Chino Vallley: the next leg of the journey

Leaving California was a traumatic experience, and I can't say that the first year in Arizona has been soothing to the soul.  I do, however, feel that there has been a positive shift.  I have made some lovely, trustworthy friends here with creative spirits, integrity, and kind hearts.  I have made my way, despite all odds, with a 6 year old horse, a 2 year old hyperactive pup, and a cantankerous old cat.  I have viewed sunsets that could never be painted because the viewer would know you were lying.  I have witnessed stars so low that I can see light years away to only a flicker. I have seen landscapes so beautiful that I was left in total awe.  There hasn't been much time for art making over the past year, so I have had to live a balanced, creative life to stay healthy, breathe deeply, cry loudly, and laugh daily.  I am blessed now with a new muse.  He is a song in my heart, a twinkle in my eye, a joy to my spirit.  I have finished 3 books in the past month as gifts.  A hard-covered beauty for his birthday, a love letter, and a new structure of 4 accordions that transform into a box.  I am happy. I recently looked at a very dear friend who flew in from Los Angeles, and with tears in my eyes, said, "Is it safe to be happy again?"  I was assured that it is, so I have trusted his word, and am living like every day is a New Blessing, a new lease on life.  The grandsons are visiting soon, and I am very excited to have them in my new home.  I want to run and skip and sing songs with Jack, and lay on the floor and let Sawyer crawl around while I nibble his toes and tickle him.  Of course Willow will get in on the act, and will slobber their faces with pup kisses, and Pepito will run and hide in the closet, disgusted with any creature less than 4 feet tall.  A new job is around the corner, and I look forward to a New Beginning once again.  New students, colleagues, parents, administrators. I know this routine, but it is always a first.  I am indebted to the support and love of all of my students, beginning in 1979.  They continue to show me that I am on the right path, and that my work is worthy.  Their texts and visits and Facebook notes are treasured in my heart.  I hope they know that their light and joy has carried me when things look glum and gloomy.  So, yes, it is safe, and I am breathing deeply, and delighted to be happy, truly, again.

Sawyer Brady

I'm feeling sad that my Sawyer doesn't yet know Grammy's face and voice.  He doesn't know my genuine cackle, or my crazy dog.  He hasn't figured out that I have lost most of my common sense in raising children which has led me to become an indulgent granmama.  He doesn't know that a shrug or a maybe means "most likely."  Nor does he know that my role as Grammy has become my most treasured persona.  It is a sense of pride, a sense of "I made it without having to kill myself getting there" (hmmmm...), a sense of glory that has shoes to fill that are larger than the giant's at the top of the beanstalk.  I didn't see Sawyer Brady emerge into the Outer World, nor see his momma at nine months pregnant.  He will have to trust Jack's opinion I guess.  He will have to see Jack's stable, chunky legs leap into my arms and nestle his face into my neck.  He will have to hear Jack make some ridiculous grunt that is his dog sound when he lays eyes on Willow.  He will have to experience his mother's face when Jack hands Tillie Horse a carrot, and his fingers are too close to her big, grinding teeth (but never really close enough).  And he will definitely have to fit on my lap with Jack while we play fetch with Willow.  Willow never fetches and retrieves the toy unless we are playing with Jack.  She thinks it's a game of keep-away, unless Jack is bouncing up and down with me chanting, "There she goes, there she goes!" Then "Here she comes, here she comes!"  It doesn't work for her if it is just plain old Linda without Granma attached.  So I trust that my Sawyer will have plenty of opportunities to explore the natural world with me.  I have to trust that he will find my eccentricities as alluring as Jack. Yet, truly, there is no doubt.  Sawyer will feel my full heart and if he's anything like me and Jack, will most likely know that Grammy's lap is very close to a throne.

Home on the Range

I guess it's about time that I shared a bit about The Move to Arizona.  I have made monthly trips home to see the grandsons (Sawyer Brady was born December 17, 2010), except for this past month due to the work involved with directing the Fine Arts Festival.  I love the climate here (although it's been a tad too cold lately for my thin blood), and the landscape is fabulous.  Willow the Wonder Dog is probably the happiest.  She gets a very long, sad face when we jump in the car bound for Los Angeles.  "Why would we ever leave the ranch?" she says every inch of the 433 miles.  Tillie Horse is doing much better since she adjusted and began putting on some weight.  And feisty Pepito...well, he's just not so feisty any more. He has taken on the life of a retired gentleman, who is no longer afraid of visitors, and just wishes they'd share a bit off their plates and stay a while.  He has gained a few pounds, and has more of a waddle, than a walk.  The students are just great here, and they've kinda grown on me in a good way.  Willow sees everyone of them as her own kids.

The best visit so far was when Chelsea (pregnant with Sawyer) and Jack made the October trip.  Jack loves visiting the studios and amusing all the big kids with his painting and clay skills.  He loves the wide open space, and green lawns, and visiting the horses Up Top.  He flew in as Buzz Lightyear and trick-or-treated for his first time to a few of the local teachers' homes.  I even captured a cicada for him so he could examine it's big ugly head and cellophane wings more closely.  I sure do miss those two little ones, and am looking forward to squeezing them tight as soon as I can.

