A phone call from my sister warmed my heart this morning. All I've done so far is sip hot tea from a mug and watch the flocks of birds eating the seed we scattered all around for them. Finches, Blue and Stellar Jays, Alaskan Robins and Flickers; how entertaining. Even my soap opera was pre-empted for storm news.
Not a lot of snow but the streets are treacherous with ice. And the new persimmon tree John planted this spring is shivering and fragile looking.
Here is my desk with momentos from friends lovingly propped nearby so I can feel surrounded and comforted. And I do. I love the internet so much. This morning I "talked" to a friend in Australia and heard from friends closer by. We are connected and fortunate to feel it.
My journal is not even half full and already the pages are splaying out and one of the coptic stitches has broken. What to do? Rebind or tie it up with an old silk stocking?
She has much to say in the winter. Complaining, some of it. Also conjecture and memory and fantasy and dreams and just keeping busy. Drivel.
Isn't it interesting that our brains keep us out of trouble and allow us to survive while also working overtime the way they do? Even while sleeping my brain chugs along non-stop bringing me the most amazing adventures and naughtiness. I think I'll name my brain Shaharzade for all the stories it spins.
Hmmm, maybe waxing over pages in my journal is what's making the pages stick out the way they do. And that plaster. That can't be good.
These are the books I'm reading while I watch the birds, the snow, the wind and the computer.
Every once in awhile I shoot a random photo but my heart's not fully in it.
My friend William sent me a video this morning and in honor of all the street buskers with which I share a history and an affinity I pass it on to you. It is also a tribute to artists everywhere who brave poverty and discomfort to lift spirits. Go
here. xo
A phone call from my sister warmed my heart this morning. All I've done so far is sip hot tea from a mug and watch the flocks of birds eating the seed we scattered all around for them. Finches, Blue and Stellar Jays, Alaskan Robins and Flickers; how entertaining. Even my soap opera was pre-empted for storm news.
Not a lot of snow but the streets are treacherous with ice. And the new persimmon tree John planted this spring is shivering and fragile looking.
Here is my desk with momentos from friends lovingly propped nearby so I can feel surrounded and comforted. And I do. I love the internet so much. This morning I "talked" to a friend in Australia and heard from friends closer by. We are connected and fortunate to feel it.
My journal is not even half full and already the pages are splaying out and one of the coptic stitches has broken. What to do? Rebind or tie it up with an old silk stocking?
She has much to say in the winter. Complaining, some of it. Also conjecture and memory and fantasy and dreams and just keeping busy. Drivel.
Isn't it interesting that our brains keep us out of trouble and allow us to survive while also working overtime the way they do? Even while sleeping my brain chugs along non-stop bringing me the most amazing adventures and naughtiness. I think I'll name my brain Shaharzade for all the stories it spins.
Hmmm, maybe waxing over pages in my journal is what's making the pages stick out the way they do. And that plaster. That can't be good.
These are the books I'm reading while I watch the birds, the snow, the wind and the computer.
Every once in awhile I shoot a random photo but my heart's not fully in it.
My friend William sent me a video this morning and in honor of all the street buskers with which I share a history and an affinity I pass it on to you. It is also a tribute to artists everywhere who brave poverty and discomfort to lift spirits. Go here. xo
Judy, Judy, Judy,
ReplyDeleteWhat you have done for my day! Thank you so much for sharing the U-Tube piece. I have been looking for the right thank you for some folks who have just helped me through a difficult period of health problems. The perfect vehicle for intentions that my words can never convey fully enough.
Love your post. Also love the the journal page with the shorter haired blonde. Looks amazingly like a little girl I attended kindergarden with in 1955. I left reading circle to go to the bathroom and while stepping high and not watching where I was going, I accidently stepped on her nose. Boy did I get in trouble for that accident. Images that trigger memories, magic thing...the mind.
Thanks much, Chris in WA
the last pic really does it for me Judy - it has a bit of mystery to it...
ReplyDeletei'm sitting right here next to you while we read The Whistling Season together. freezing rain is pattering on the roof. here, let me get you a hot mug of salted caramel hot chocolate. after we warm up can we go out tromping after those stellar jays? i might throw a snowball at you.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing the Stand by Me video with us. OMGosh, I loved it. Thank you.
ReplyDeletei had goosebumps the whole time i was listening to the video you shared - they came in waves...so wonderful, thank you!!
ReplyDeletexo
Hmmm ... wonder why the videos are not showing up as such for me on my computer? This is annoying when everyone else seems to be enjoying them so. Ah, well, the photographs are good enough. I will imagine the videos. Love the pictures of your desk and the comments about "our brains." They are busy little fellers, aren't they?
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing the Stand By Me video - beautiful. I've passed it along to others. I'm enjoying our snow days (I'm in Beaverton) - no school so I get to play in the studio and pretend that I'm a real artist like you. *sigh*
ReplyDeletelulu (from your art biz class at art & soul)
what a great day. no soaps. remember in Portland, weather is the news. anyway, a good day to journal and look at birds and meet with friends. sang out loud. i forget how i love to sing when no one is listening.
ReplyDeletenamaste
Oh, I loved the post. I've been going through a shift in my art and life and you are helping to feed that. And then to end with such a wonderful video. I'm so glad you shared that link.
ReplyDeleteamanda
Amazing snow in Oregon...such beautiful shots you got without having your heart in it...
ReplyDeleteI am amazed too at how much your drawings of women in the journal look like you...younger yous, you now...amazing...Lovely book so full of art and life.
Tears in my eyes from the beauty in the looking and the feeling of it all.
ReplyDeleteWhat treasure you have and are.
And the buskers... how grand. They are Mummers' cousins, I just know it.
For these and so many other blessings and adventures, Scherazade, we thank you.
What a special post. So much to take in. The beauty of your journal and its pages, the winter weather photographs, your workspace...all very inspiring.
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing, your roses are finished and have beautiful hips, ours are in full bloom and bursting with life. You are looking out at the snow and we are sitting here with windows wide open to let in the cool breezes after a scorcher. We can 'talk' directly over the internet but live in two different worlds. Ain't life grand.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteJudy, Thank you for Stand by Me.. it so fit the reflective and global mood of the holidays and widened the
ReplyDeletevista after the solitude of being snowbound. Joan Tucker