Day 27 August 31, 2010

So very hot.  A cold shower for many long minutes helped.  I waited too long and ran out of patience to get myself to the river.  It got to the point that if I didn't cool myself off in the next 3 minutes I was going to scream.  Like being locked in a greenhouse. 

this is where I should have been today

Finally by about 8pm it started to cool, just in time to welcome my guests for the 1st WART meeting, that is the 1st Women and Art meeting, thanks to Charlotte's impetus.  Charlotte, Dawn Rae, Nicole and I drank wine, ate some wonderful food and talked about art, looked at my disastrously messy studio, and began to work on felted wool projects, and an applique project in Nicole's case.

Everything from the hot, sweaty day fell away.  Art prevailed.

Day 26 August 30, 2010

Mabou Harbour

Early Morning in Falmouth

Just made it home under the wire of yesterday, so to speak, around 11:15pm. 

Amazing place, Cape Breton.  Of course the heat, sun and crystal clear water helped...  the friendly people....  the sheer beauty of the vast woods and ample watersheds that empty into the ocean....  Ahhh.... I kept sighing in relief just to be there taking it all in, one more time.  Having lived there for more than a decade raising my girls also endeared you to the folks currently living there, or in some cases, still living there.

Day 25 August 29, 2010

The road dips and turns, exposing the shoreline. Wait… the sunset colours are so exquisite. Need to stop to enjoy it.

Day 24, August 28, 2010

Ah…. Time slows down in Cape Breton, especially if you drive the back roads. There’s nearly non-stop laughter when you visit with old friends.

Day 23 August 27, 2010

If you  practice your yoga first thing in the morning, you might find that you have a different body than the one you have later on in the day.  David likes early morning practice because it really shows you where you are stiff.

Road day.

Mostly sunny.

Party tonight with new folks and old in the country.

Just kidding, I’m not really in New York city, though I was last month.

Day 22 August 26, 2010

Getting ready day. 

Got the clover seed scattered for the green manure section of the garden.  Now it's up to the weather to do the rest.  Cloudy, rainy day, just might help things move along.

Packing for the weekend getaway to Cape Breton. 

1. yoga gear
2. vitamins
3. clothing
4. food and wine
5. camera
6. car ok
7. friends to go with
8. friends to visit

Day 21 August 25, 2010

You guessed it.  The beach!  Finally. The air off the water always makes me feel wonderful.  Today it was Crystal Crescent beach.  Only a few families shared it with us, as we arrived later in the afternoon and it was cool. 

Turquoise water close to shore, long barrel waves crash rhythmically.  Sand as soft as nubby silk.  Water as cold as a spring fed creek, even colder. 

A chance meeting with an old yoga friend in the city, inspired me to fly through my yoga practice with energy to spare.  Yes there are days when the conversation I have with my body when I practice yoga is very much like visiting a very good old friend.  Remember, I am old and I feel like I've been my own friend for quite a long while now.  Makes sense, doesn't it?

Day 20 August 24, 2010

The crickets' drone sets a backdrop for this evening.  The silver poplar leaves twist in the breeze but only at the very top of the trees.  It's early evening and quite still.  Farmers were busy hauling away freshly mown red clover from the nearby field where David and I walked the doggies an hour ago.  In the closest field to our house the corn is jumping out of the ground to an astounding height, maybe 14 feet high, or more. That's the highest I've ever seen corn here and I've lived here for 17 years now.  The summer has been green and bountiful.  We've had rain nearly every week which is highly unusual.  In a normal summer our lawn would be brown by this point.  This year it is still green. 

Every year brings a change.  Every moment does actually.  As I get older it seems I get smarter.  But probably I've just been noticing my mistakes and learning from them.  What a brilliant idea to do yoga every day for one year.  Thanks for that idea, Denise.  What a brilliant idea to have an art practice daily for one year as well.  Thanks for reminding me not to forget about art Charlotte.  You two helped me realize it was time to embrace my loves.  They are both medicine to me it seems, not just fun and challenging too.

In yoga practice today I thought that doing this for an entire year wouldn't seem long enough, I might have to do this for the rest of my life!  That gave me pause for reflection.  And as I sat down to compose this writing I thought, oh, what art will I practise today?  I thought why not show people some of the art I've already made?  Afterall, most of the people who might look at this blog won't have seen all of the art I've already made.  It's not like I have to run to the studio and quickly make something. Believe me there is art here.  I decided to celebrate with images of my own favourite art work.  Now I think I'll have to figure out how to run the images as a slideshow or something.  Or maybe just show them one at a time.  There's no hurry here.

