You know, those days when every word is a struggle, the light fades before you can change lenses, and the brush and canvas are not even on speaking terms.

Those days.

On those days I can get to wondering what the point is.

So I thought I’d share this quote with you because it really resonated with me. It is going up on my studio wall where it will remind me to keep perspective when I’m having one of those days. Maybe you’ll find it a bit inspiring too, or at least interesting.

I think this is something we grasp intuitively, but perhaps rarely think about.  And I think it is really beautifully put.

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“…if someone asks ‘To what purpose should we help one another, make life easier for each other, make beautiful music or have inspired thoughts?’ he would have to be told: ‘If you don’t feel it, no-one can explain it to you.’ Without this primary feeling we are nothing…”

Albert Einstein 1919

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Wishing you an inspired and beautiful day

Some of you told me you figured that was because I’d become enamored with Twitter and had decided to spend all my on-line time there.

While I indeed find Twitter an excellent place to write, read, and connect - Twitter isn’t why I haven’t been here.

I am fortunate to have a lovely creek bordering one side of my property. In 2008 I was delighted to learn that the creek was to be part of a 2009 project to remove barriers to migrating salmon. All I needed to do was give permission for the work to proceed.

There were of course many discussions with the Natural Resource Department about what land areas would be impacted and how the work would get done.

In the course of these discussions the opportunity arose for me to photograph the project at all 17 of its sites, which I most wholeheartedly pursued.

Over the next weeks & months I’ll do a series of posts about different aspects of this wonderful project.

I’ll share some of my project photos with you, I’ll include some of the things I’ve learned, and I’ll tell you a bit about the wonderful people I met. It would be great if you would let me know any questions you have, or if you are interested in any aspect of the work that I don’t seem to be covering. I’ll do my best to find & pass on the info you’re after.

For today, I’d like to share a video with you. It is about 11 minutes long, and was done by a local documentary film company to help the natural resource folks continue to obtain funding for this important work.

Speaking of funding, I want to tell you something I think is very important.

This work was funded almost entirely by grants from various organizations and by reparation monies from utility companies that placed hydroelectric dams on the big rivers in this area of Washington state.

The lion’s share of the $$ did not come out of taxpayer pockets, and it did not come from loans that must be repaid.

To my way of thinking, in these times of astronomical deficits and taxpayer funded bailouts it is important to highlight and encourage projects that benefit the planet, provide plentiful good-wage jobs, and do not increase our burden of debt. I believe this kind of watershed and habitat restoration work is important for the planet, the people on it, and our economies. I will continue to seek opportunities to contribute in any ways that I can.

Enjoy the video, I think it makes a nice introduction to the topic.

Oh, and I should mention that I appear in this video in a couple of places, in case you’re interested

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Chelan County Salmon Restoration from Howell at the Moon Productions on Vimeo.

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For me, whether that search is out the window, through my lens, in the stroke of a brush, or into my interior it is almost always fruitful. From my perspective, we are surrounded by an infinity that is constantly evolving. A place where everything is always imbued with renewal.

No two moments in the universe are ever the same, and in this reality lies magic beyond that which any incantation might evoke.

This kind of creative searching has its place; is essential even, but it isn’t the topic of this post.

Today I want to write a bit about that other kind of inspiration. The kind of inspiration that comes calling of its own accord.

Like a first snowflake settling on the still green grass, it can herald an oncoming wave, or simply one fleeting drop. Regardless its form or duration, it is unfailingly a delightful rush.

I absolutely love getting caught up in the flow of something new.

Recently I was accosted by a poem written by a friend and it sparked the immediate need for me to draw.

I was stunned to find that what I was drawing was a mandala.

I haven’t created a mandala of any kind in more than a decade. And if I had thought about why not, I might have said that my work had evolved—had moved in new directions.

Which just goes to show how wrong a person can be.

Below you’ll find my first new visual piece of 2010. It was inspired by this wonderful poem by Marianna Paulson:

Living. Breathing.

Breathing. Living.

Inspiritus -
inspiration -
spirit.

Awaken. Breathe. Live.

Now.

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You can find Marianna at her website, blog, and on twitter.

