Image credit: Oglala Lakota artist Lana Grove, on Twitter (https://twitter.com/girlgeenius). Posted with permission.
Now all we need is to continue to speak the truth fearlessly, and we shall add to our number those who will turn the scale to the side of equal and full justice in all things. —Lucy Stone, suffragist, born 1818.
San Clemente is a sleepy little coastal community in Southern California– a surfer’s paradise made (in)famous in 1969 when then-President Richard Nixon purchased an exclusive property on an oceanfront bluff and dubbed it “The Western White House.” It’s a diverse community now, where McMansions stand adjacent to rambling cottages, and straight-laced folks share a peaceful co-existence with their more eccentric neighbors.
The beach alone is a draw for tourists. The quirky little enclaves call my name. That’s why I found myself driving down one of its charming little side streets last weekend, looking for an art exhibit that I’d only just recently heard about on Facebook. And suddenly, there it was: The Squirrel Project of Los Molinos. And hey, would you look at that? It even has its own hashtag!
#SCSQRL welcomes visitors to the art studio of Diana Donaldson and her husband, James Hill, at 122 Calle de los Molinos.
Meet the Squirrels of Los Molinos Street, perennial guests on the party scene in San Clemente. They’re gathered now for a Halloween mixer, replete with a cadaver on a surgical slab, black crows supervising the grisly operation, and a vexed squirrel who’s decided to take the future into his own hands. Here, a creative hodgepodge–the outpourings of artist Diana Donaldson’s head and heart. But each scene is stitched together with the others, thematically speaking, thanks to the collaborative efforts of her sister. Should it scare us, that these scenes are inspired by her work at a nearby hospital?
Squirrels?
Furry rodents-in-residents, running rampant in an art gallery?
A bit odd, you’re probably thinking. But then again, why not?
If you’re a creative sort, you know better than to question your own artistic muses. You know the risks that come of revealing their magic powers to someone else.
And still, I had to ask: “Why squirrels?”
Diana greeted my question with good humor, but she was careful in her answer. She bought her first squirrel mask in Austin, she said, roughly five years ago. It was an impulse buy, art for its own sake, but she’s since purchased several more. They speak to her, amuse her, inspire, and soothe her. As she listens to cable news–at once anguishing and angering, these days–Diana carves another fluffy-tailed rodent out of clay.
See the paint-spattered shirts, that sparkle in her eyes? Diana loves being an artist. She’s also a warm and engaging storyteller who enjoys leisurely conversations with scheduled guests and random passers-by.
In fact, she granted me an all-access, backstage pass to the studio space behind the diorama. Even better, she allowed me to film a quick tour for readers who might not be local.
Note the multimedia collection: a smattering of other artists’ works, intermixed with Diana and James’ creative endeavors. Note, too, the treasure trove of time-worn tools, art supplies and found objects, that fill the table space and more.
And squirrels, lots of squirrels…under foot, on pedestals, in her mind’s eye and under wraps.
“A lot of people don’t notice them when they pass by,” she once said about her beloved squirrels. “The people that do – they’re my tribe. They always get a kick out of it.”
Wow, it’s been more than a year since we started our backyard makeover! We began by replacing our thirsty lawn with drought tolerant, earth-friendly plants—envisioning, as we did, a haven for birds, bees and butterflies, and a sanctuary for us.
Salvia spires, cape fuchsia, lavender and roses…they’re sprawling across decomposed granite walkways now, perfuming the air as they reach for the skies.
Heaven must surely be a garden, or so they say. And by they, I mean me. Most of the time. Songbirds perch on the feeder, singing their little hearts out. Visual harmony, however, is still very much a work in progress.
In this next phase, I’ll expand my color palette—maybe add some splashes of yellow. I want also to rein in the random groupings, clustering whimsical pieces and grounding the airy (read: unruly) salvia with rocks.
How to accomplish all that? I hadn’t a clue.
That’s where Jan Johnsen’s latest book, THE SPIRIT OF STONE, comes into play. Have you read it? If not, go grab yourself a copy!
In seven, beautifully illustrated chapters, Johnsen offers new and/or freshly interpreted ways to incorporate stones into your outdoor living spaces. Quick confession: I’ve never really understood the notion of hoisting huge boulders into your yard, willy-nilly, or scattering white gravel around your succulents. It doesn’t look…well, natural. But after reading this book, I’ve come to realize that a few, well-chosen rocks will add dimension–maybe also a bit of sparkle–to my flowerbeds.