We're far fom hurry, here in the land of droning crickets and dogs lapping water.  The evening air is warm and moist.  The garden abundant, the love for this life evident in every direction I look.  I trust that everyone finds peace within, the way I have tonight.  I know, I know, not everyone will find it by doing yoga or making art, but certainly it is not too optimistic of me to wish a few minutes peace to our plant earth and its inhabitants?  How about  if I include our entire solar system too?  Now that is overly optimistice I'm sure.  Done then.

Day 19 August 23, 2010

Yesterday I drank hibiscus tea.  Today I transplant my hibiscus plant into a larger pot. I post a photo I took of a hibiscus flower; I first noticed the bloom on the floor and was struck by its beauty, even in its state of rest, after the full force of the bloom period had passed.  It had dropped from the plant, but it still held life.  For what is life afterall?  A form of energy.  Notice the drapery of the bloom.  How it wraps upon itself.

In tonight's yoga classes with David I use more energy than I think I even have within me.  Being a great teacher David knows how to draw the best out of his students.  Not too much, just what they need at that particular time.  To work hard and find balance is tonight's lesson.  Sometimes the lesson is much more restorative, giving the body a chance to recover.  Other times even more energy is expended than tonight and sweat pours from the body.  Cooling the body.

The air is beginning to cool here overnight.  The sun's heat still is a force during mid day.

Today I removed a large charcoal drawing from my studio wall so that I could have a large blank spot in which to work.  Two painted plates hang there now, still in the works, but I needed distance to see what I'd done, to fine tune the strokes so to speak.

Yes distance can be very helpful, don't you think?  In art, in making all kinds of decisions, even in relationships.  We all need some space.  Here in the Maritimes we need lots of space, perhaps, because there is so much natural space all around us.  If we all clumped together there would be a bunch of people and too much nature, so we spread ourselves out to fill up all that nature all around us.  And nature is so inspiring.  Sometimes, especially in summer, I almost feel like plants are my very best friends because I spend so much time with them.

In yoga class tonight, the people are so friendly I find it very heartwarming.  I am a social animal too, even though I do really love plants, a lot.

Day 18 August 22, 2010

David and I worked on the garden today. He is tilling so I can plant a green manure crop in certain sections.  It is heavy work because we removed landscape fabric that proved to be ineffective around our ten blueberry bushes.  We'll put white clover there instead and mulch around the bushes. Tomorrow will see us back in the garden for a while.  I harvested tons of grape tomatoes.  Very lovely little round items. 

I'm working on hanging ceramic plates, painting them with acrylic paint and I'm having a mysteriously fun time with the process. Painting is pretty new to me, well artistic painting that is. House painting is very familiar. Yes I've decorated my ceramic work before, but only with slips, stains, glazes, scraffito, carving etc. and  I always fired the work to set the decoration. Today's work is different. I need new. The immediate feedback of painting on fired sculpture clay is great. Playful colours. Playful brush strokes. Fun, I need fun.  Lots of fun.  I'm writing myself a prescription right this moment, just like Denise did once, to have as much "me" time and fun time as possible for the next little while.  Let's say for the next week.

Tired hands today so I did a hand practice from one of Dona Holleman's books.  Gomukhasana was tough.  It always is.  Third time was the charm, as always.  I cannot believe how stiff I am.  Painful.  But with a few repetitions, thus the three times, I get some movement finally.  Actually the progress is rapid, but that first time is not anything like easy.   Enough complaints.  Perhaps I need the tee shirt.  "Complaining will not get you anywhere.  Just practice."  I don't think that shirt would be a great seller.

After my hand practice there were pleasant tingles in my hands, fingers and wrists. Voila.  I was also much calmer and I noticed my tiredness.  So, instead of forcing myself to jump up and do my normal inversions and a few standing poses, I just sat there, for a long time.  By the time my sternum was lifting towards my hands, my femurs tucked into their sockets, my shoulders down and back, the muscles between my shoulder blades contracting, and my collarbones stretching, I was perfectly happy.  I did the Ode to Patanjali aloud and when I finally came out of the sitting my right leg was pretty numb.  Oh well, small price to pay.  Savasana was lovely too.

David and I took a break during our gardening extravaganza.  We sat on our freshly painted deck in turquoise chairs which looked amazing next to the brown floor and crisp white railings.  We drank hibiscus sun tea, which was a gorgeous shade of coral red, which contrasted beautifully of course to the brown, white, and turquoise.  The sky was blue with long cumulus clouds lined up over the river.  Ah ....summer.  You are my favourite indeed.