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Here is the image inspired by Marianna’s wise, beautiful, mantra-like poem.

I hope you will enjoy the viewing as much as I enjoyed the creating.

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title - breathe life - by Kayt Hoch

I suspect mandalas may be making a new visitation to my creative life, time will tell on that.

Truth is, I still feeling like drawing. And the energy buzzing my fingers feels a lot more like a wave beginning to roll, than one lonely drop from an otherwise pale blue sky.

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tech stuff - in case you care

The drawing was created from blank screen using Photoshop CS3 software. All elements of the piece were hand-drawn, (using a Wacom Intuos3 tablet) combined with two gradients (created by me), and integrated using various blending modes and transparency levels.

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I’ve done a new image inspired by a friend’s poem and I was going to post both. But, of course, my WP file uploader is having a lie down and won’t upload my image file.

So, I thought I’d share this instead - in some inexplicable way, it fits my mood tonight.  I hope to be back soon with the fore mentioned post.

’till then -

Fave pick #1

gather the cracked and brittle shards /…

therer2doors - aka - Angie Werren

I really liked how this poem juxtaposed opening sharpness with the softness of a new day dawning, and how beautifully it balances an underlying hope against the realism and angst of doubt. Poetically, I really like the spareness of the piece and that each and every word is critical to the poem. Overall I get the sense of trying to recover something that has broken, which is powerfully impacting and effective (for me).

Thanks for the wonderful contribution Angie.

Fave pick #2

frothing stacked goblets/…

Kate_TW - aka Kate Temple-West

This poem really got me with its vivid visual imagery that is paired perfectly (for me) with the innuendo I read in the poem.

The whole piece calls to my mind the image of a wedding, guests attired to the nines about to toast the happy couple. But, there is something dark and edgy lurking around that the speaker in the poem knows about. Perhaps one of the happy couple was spied 20 minutes ago in the back seat of the limo with the others best friend? I of course don’t know what the poet had in mind, but there are myriad possibilities, and the poem ignites my imagination to try and conjure up what underlies the rich imagery of this scene. I find that very compelling and enjoyable indeed.

Thank you Kate, for your wonderful contribution.

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Rules?

Now, being that I am awfully fond of discarding most rules as I see fit, I have to tip my hat to our leading resident rule breaker Carlton Halpert for the stunning use of all 91 poetwist200 words. Sigh…I can only say, I wish I’d have thought of trying it myself.

Not that I could have rivaled in anyway, the ballad of baxter which is comprised of 12 haiku interlacing potentially autobiographical facets of the mysterious Baxter. The sense of the sureal in this is as profound, as it is enchanting.

My personal fave chapters are 3 & 12, but I find the whole greater even than the sum of its wonderful haiku-vignette components. The incomplete mosaic of the character writing is beyond intriguing. Perhaps there will be more messages home from Baxter? We can only hope…

Thanks Carlton for the inspiring, wonderful contribution - I really do hope we hear more from Baxter.

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Most Words Used

Well, wouldn’t you know - we have three-way tie for most words used.

So here they are, all tweeting in at 14 of the poetwist200 words in a single tweet. And they all achieved this feat while still saving space to include the poetwist hash tag. Very impressive.

Back just in time for the 200th prompt - jeremylewit - with:  blind as limbo/…

And a very new writter in the poetwist crowd - Kate_TW  - with:  again in limbo/…

Finally, one of our long standing poetwist regulars - tumblewords - with:  novice faith in limbo/…

Hmm, limbo limbo limbo - wonder what’s up with that…

Thanks and congratulations to everyone for making this such a wonderful celebration of the 200th poetwist prompt. Here’s hoping we’ll all be writing and reading together for another 200 at least

Cheers & ta!

All the info you need is in a short PDF here:  poetwist200.pdf

For my blog buddies who don’t do the Twitter gig, I’d really love for you to participate too, so if you’re into this please go for it and leave your ‘tweet’ in the comments here. Remember, a tweet is a maximum of 140 characters long.

