Last night on the way to class I noticed the autumn leaves blowing everywhere; swirling around the corners of the downtown buildings and golden yellow against the foggy, rainy grey streets. I had to put on my parka to cross the street for the parking meter - the wind was very cool and blowing hard. It feels like October. I'm catching up with myself after a wonderful, filled-to-the-brim summer.
I look a photo of our classroom to share with you. We meet in an old brick warehouse in the industrial area of NW Portland. I love the room with its high ceilings and smell of art supplies. I love old, old buildings with wood floors and outdated wiring. I feel at home here. I am a student and my classes have so often met in rooms like this.
Last night we learned techniques for mixing dry pigments with water and then incorporating that into the wax. After Jeff's demonstration we retired to our individual stations to ponder our slabs of plywood. Knitted brows. Holy cow, what is art? What am I doing? I don't know the answer to that. I only know that the materials fill my heart with joy and wonder. When the world is insane, art mends my heart, over and over. Music, stories, words and color.
The rains are here so we've left the remaining grapes on the vines for the birds. We have a city of birds that live with us and we feel a responsibility for them. They need to eat too. (Just leave the figs alone a while longer, please?)
Japanese Anemones, gaily bobbing in the wind. A little battered but still a welcome sight.
Our wonderful, warty squash supply. Lined up in a dry place where their stems will dry off for winter storage. Like a little army of turbaned gnomes.
Do you like roasted chilis on your eggs, your tostadas, your enchiladas and in your tamales? Mmmm, me too. John develops his own strains from seeds he's saved over the years. Muy, muy sabroso!
After we've enjoyed the radicchio, we enjoy the flowers of the radicchio. Did you know they were this pretty?
This is a variety of brown tomato that John tried this year. Tomatillos in the background. Both necessities at our house.
Do you think potatoes are pretty? I do. These are yellow finns and they taste like buttuh! I love buttuh.
Volunteer hearty cyclamen discovered among the artichokes. Notice how the new blossoms spiral up out of the undergrowth. When I'm out in the garden, smelling the soil, the rain, the vegetation, I know I am a good animal and that my home is the earth. I am home. My heart stills and I am content.