Day 17 August 21, 2010

long day
sun abounds
three weeks running
...am I in California?

delicious edible morsels
explode from the gardens
patient cooks
create masterpieces


in headstand
I waver against the outer edge of the wall
that supports my sacrum
like a grass sways slightly
in a breeze
inner groins deepen
hands against the trim boards.
rest and lean against the muscular action
and come to stillness.

then in shoulder stand
tuck into the top of the hamstrings
until the back muscles relax and lengthen
the legs shoot skyward
grateful for the movement
rest. become stationary, breathe.

come to stillness again.

remember Joe Fafard's painted clay
converse with Charlotte and laugh completely
and Holly too
with our plan to escape
to Cape Breton soon

paint fired sculpture clay
in bold colors
think of Sol Lewitt's
screaming green and orange wall
my watery palette
experimental
having as much fun
as possible.

Day 16 August 20, 2010

Fog bound this morning.  By mid afternoon the greenhouse feeling was back.  Cooler though for finishing most of the painting in the living room.  White walls now, gallery like.  A good change.  Clean lines apparent.

Hot and humid doing yoga before dinner.  Just tired from mid-day onward.  So a long viparita karani was in order.  I almost quit after that one very long pose.  But then shoulder stand beckoned to me.  David was in the room on the sofa while I practised.  He'd napped there earlier. We talked a bit, which made the entire practice a bit odd, but still doable, more like a class.  I stretched my hands out on the wall at shoulder height, stiff from holding the paint brush.  David helped me line up my chair for a supported shoulder stand.  He stuffed a white blanket behind my back which helped to open up my chest.  I did a few variations with my legs after a while.  Then a long savasana, eyes closed, observing the colours that slid across my inner field of vision. 

Later on I wanted to download an image from my camera and realized I hadn't downloaded all the photos I took in the USA on my recent trip home.  Tons of images from Mass Moca in Massachusetts.  The Material World exhibit was amazing.  Environmental exhibits, made to order to fit that exact space.  One room filled with cavernous white paper that climbed skyward, up a staircase and into the next room above.  Another room or two filled with red rope knitted and knotted in huge sections that flowed over the floor and walls.  Sol Lewitt's building, the three floors of his installation, is the most breathtaking for me, perhaps due to the size of his exhibit.  Vast beyond imagining.  But the work itself is captivating.  Difficult to express how clean lines and huge shapes can make such an impression.  His exhibit will run for 25 years and then be painted over.  His work was completed by others.  He drew the analogy of being a composer who gave the directions for others to follow, the musicians.  Other artists created this exhibit, following Sol Lewitt's directions.  Run to see this exhibit.  Well, even walk, you have 25 years before it is over.

My breath really left my body though at Chesterwood, Daniel Chester French's home and studio in Massachusetts, that is now a national historic site.  His studio especially just left me gasping for calmness.  Yes he worked large (one of his best known works is the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C.), but the building devoted to his work was so spacious, well lit and just perfect in many ways it left me filled with silence. Unpretentious.  I could see him working in the smallest room, could feel him there.  The property alone was huge, 122 acres with wooded trails and vast lawns.  From another era entirely, but it spoke to me and dare I say it would speak to many besides me.

Recognition.  That's what it did for his art.  His studio unmistakenly recognized the importance of art in his life.

Day 15 August 19, 2010

Another day in paradise.  Sunny nearly all day.  David and I painted the living room today.  Only the 2nd top coat tomorrow and we'll be done with the messy part and will then need to clean up and move stuff back.  By the time it was yoga practice time the house reeked of paint fumes, even with 4 fans going and all our windows open.  So I found a shady spot on the kitchen deck and practiced outside.  Looking at the sky during headstand and shoulder stand was uplifting.  The clouds cheered me up.

I look at some of the gorgeous art in our house.  On the top shelf of the downstair's bookcase there is a coral coloured papier mache taxi, made in Cuba.  It is about ten inches long.  I still remember the proud look on the woman's face who made it when I told her I wanted to buy it.  She was filled with the look I remember on my own face when I sold pottery directly to customers at a craft fair.  Happy to know that someone else liked your work well enough to purchase it.

Then there is the white shell that my friend Paul cut into a native symbol. Beautiful and crisp in design.  Soulful. It draws you in. An orchid is next, still flowering with three soft pastel green flowers.  The orchid, shell and taxi all sit in front of a watercolour my youngest gave me that she made while she was in India.  The watercolour is pale blues with black ink work.

