, I am glad
Tonight, no owl shadow crossed my path.

New Year

Ring out the old,
ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells,
across the snow:
The year is going,
let him go;
Ring out the false,
ring in the true.

A few lines from Tennyson to start 2011 off with- I heard them on a Christmas day radio program and was inspired by the words (and the hoare frost we received that morning) to think of how our old year wishes and hopes give way and evolve into new ones. Looking forward to spending time on these blog pages sharing and creating.

Peace.

Eastside Artist Show- this week!

Always a good show- lots of made from the heart art! I have new cards and small framed pieces and new baby onesies and, of course, books!

Effigy Mounds

We recently got in a late autumn hike at the Effigy Mounds National Monument in north-eastern Iowa. I've wanted to visit for 17 years and the timing was right last Sunday. This 2,000 acre site sits right on the Mississippi, where river and delta seem as wide as the world. Early American Indians incorporated mound-building into their culture for almost 2000 years. Thousands have been lost to history, but this particular area features 31. The earthen mounds rise up from the woodland floor, some conical, some linear in shape, like dots and dashes. Some shaped like bears or birds. Many were used for burial, created one earth-filled basket at a time by a community of long ago Iowans.

As we made our way up the medium grade to the mounds, only the creaking of hickories, red oaks and basswood could be heard. That and the occasional call of a red-headed woodpecker. A carpet of leaves, golden brown, had fallen evenly on the ground. The entire woodland was dressed in a mellow light. The mounds themselves stood out from soft grassy areas. Beyond them, spectacular drops from the limestone ridges to the river valley below forced your mind to take in this sacred space.

I've been reading about reverence to nature lately, and how one practices it in small and big ways. You can't help but feel reverent in a place like this. I can't wait to see the mounds again in the other seasons. Go visit if you can.