Courtesy Jan Johnsen, Spirit of Stone
There are important design considerations, of course. Johnsen walks you through the options. Rock gardens, cairns, stairs, stacking stones, accent pieces and Zen sculptures… she details the possibilities, and then shows you how to bring your favorite ideas to fruition.
I appreciated that Johnsen braided practical advice and deeper knowledge, and that she explored the ‘spiritual’ significance of rocks. Some people attach meaning to their beautiful colors, shapes, and textures. We might also see them as talismans of strength and endurance. As metaphors, they speak to us in ways that flowers cannot. As Antoine de Saint-Exupery said: “A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, being within him the image of a cathedral.”
Courtesy Jan Johnsen, Spirit of Stone
The Spirit of Stone is at once practical and spiritual, and it’s as beautiful as any coffee table book you’ll find. I’m keeping my copy handy, as I reimagine my garden landscape this spring.
And…
Because it ties in so nicely…
The Art Challenge prompt for April is Earth Day, so apropos!
Let your imagination flow like water over rocks, inspired by this global celebration of Mother Nature (with an emphasis on conservation). The rules are simple: 1) Drop a note in the comments for this entry, to let me know you’re interested. 2) Sketch, paint, make photos, embroider, knit, write a musical score, record yourself dancing…. any creative interpretation is welcome! 3) Display your work on your own blog, over Earth Day weekend (April 21-23). 4) Link it here, in the “gallery of participants” I’ll provide in an updated post.
Once upon a time–about a month ago–I spied this notice on my Facebook feed:
I fell hard and fast for that sweet little horse! It bore the markings of a child’s love–memories etched into the wood by its former owner. I suspected that my little friend Sara would love it, too.
Really quick, before Susie could change her mind, we hopped in my roadster and headed up to Once Upon A Storybook. We browsed the bookshelves, paid for our selections, and then ferried the horse toward greener pastures.
Now what?
We stopped for frozen yogurt and allowed our imaginations free rein. And that’s how we eventually decided we’d transform the humble little horse into a fanciful pony, beribboned and bedazzled and rarin’ to go.
I should probably mention here that Sara and I knew nothing about repurposing wooden toys, much less the finer points of rocking horses.
But we’re resourceful!
We asked questions at Michaels and called upon our craftier friends. I also collected tips from the Internet, all of which I pinned to a special Rocking Horse Pinterest board.
And then we got to work.
First we scuffed the yellowed varnish with sandpaper. Two shiny-white layers of spray paint later, I realized I’d made a mistake.
We wanted to suggest a textured history, infused with special memories. Glossy paint just wouldn’t do! So I roughed it up again, and then slicked on some random patches of acrylic, willy-nilly. When I sanded the horse one final time (using fine-grade sandpaper and a feathery light touch), the original wood stain came peeking through. It looks like it’s had a storied past, now…just as we’d imagined.
Sara chose a Palomino-colored yarn for the mane and tail. It’s soft and twisty, like loosened braids.
While those marble eyes were cute, they had definitely seen their heyday. So we searched high and low for something different–something that suggested a wide-eyed sense of wonderment. To the rescue: my friend Donna, who shipped us some google eyes and false lashes.
I bought rope-like trim for the bridle, and retrieved a pair of earrings from the dark recesses of my jewelry box. I affixed both with E6000 glue, held in place with gardening tape.
While the glue was drying, we clipped images from discarded picture books and decoupaged them to the seat.
Once upon a storybook…Come, take a magical ride!
Next we stapled the mane and tail into place, and beautified everything with ribbons and bows. (Many thanks to my friend Sheri, who showed me how to stitch the yarn into place. I pinned her diagram to my Pinterest page.)
Voilà, bigger, brighter eyes! And more bedazzling, just because.
Finis, once we’ve tame the mane and clip a few threads!
We buckled our pony into my roadster this morning…
ferried it up to Once Upon a Storybook, and put it through its paces. Pictured here: that happy reunion, the stuff of lasting memories.
This horse will enjoy a happily-ever-after life at Chez Shore, where kids of all ages can enjoy it. Perhaps it’ll also make an occasional appearance at Susie’s bookstore. So you know: We’re now scouring Craigslist and yard sales, in search of a rocking horse for Sara’s stable. She tells me she wants a dappled pony, purple and pink, and plans to decorate it with hearts and flowers. She also mentioned butterflies in passing, and fairies. But who knows, she’ll likely change her mind a million times, before all is said and done. That’s the cool thing about my adventures with Sara: The possibilities are endless, same as our friendship.