Lastly, three small photographs.  David and his sister Faye as small children sit for a formal black and white portrait. They are both holding small toys and they look pleased.  In another frame there are two photos. The frame hinges in the middle.  From a distance the two photos are similar in content, two couples.  In the first David and I are in costume standing side by side. You cannot see any space between us and we each hold our hands lightly clasped in front of us; David looks Shakespearean in black and I look medieval and regal in red.  We are in our forties.  The companion photo is of my parents in their early thirties. This means their photo was taken around 1936. They are wearing jodpurs and light weight sweaters.  Mother is in dark colours with a cloche knit hat and Dad wears very light colours; he has his hands in his pockets.  They are standing side by side and Mother is leaning into Dad with one of her shoulders behind his back; one of her hands is in her pocket while the other rests in Dad's open elbow.  They are in front of a dark car with whitewall tires. They are both thin, elegant and look quite happy in their pose.

On a day like today, life becomes art. 

Day 14 August 18, 2010

Truth tellers. We all need someone to whom we can tell the truth. When the poet Sue Goyette told me of the poet Mary Oliver’s words that I quote below, I created a piece of art in response to Oliver’s words. Her words are, “….Doesn’t everything die at last and too soon? Tell me what is your plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”


It is a perfect time to hear those words. There is no time like the present. We all lead such busy, busy lives. Do we forget what’s important? Do we speak the truth to anyone at all? At least to ourselves? I’m not saying this is easy, mind you, but I really feel like speaking the truth is needed. Otherwise we bury our feelings and never own up to how we really feel.

Oceans make good listeners. So do pets. Even swimming pools. Paper also works. And yes, people are sometimes good listeners too. Just get that truth out. It somehow feels so much better once you let the truth escape. Somehow it unburdens you, in just the act of telling. Doesn’t this say worlds about how much we are social creatures? We need to share.

Day 13 August 17, 2010

My art practice today revolved around lending my support towards the newest art project in the works by Christo and Jeanne Claude, titled “Over the Water”. Part of the preliminary work is convincing the Federal government in the USA to allow the project to take place. Public comments of support are being accepted only until August 30th. If you log onto their website you too can add a comment of support. Their environmental art is profound on many levels, visually, aesthetically, philosophically, etc. and I applaud their vision of art.

Today in my yoga practice the thought crossed my mind in headstand that I wanted to share my thoughts about how much fun it is to practice yoga. There are literally times when I feel that practicing yoga is much like taking a vacation, but you take it inside your own body. You know that feeling of refreshment when you arrive at a vacation destination? The newness of everything is satisfying. So too is yoga. You unleash newness from within. You move in ways you really didn’t think you could, which brings new feelings about who you are. Yes, just who are you, and why do you practice what we call yoga?

You practice to remember how to be playful, to have a body limber as a child’s, to enjoy the moment life presents you, or to at least accept it graciously for not all of life is enjoyment. To gain insight into compassion. To leave negativity behind. To move forward and to stay still, knowing that both are one and the same.

Day 12 August 16, 2010

Painting again, excited to see a fresh colour. It changes everything. Your perception of an interior living space is completely altered by its colour scheme. In Iyengar yoga, your perception of the body’s interior space is completely altered by closely following the teacher’s directions. You learn to feel from the inside out. And yes, the light bulb moment does come. You can feel that particular muscle on the left side, but alas, not on the right side. Your awareness can then deal with it. Not knowing is even worse.



Our pattern of understanding our own bodies becomes engrained over time. Just like our perception of our interior living spaces becomes engrained if we never change our colour schemes. Habitual posture needs fresh yoga eyes to see and feel imbalances, so that they can be realigned and relief can come from aches and pains caused by these postural imbalances.



So too our homes need visual changes or they become stale, all too known, all too secure. We need to see like artists, see how colour affects our moods and our actual perceptions of what is right in front of us. We also need to see with yoga eyes, see with compassion, give even ourselves a break, not just everyone else a break. With compassion comes patience.



We all could use more of that.

Day 11 August 15, 2010

today

sort through the teaching files
visit the kiln and glance at her goddesses
silently enter the art room so still and expectant
home to fresh air
for hours and hours
paint brush in hand

the softness and quiet of viparita karani
rest on the right side
finish a long section of yogic reading
grateful for the conversation

sort the blueberries
admire the tomatoes
quench the thirst of the houseplants

overhear shrieks of joy
from small children poolside
remember your own love affair
with water

blue skies now pink
darken at last
quiet outside
and quiet within

Day 10 August 14, 2010

A bit in fear of what might be expected of my sore body at yoga class today, I needn't have worried.  Probably because it was another hot, humid day, our class this morning was about contacting many different parts of our pelvis, hips, legs, chest, and spine, all from a supine position on our backs or in downward facing dog stretch, adho mukha svanasana.  Yes we did setubandha and a headstand too, salamba sirsasana against the wall, that was so, so quiet because of our work with the sacrum and hip bones, and a shoulder stand, salamba sarvangasana, with high elevation under our shoulders, with a concentration once again on the function of the sacrum, and sit bones.  Overall, today's class was a quiet, thoughtful, inward looking class that sensitized us to an awareness of our own body's workings. 