The Big Decision

Sometimes, one has to make BIG decisions that include leaving what we love and know and hold dear to our hearts.....and that is what I have been doing: making BIG decisions.  It is time to get back out in the world and teach, and as I have been applying for art positions, and flying around visiting private schools, I have had to think about what I value, and what will balance the grieving I feel about leaving my home, my kids, and my grandson.  At the end of 14 months of interviewing, I have chosen a position at the Orme School of Arizona in Mayer.  I will be the Department Chair of Fine Arts, and teach painting, drawing, ceramics, and a foundations course.  Chelsea, Jack, Willow, and I drove there last Monday and visited the school, and explored the great mesa, and I, of course, had to pick up any meaningful mementos.  It seems that the ravens were molting, so there were large, black feathers all over the ground.  When I first interviewed at the school, I read a brochure that stated, "Riding across this range in late spring, you may come across yellow-green flowers blooming on a low-lying vine from which seed pods will grow.  Later, as these tough pods dry out, they curl and split open. The pointed ends from sharp claws hook onto the animals that move through the range and the mature seeds are thus shaken out and scattered abroad.............[this] unique plant is indigenous to this area........and these devil's claws seem an appropriate symbol of the Orme School Fine Arts Festival."

As I was walking Willow, I finally found one of these devil's claws, so of course, had to add it to my collection of nature's treasures.  Perhaps finding it finalized my decision, or maybe I had just made the decision, and then I found one.  Or....maybe, it found me.  What this devil's claw doesn't know, however, is that it may be here in Southern California now, but it will be returning home again soon.

The land is beautiful, and the climate is fine.  It will be the next leg of my journey.  I am excited, overwhelmed, and grateful.  Being able to take my animals with me was a priority, and all three of them are accepted and have a home in this awesome environment.  Pepito will continue to chase coyotes until he's too old (or until he's eaten), Tillie has a new ranch, and Willow will have hundreds of acres on which to run and jump.  Willow pouted all the way home when we left on Wednesday.  Is it almost time to change the title of my blog from "From the foothills" to "From the mesa?"

Finishing Work

                                                                                                
I thought it was important to include my finished piece along with all of the others that I posted from Michael deMeng's workshop last Saturday.  I had heard that my dear auntie was dying and I needed a way to honor her presence in my childhood.  She was an extraordinary character, and we all loved her very much. I briefly shared at the workshop that my childhood at her house was filled with ponies and baby raccoons and ducks and chickens, and of course, dogs and cats.  It was a beautiful little Victorian with a full porch and a weeping willow on the front lawn (hence, my pup's name: Willow).  Gladys Chadbourne died today at age 84.  She will be missed.

CAVE OF PAGES with Michael deMeng at Zinnia

I have promised to be a bit more consistent with postings on this BLOG project, so since I shot a number of photos after working with Michael yesterday at Zinnia, I decided that this was a good place to share them.  This is the second time I have taken a workshop with Michael, and I am always struck by his mad, little professor mentality at resolving visual problems, creating new ideas, and using materials that are not traditional adhesives/products.  Although I have never been truly competent at manly power tools, he seems to overlook that flaw and indulges me when I need to insert a found stick through a riding boot to attach a cat skull, or to drill through a wooden block on which to place a nest and a maternal figure!

The Cave of Pages concept is very similar to many of his assemblage ideas, except that it focuses more on the "tunnel effect."  It reminded me several times of teaching the traditional Victorian tunnel book to high school students.  I was pleased visually when I noticed that a few students had placed their focal point on the next-to-the-last layer (as opposed to the very last "page"), so that the image created a shadow, thus implying deeper space behind that focal point.  I will try and post enough samples so that you can see that for yourself.

Because I have supported and held an informal "critique" time with my students at the completion of their work, I want to note an important quality of Michael's critiques.  Yesterday I had an "ah-ha!" feeling in my heart that made me want to say aloud, "You do good things for people, Michael, and that makes my heart happy."  He has a special way of pointing out specific details on each piece that educates, informs, honors, and appreciates each person's work.  Whether the artist made the decision consciously, or not, Michael highlights that visual choice and explains why it is successful.  He is able to say, for example, "This is clearly not my palette, but look at how successful it is with her choice of objects, and the way in which she distributed them across the visual field." I think every single student walks away with a good feeling.  I think that he encourages and supports creativity in a very personal way that is real and tangible.  I think some people are inherently good teachers.  Michael deMeng has no choice, really.....the gods of creativity touched him with their magic goop and sent him out in the world to create order out of madness with materials that a semi-normal person would declare as junk (I know no such people, of course).

Thank you to Michael for another inspiring workshop, and to all of the students that participated in such an industrious, creative day.  As always, I am grateful, and my heart is full.

P.S. ...and now you can see I have NO idea how to control the lay-out of these images with text in this blog world!! :/  I have tried 100 times, and ???

Rebecca's Gift

While thinking about former models I had designed for student projects, I was reminded of a middle school class I had taught several years ago when a high school student posted her most recent drawing on my Facebook wall for my input.  I thought, "Hmmmm.....Rebecca was in that class....what are the chances of her still having a little book she made when she was 12 or 13 years old?" 

SO I dared to ask her if she remembered that project, and to my surprise, a photo of the book appeared on my "wall" within seconds!! Is that an amazing gift?  Not only did she save it, but she knew exactly where it was, shot the photo with her cell phone, and I had it in record time.

Here is the photo Rebecca sent. As you can see, it is a flag book with her self-portrait, and when opened, the flags spread apart to reveal her art work.

It is evident that teaching visual arts is a miraculous experience!