Once upon a time, a consortium of artisans (poets, musicians, artists, and the like) tried to translate this complex emotion into words. But as someone wise once said, the language of love has many dialects.
In honor of Valentine’s Day, our Art Challenge theme o’ the week is (cue the harp music) LOVE. And lucky me, I get to host it.
Here, an opportunity to translate your own thoughts into images, using your favorite art form(s) and media. I enjoy photography, so I’ll be working with my camera. But Art Challenges are for all-comers. Painting, sewing, drawing, cooking…express your creativity any way you like, so long as you share your finished work in pictures.
Let your imagination run free! Picture yourself and your beloved, for instance, doing something that sparks your inner passions. (Hint: It doesn’t have to be romantic.)
LOVE isn’t all chocolate and roses, although it could be. It can be sweet as these hummingbird hatchlings, in a cottony-soft nest…
Or as absurd as this peacock, oblivious to its surroundings.
LOVE can be dangerous at times, and prickly.
Clingy or trusting? Reveal to us your vantage point, in literal or figurative ways.
There are countless approaches you might take, when it comes to this theme o’ the week. No rules; limitless boundaries. But may I offer you one suggestion? Leave no stone unturned in your quest for LOVE!
One last thing: Be sure to link your project to the blog entry I post this Friday.
Note: This Art Challenge is not a contest, and you most certainly don’t need to be a pro to participate. This is art for its own sake, no judgment or restrictions. So c’mon, share the love.
Time and again, my camera leads me to the threshold of discovery, that shimmery place where boundaries dissolve and new worlds reveal themselves to the willing traveler. Today’s photo challenge, liminal, is new to my vocabulary. I explored its depths and breadth by reading, took notes, and then translated my findings into words and pictures that make sense to me.
Liminal comes to us from the Latin word limen. In the literal and figurative sense, it refers to some kind of boundary or threshold. And as you know, we encounter lots of jumping-off, stepping-over, and slipping-through, liminal moments in our lifetimes.
Sometimes we find ourselves drifting in a place that’s neither Here nor There, perhaps waiting on some unseen hand to lift the misty veil of uncertainty. So it is with many things, the creative process among them. It’s a shallow place, with dangerous undercurrents. Our inner critic calls out from the rocks, sings to us the siren songs of despair and disillusion. If we’re the impatient optimistic sort, this quickly leads us to the liminal point where we haul in the anchor and set sail for the Uncharted Place where anything is possible.
Weathervane on red tile roof (San Clemente, California)
Forest openings and locked gates, prison towers and poisoned apples…the hero’s journey is fraught with choices. Real and imagined dangers lurk around every corner. Read another way, it’s these liminal moments that shake us awake at dawn and–assuming there’s a fairy tale ending–lead us from Once Upon a Time to Happily-ever-after.
Saddleback Mountain, silhouetted by the dawn’s early light
Liminal points can also be literal. Stucco archways that frame the ocean, mosaic tiles that arrest your eye, and the staircase that meanders down a flowery path before finding its sandy terminus at the water’s edge…all liminal.
Casa Romantica (“Spanish Villa by the Sea” in San Clemente, California)
A liminal space invite you to step over the threshold, to knock on the door between Here and There. Maybe it’s inside, maybe it’s outside. It all depends on where you’re standing when the door swings open.
Liminal things: India ink, spilling from the nib of a storyteller’s pen; plumeria buds, unfurling into snowy white pinwheels with yellow centers; and water that bubbles and bursts, escape and return to their oyster shell existence.
Liminal events are the portals of transformation, the handmaidens of sacred rituals.
Always and Never, Everywhere and Nowhere…liminal points open up for interpretation the concepts of time and space. Perspectives shift. Feelings are transient. We listen for the space between the notes, and the things we once took for granted are now recognized as ephemeral.
Piano tuner at Casa Romantica. I’m fascinated by the placement of his hat. It occupies a liminal space.
Camouflaged as it is by dappled shade, this leaf suggests the liminal qualities of life itself…the interplay of shadow and light, and the interstices between being and not-being. Whoa, that’s deep.