The second class was also a joy.  I learned a good way to contact my shoulders by using my hands against the wall at shoulder height, emphasizing contact with the wall with the crowns of my thumb joints.  That pressure signalled my shoulders to open evenly, while usually one shoulder opens more than the other.  There is always something new to learn in every class.

While David, the tired teacher who had reached the end of another week napped at home, I decided to walk the dogs, the two black Labrador retrievers, Mr. Bear and Ms. Maddy.  It was 4pm by then and it was so hot on the dykelands that my back felt like a camp fire was one foot away from it.  Instead it was the sun's heat claiming ownership of my back.  Then I noticed the hum of the bees, working hard amongst the plentiful clover blossoms that seemed to be everywhere on the pastureland.  As I carefully stepped through the clover I imagined how fearful a walk that would be for someone with anaphylactic shock issues.  One mistep would anger a bee which might retaliate.

This thought brought me to my morning's fear of what might happen in yoga class.  When we hold ourselves in fear it doesn't help us.  A better approach is either to change direction and thus avoid what makes us afraid (and perhaps face it again later) or become very calm and confident as we proceed forward in the direction of our fears.  Sometimes it is our anticipation of events that makes us fearful.  The event will work itself out. 

It is all about trust.  If we live our life with good intentions we can trust that things will work out for us.

Day 9 August 13, 2010

I found blueberry heaven today.  If you aren't limited to eating exclusively organically grown food there is a blueberry heaven in Nova Scotia in the Annapolis valley.  Can anyone afford to exclusively eat organically grown food?  I even grow some of my own food organically and I cannot afford to eat completely that way.  I was there in blueberry heaven today.  The blueberry fans are dropped off by bus somewhere in the 49 acres under cultivation at the U pick. There are also another 100 acres nearby of high bush berries. 

I know I know, some people prefer the low bush.  I just love fruit period, so I'm willing to try anything that claims to be a fruit.  These high bush berries were so lush they appeared very similar to grapes on the vine, albeit bluer and somewhat smaller, but they were in such dense large clusters it was amazing. 

That same winter I drew and sculpted the garlic, 2008, I did the same for blueberries and tomatoes, using photographs of my own blueberries and tomatoes as inspiration.  Thus the charcoal drawing I'm posting.

With the help of my friends, the Rappoldt family, I picked 30 pounds of blueberries this morning.  What a haul.  I'm snacking on them as I write.  20 pounds are going to my daughter and her best friend, and I think I'll go back once more this season to pick another box or two.  I just upgraded from snacking on them to having a small bowl of them with cream.  Yum.

I'm still cutting back on my caffeine with a goal of one cup of coffee per day, period, so I took a rare nap this afternoon and then stumbled around like someone sleep deprived when I awakened.  I also slept ten hours last night.  Then I did a supported  yoga practice of inversions.  Supported viparita karani, supported headstead, supported shoulder stand, supported halasana, savasana.  Still tired but more refreshed, I wandered outside to see how my garden survived being ignored the last few days.  Gardens are like lovers, they notice when you forget to shower attention on them.

Wading through the carrots and basil, I pulled weeds, picked tiny tim tomatoes, pulled weeds, pulled weeds, and pulled weeds.  Head thoroughly full of the colour green I walked inside and was stunned to see a mosaic hanging in the hallway.  Your art work is hard to see sometimes and time needs to pass in order to really see it fresh.  Of course you see it A LOT as you make it, but then it's done and you are almost sick of it sometimes, but happy that it is indeed finally done.

It amazes me how much personal space I need. It's miraculous I have a husband and some friends; are other artists so hard on those they love, so hard to get along with?  Hmnnnn....

Day 8 August 12, 2010

Well of course when you finish your writing with the phrase “on a day like today, life is very, very good” you are most likely going to experience a change in that feeling on the next day. David used to tell me quite often, until I understood and didn’t need reminding, that as humans we tend to go from one extreme to the other. It is more of a challenge for us to remain in a place of calmness in the center. We easily vacillate from extremes of joy to depression. What’s in the middle of those two states? Contentment, acceptance. So after that day of blueberries and peaches delirium I began the next day similarly, with those succulent, visually contrasting fruits in front of me in a bowl. They tasted exquisite once again.




