Aug 27, 2017

Memories and Old Pink Shirts


When I work in my yard, I wear his old pink button down shirt--so faded and worn it is almost transparent. Stained with sweat and that southern red clay, it's actually pretty darned grungy.
But I'll wear it until it's worn through and still then, I'll tuck it away in my bottom dresser drawer and in all honesty, probably still wear it once in a while.
I work and think of him. Of his amazing skill as a gardener. Of his knack for knowing what plants look best together, when to trim them, of knowing when a plant has served its purpose and it is time to replace it with something new.  I wish I had that gift.  While I don't have his natural talent, I do have the wealth of knowledge he has passed on to me and I feel so lucky for that--but I still always wish he was here to guide me.

I think of him sitting up on the hill in the early morning with a cup of coffee, gently misting the plants with water for hours.  Enjoying the bird song, the quiet and the act of caring for the land.
I feel like when I am out tending to my little piece of earth and I'm doing my best to care for it--to make it beautiful--I honor him and all he has taught me.
On Saturday mornings after I've trimmed and pruned and weeded and planted and I sit down with a cup of coffee--hose in hand and gently mist these beautiful, flowering, fruit giving, living things, wearing this faded pink shirt, I remember my dad and the sting of loss even after all these years is soothed by these gentle memories.






Jul 21, 2017

Not even close





I feel so grateful when I realize I've noticed the beauty that surrounds me.  The sky the other night was beyond gorgeous.  The clouds looked particularly fluffy and lit from within.  
I tried to capture the beauty, but did not even come close.  I wanted to post them anyway just as a little reminder to myself to keep my eyes and my heart open. I grieve the times I haven't taken in my surroundings in all my rushing around. 
These photos look so flat compared to what my eyes drank in the other evening~but when I look at them, I can still see that wondrous sight.
I feel like I'm always running, trying to fit in one more thing.  When I take a moment to stop, take a breath and open my eyes, I'm always so dazzled by what I see, hear and feel.
I hope I never stop being awed by God's artistry.

Jan 23, 2017

A menagerie of sorts




Wood, glass, bone, ceramic,copper and leather.
See more here




Wood, Glass, Brass
See more here





Wood, Ceramic, Resin, Jasper, Brass, Glass
See more here


Jan 20, 2017

New Work






                      



                       

                     

Jan 11, 2017

Feeling Wintry


Once I typed that title, I had to look up to see if that was how you actually spell "wintry".
It is, but the definition surprised me and I have to say, I disagree.
win·try
ˈwint(ə)rē/
adjective
  1. characteristic of winter, especially in feeling or looking very cold and bleak.

    "a wintry landscape"

Bleak?  Not for me.  I love the starkness of winter.  I love how it makes it easier to see the birds in the trees.
I love how the other day, I was able to spot a black squirrel (!!) at the edge of those "bleak" woods.
I love the change from the breathtaking colors of fall and the lushness of summer.





 I love sitting in my cozy studio and peering out at the chilly day.  Thinking about taking a bit of a break and getting out there to walk with the dogs in that briskness.






















The shop has now been updated with all these wintry creations.  : )