Window Leaf Philodendron
Liminal. I rather like this word, don’t you? It’s mental yoga for people like me, who do some of their best thinking behind the camera lens. I’ve only just brushed the surface, so please, weigh in with your own definitions and examples!
For previous photography challenge entries, click here.
On a more personal note: During my brother’s illness, I didn’t give much thought to my promise to do a write-up about Father Serra’s canonization ceremony. It got reprioritized again, in that liminal time after Roger’s passing. But while it’s more succinct than I originally envisioned, it’s ready now. I’ll post it after the weekend.
Tagging at a freeway offramp, snapped through a car window
On my way to the garden nursery, I spotted this seemingly random, messy stylized group of letters. What was the artist trying to say? I wondered, so I took a quick, online course in Graffiti Comprehension.
A tag is someone’s assumed identity, the coded name. Tagging is the writing of that assumed identity. Every graffiti artist starts his or her career with getting a tag name and then learning to develop a tag style to go with the name. This name is chosen either by the writer or it is an extension of a mentor’s name. It is this name, which is the core of graffiti, and the tag is the quickest and simplest representation of this coded identity. The tag is the subject matter, the structure of the art that is graffiti art. The work of the graffiti artist revolves around the development of the name. A tag is the one colour signature of the graffiti artist and their identity. –Excerpted from “How To Read Graffiti,” by Jason Dax Woodward
Day 17 of the #AugustBreak2015 Photography Challenge. The prompt for today is reading.
As the drought deepens and the mercury soars, SoCal residents are increasingly worried about wildfires. Not that I wanted to photograph a conflagration, mind you, but I was thinking along those lines when I found my inspiration for today’s photography prompt.
Asian Bear, from the Mission Viejo, CA “Bear Project” collection
Look! A fire-breathing dragon! I stumbled upon discovered this bear at the Kaleidoscope Shopping Center, in nearby Mission Viejo. The bear’s mask is an eclectic mix of traditional Asian Masks, and the dragon is formed of rock, stone, and glass. So beautiful…capable as it is, there’s no way my iPhone could do it full justice.
Asian Bear also celebrates 2012–aka the “The Year of the Dragon,” in which the project came to be.
Beautiful, isn’t it? Asian Bear was among the first completed entries in “The Bear Project,’ which pays tribute to the beautiful brown bears that once roamed this area. (Mission Viejo’s Oso “Bear” Creek Trail was among the last places they were sighted.)
Each of the nine bears in the collection pays homage to a specific culture. When viewed together, they reflect the community’s ethnic heritage and diversity.
European Bear’s mask includes the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island
I never knew about this project before yesterday. But…serendipity! The gallery was open, and Co-Designer Joy Aldrich was on site, affixing mosaic tiles to the bear that signifies the contributions of early European immigrants. We chatted for quite a while, and she graciously allowed me to add three, jade green tiles to the Statue of Liberty’s robes.
I’m planning to revisit the studio in a week or so, to learn more about the project. I’ll take my SLR camera with me, so that I can photograph the entire family of bears, alongside their designer team.
Day 16 of the #AugustBreak2015 Photography Challenge. The prompt for today is fire.
Egyptian Star Flower, under the magic spell of a bubble wand
Memories float across our consciousness like bubbles, and then vanish into thin air. If we could capture those nostalgic moments in pixels, same as we do with the written word…imagine the possibilities!
Day 2 of Susannah Conway’s #August Break2015 photography challenge. Today’s prompt: air. Wheeee, bubble wands are the epitome of summertime fun! I chased bubbles through my flowerbeds, pressing the shutter release now and again. When this one landed in front of a flower cluster–pure magic! I just pointed my camera and clicked. Quick tip: If you add a few drops of glycerine to the soapy mixture, the bubbles tend to last a little longer. You can purchase both at your local drug store.
As the blue moon gave way to silvery dawn, I joined these early birds for breakfast.
Lesser Goldfinches.
Song Sparrow
Spotted Towhee
Lesser Goldfinch
Costa’s Hummingbird
Second breakfast, because why not?!? =:) (My first meal of the day was a quick-and-done energy bar.)
This is my first entry in Susannah Conway’s #AugustBreak2015. Today’s prompt: breakfast. Think of it as a virtual campfire for camera-toting hobbyists and storytellers. No need for special equipment, fancy words, or photo filters; it’s absolutely free, and there are no rules! Wanna join us? The deets are here.