It was another sunny day, a good day to begin more exterior painting on our snug house. I am usually the leader in this matter. David does participate, but I am the keener. He was at work so I set myself on “full charge” and began to scrub all the beautiful green mold from the balustrades of half of our kitchen deck railing and floor, and our front entrance steps as well. Then I primed and stained this area. Sounds simple, doesn’t it?



Countless hours later I stopped and admired my work. It did look nice. One of the costs was my aching hands and back. This I addressed with a hand practice and a back practice, both of which helped. I was pretty beat though. Then after a prolonged search on my computer I did indeed find the original files of my drawings that I’d photographed a while ago, the ones I’d lost track of recently, but I still couldn’t seem to find the photoshop versions that removed the “yellowing paper” look that many of my drawings now have. You know you are getting old when the sketch books you drew on a few decades ago are visibly aging.



So, I took my visibly aging body to bed early, read a few chapters in my current book, Eat Pray Love and drifted off. Soreness aside, it was a pretty great day. I did notice that a few decades ago I would have finished both decks, front and kitchen in one day. Those whirlwind years are no more. I still do enjoy the whirlwind, but I realize I have to get off that carousel ride earlier. This year I need to space out that kind of manual work. I sit back and cherish the sun instead as it blasts away on my garden. I’m grateful that I have a snug little house to paint. I’m grateful period.

Day 7 August 11, 2010

Life cannot get any better than fresh peaches and blueberries on my corn flakes in the morning.  At least that's what I thought this morning.  It got better though when I had fresh peaches and blueberries again for desert at lunch at my friends' house today.  Wow.

Then I got home, played with the doggies and fed them. Next I framed my pastel in a plain black frame I've had for a few years and hung it up in the house.  Wow again.  Nothing like new art.  It's as good as new clothes, or better.  The doggies then went to the pen and I did my yoga practise.  So tired.  Tired of my curving back, it curves the wrong way, on a bad day I can feel it curving a lot and my chest closing.  So, between the tiredness and my back issues I decided, okay body, I know what you need, INVERSIONS! 

Nothing like inversions to wake you up and open your back.  In headstand I supported my back with an outer corner of the wall completely supporting my spine.  Once I could rest my spine and therefore not worry about balance I could make adjustments without using any strength at all.  But it was the three backbends after my shoulder stand that really helped the most.  Using a chair, a mat and a wooden block, following Jawahar's instructions, I rested my hands on the back of the chair and stretched my upper back a lot. Shoulder blades firm into the back.  My breathing felt so open, like I hadn't breathed in ten years.  Deep, deep breaths. 

So you see, life can get better than fresh peaches and blueberries sometimes.  I can wait for the fresh fruit again till the morning.  What a taste though.  And what a feeling in those backbends.  And that new art is fun.  On a day like today, life is very, very good.

Day 6 August 10, 2010

The pastel is done.  That was fun, reinventing it nearly entirely.  I'm new to pastels.  They are very forgiveable, just add more colour and you can change lots.  The green of summer, my favourite season, and purple, my favourite colour,  predominate in this drawing. There is a hint of an organic branch form and a few berry shapes, but the abstracted purple forms in the background are even more visually powerful than the organic plant forms.  Abstraction wins over realistic imaginings.

It's like staring into space with your eyes open.  You zone out and everything gets softer, out of focus and it just looks very different.  Like the state of introspection, when your eyes are open but you are really looking within, nothing outside of yourself is in focus.  In my drawing the abstracted background appears more in focus than the branch form.

This also happens in yoga asana practise.  I kind of remember that at first one of the things about yoga that really appealed to me was this inward focus, with the eyes open.  I used to need to zone out even before I did yoga.  I had to put myself in neutral so to speak, and just let all that stimulus of our busy, busy world disappear.  I think I was bored, that is why I zoned out.  But in yoga I'm never bored.  It is intellectually stimulating and very challenging physically.  It also humbles you, because you cannot achieve the classic form of the asana easily, at least I cannot.  This might be due to the fact that I started yoga so late in my life.  I was 40 when I started.

To all those who begin something new, at whatever age, it doesn't matter, just be fearless and be playful.  It helps.

Day 5 August 9, 2010

I cannot believe it is only day 5.  Things are beginning to blur.  Tired, sore body getting down to the mat tonight.  Sometimes the mat is so far away and getting to it makes you realize just how sore you are.   The good thing was that tonight after David's two yoga classes at Inner Sun Yoga in Wolfville I felt less sore and much more contented, both physically and in every other way.  Calm, patient, accepting of my own foibles, compassionate, all those came from "stretching my animal nature". 

Sometimes I think lots of humanity's troubles occur from too many of us forgetting that we are animals who need to stretch, play, move, and just chill, pretty darn often.  I watched Mosey the cat today.  He jumped gracefully into his playbox, made of cardboard.  He batted away at the string taunting him outside his window.  Even when I first arrived, he sat up, checked me out, then stretched back down on his side, so lanquidly and effortlessly.  A complete full body stretch where even his back leg muscle fibres quivered from the stretch, his spine elongated, curved and he back bended completely, all the while keeping his glance on me, as if to say, "who is this person and will she rub my tummy?"

Yes we, the humans, need to play and stretch more, certainly.

Day 4 August 8, 2010

Thanks to great effort on the part of David and I, there are now 31 bundles of garlic hanging from the rafters of our shed.  Each bundle has 15-20 garlic bulbs, freshly pulled from the warm, hay mulched earth.  Rain is forecast for Tuesday.  I wanted to get it under cover before the rain began. 

This is why I've included an image of one of my winter projects from 2008, a sculpture of garlic, blueberries and tomatoes made in white sculpture clay on the blog today.  Yes, winter was a great time to celebrate the garden that year.  Some of these peices and a large charcoal drawing were included in a group show at Acadia University art gallery the following spring.  It was a VANS show for my geographical region, curated by two great artists, Terry Drahos and Deborah Nicholson.

So you see garlic is big in my life.  I grow a lot of it, photograph it, draw it and sculpt it.  Oh yes, I also eat it.

Yoga today was calming and restorative.  Deep restful breaths, there was nothing at all aerobic about today's practise.  Still tired from my trip it seems.  What a blessing for me, to know that yoga can help so much. 

Day 2 August 6, 2010

Wanda joins us.  She lives next door to me and only heard about our project two days ago from Denise and she's decided to join us.  When she told me that I burst out laughing, two days notice and she signs on for a year long yoga practise, pretty impressive!

Back at our practise site, a gorgeous shady lawn with huge locust trees above us, we witnessed a tree shower.  The sun glistened on the drops as they splashed through the air.

I taught today.  That was a challenge as I am only a dedicated student and someone who assists in a beginner class, not a certified teacher, so I guess it is more accurate to say that I led our practise.  Sun salutations, starting at 8am before the heat had a chance to exhaust us.  Then a few basic standing poses, utthita trikonasana (triangle pose), virabhadrasana II (warrior pose), then adho mukha virasana (child's pose), adho mukha svanasana (downward facing dog stretch), and savasana (corpse pose). 

Back to Denise's for chai and a bowl of watermelon and blueberries.  Lots to talk about around the table and later on the porch.  The neighbours, our children, the architecture, the weather here versus in California, where Denise lives currently most of the time.  I've also lived there quite a while ago. 

Feeling how very tired I am I get home at 11:15 and try to nap.  Cannot settle. My chest aches from the long week of travel; I cannot seem to feel any openess in my armpit chest. So I do a long inversion, (one of my favourite poses these days) two bolsters in viparita karani, with a tri folded white blanket to support my shoulders.  I somersault and use the ropes to settle myself and breathe, nearly fall asleep until my right leg wakes me up.  It is turning itself outward which upsets the balance and triggers my brain to wakefulness.  Then I go to bed to sleep for two hours soundly, until the phone awakens me.

The white blanket in viparita karani makes me see an analogy with our musculature.  In yoga asana we attempt to stretch our muscles completely, even the tightest areas.  When you fold a blanket and smooth it out, you can see the small wrinkles underneath, you can smooth them, or else unfold the blanket part way and smooth them, then refold and experience the full, thick smoothness of your folded blanket.   That is what we try to do with our muscles, retrain them to accept a full, thick smoothness and movement in ways they've lost touch with, through habitual posture and harmful work movements.  I feel the source of my back ache, the small knot and pinched muscles.  Tomorrow I will undoubtedly chose to do a back practise.  It will help.

The rest of the day I lie down and read, walk half bent over with an ache in my back.  It only leaves when I make time on my route to the laundry room to check out my pastel drawing that is mid process.  I spend ten minutes looking at it.  Add colour, and I examine the new, beautiful, soft purple skin thin gardening gloves that I've slipped on to keep my hands clean of the pastels.  I like the gloves a lot, as much as I like the colours I'm using.  The form needs more work. It looks too literal, too real.  More abstraction needed.

As I leave the art making I notice that my back is okay.  But then it changes and aches again. I walk very slowly.  Lie down and read with knees supported.  David arrives.  The dogs come with him.  I'm sleepy and sore. 

My second ten minutes with the pastel, which precedes the laundry moving up to the clothes line, goes even better than earlier.  I think this drawing is nearly done.  Placed at a distance, I look at it keenly.  The movement might need some more definition, but it feels great to work, even for just these few minutes.  Timeless, just the aching back stops me.

Lie down to read with my knees elevated.  Eventually the phone rings and I have a great, uplifting talk with Jen, my youngest.  She is working on the process of realizing a great idea.  Thinking it through.  Her best friend and I agree to pitch in and help a bit.  Excitement.

Blueberries beckon. I pick most of the remaining berries in the garden and I think of my large blueberry drawings from winter 2008, my winter garden drawings, charcoals, based on my photos.

Slowly, day two ends.

Day 3 August 7, 2010

First thing, before even eating, I go to look at my "nearly finished" pastel.  Surprise.  It looks horrible.  The thought appears that it will be so much better cut into 6 or 8 pieces.  I'll reconsider my approach later.  I need abstract, not representational right now.

A back practise really helps today.  Two hours.  I worked alone, except for a little help from David, but it was so good to see my fellow travellers and friends at the yoga studio.

One and a half hours in the AGNS gallery.  First to see the new finalists for the Sobeys Award.  Graeme Patterson's work interests me.  His tiny animals and his sense of humour. 

The native art exhibit, the Inuit exhibit and finally Maud Lewis' house all draw me in and captivate my senses completely.  The rice paper, mixed media, an amazing birds eye maple oval frame around a emotionally charged Alan Silliboy mask painting, so much to touch with my eyes.

Day 1 August 5, 2010

What an idea!!! I jump on board. It is bound to help both of us, my dear friend Denise and I, and hopefully others too. A three part idea for me. 1. Yoga asana practise daily, 2. Art practise daily, 3. Spread the word. Write about it, talk about it, to increase the potential to help others.

For Denise, who is currently writing a book about ayurveda, East Indian medicine, and homeopathy, she wants to begin our project by our talking weekly. I’m the compulsive note taker, and so I write. Denise expresses her focus as teaching dinaycharya, or daily routine, which includes meditation and pranayama.

Denise and I will talk about it, write about it and see where this takes us, to locations other than our current ones, most likely. She is most often in California, and I in Nova Scotia. Two countries. Two friends. A project to unite us.
Today, August 5, 2010, it begins.  Flying home, arriving at 1am ... I've rearranged my flight home from visiting family in New York and New Jersey to arrive on August 4th, so that our project can start on the most auspicious day possible, based on our charts, August 5th, according to Denise's vedic astrologer. We needed to be physically together to begin our project, though much of it will find us in different geographic locations. Rising at 8am David and I meet Denise at 10am to begin our opening ceremony.  The air is humid, the sky grey, the setting tranquil, rural and a lush green.

We arrange an altar on a yoga mat in front of us, covered with many books, incense, Ganesha symbols, and an offering of food.  Our three mats are lined up parallel to each other, one pink, one purple, one blue.   Denise gives David and I a piece of art devoted to Ganesha.   She talks us through the symbolism of his image.  I brought for the altar a Ganesha symbol that Jawahar Bengara, one of Guruji B.K.S. Iyengar's senior teachers, gave me when he was just here running a glorious workshop at David's studio. Ten hours of bliss.  On his last visit to us I gave Jawahar a porcelain vase I'd made that carried an inscription of the aum sign on its four paddled sides.  This visit he gave me Ganesha's symbol to benefit my love and devotion to the art making process.

David, Denise and I each take our turns.  I begin with the Ode to Patanjali.  The air vibrates with our three aums. It blends seamlessly with the dense air, much like the crickets' loud song.

Then Denise starts with the Ganesha (Ganpati) Mool Mantra.  We recite it 108 times using our japa string of sandalwood beads that Denise brought us from India.  Then it is David's turn to lead us. 

 He choses a series of gentle poses.  We finish with namaste.

It is very hot and Denise and I are tired.  David leaves for work at his Iyengar studio in the city.  Denise and I finish by talking a bit,  and then I lead us in one series of the sun salutations, done slowly with attention to fulfill Denise's request.  We finish in savasana and then walk to Denise's for chai. 

And so it begins.  We celebrate our choice to begin this journey together.  365 days of yoga for each of us.  Attention to the meaning and explanation of ayurvedic daily practice for Denise.  For me, a daily committment to an art practise as well and the hope that others will benefit from this journey.  We are very much looking forward to this year.