Wishing everyone a wonderful time with today’s write - I’m already looking forward to reading everything

We’re having a little tw’elabration for the 100th poetwist writing prompt on twitter, and everyone’s invited whether you tweet or not.

You can either join in here at The Pedestrian Crossing or over on twitter - whatever gig you’re into. I really hope to see you, one place or the other.

The First 95 is a link to a pdf containing the first 95 word prompts I posted on twitter.

So, here’s the deal. Write a micropoem, or piece of microprose using as many of the first 95 words as you can within the 140 character limit.

If you’re tweeting, you’re used to the 140 character gig, and for those of you blogging you can count characters (140 max including spaces & punctuation), or you can write up to 20 words - which won’t be exactly the same, but close enough.

Tweeple, I’ll see you on twitter.

Bloggers, if you would post your microwrites in the comments here I’ll check back in a few days so I can reply to everyone who writes

I’m looking forward to reading everyone’s wonderful creations!!

Things that don’t even seem to be in one’s recall, but somewhere in the archives of our feelings they sit there—waiting for us to notice.

I was cleaning out a storage space in my studio last week and happened upon a couple of framed prints. They were two of my first fully digital creations, and the first two pieces I had tried my hand at framing. In the years since, different prints of both pieces have been framed more professionally (again by me, after getting some framing education), in a style suitable for gallery showing.

The show pieces were well received and those that didn’t sell came home and adorned my walls. They looked fine and I didn’t think much more about it. In the ensuing years, some more of the pieces were sold, one was loaned and the walls developed bare spaces that I noticed now and again. But I was busy.

So, when I found those aging, less than perfect, dusty examples of my work I was delighted. I sure wasn’t too busy to dust them off and go park them on the naked picture hooks still punctuating my balding walls.

It was nice to see them out in the light again, but that wasn’t what really stuck me. It was the sound that pulled me up short and resonated a warm chord in my heart. I had completely forgotten how they sound.

The ‘gallery’ style framings I had done were glazed with standard window glass. But in my first framings, I had used a type of acrylic glazing.

And acrylic glazing flexes a lot more than glass as the environment around it changes. And when it flexes, it can make a wonderful light percussive sound, a bit similar to the sound a clock pendulum makes.

The sound is not metered of course, but it is not really random either. As the day warms and cools, sunlight filters in and moves on, or the rain falls saturating the air the acrylic glazing responds with a tick here and a tock there.

The sounds of these two images are soothing, reassuring, and delightful to me. The sounds remind me of the earliest days of my career move to full time art & writing, they remind me of furniture and pets that used to be, and they make me smile as I recall trying to figure out where those sounds were coming from when I first hung the pieces.

Mostly though, the sound of each print reminds to pay attention.

Reminds me that surprising things can come from very unexpected sources, and the sounds remind me of my history—which somehow fills me with a sense of wonder and joy about my today. I can’t explain that last bit, but I am endlessly grateful for the gift.

Today is the only today that I get and anything that helps me pay attention to it is nothing short of manna from heaven.

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May you have a wonderful today - each and every day.

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a stone rolled down a steep embankment. it was the size of a small child’s fist, and was the color of ruddy-brown bricks with gently sparkling patches of ebony here and there over its surface. on top of the embankment all the stones looked pretty much this way.

the small stone landed in the ditch below the embankment unharmed. the stone looked around and saw that all the stones here in the ditch were colored yellow caramel-brown. and there were not so many stones here as above. the stone tried to say hello to one of the stones nearest but the odd colored ditch stone did not answer.

after a couple of days the embankment stone felt lonely. and in its want of companionship it came up with an idea. the embankment stone surmised that no one was speaking to it because it looked so different. so the stone rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled so it was covered with the dirt from the ditch. and this worked just as planned. covered in dirt, the embankment stone looked quite a bit like all the other stones in the ditch.

soon after this, one of the ditch stones tumbled by. the ditch stone asked the embankment stone if it had noticed what had happened to the beautiful newcomer with the shiny black spots. the embankment stone delightedly replied ‘oh yes, I am that stone. I rolled down from above.’ and the ditch stone laughed and laughed saying ‘silly, you are just the same as us all.’

the ditch stone rolled away tittering. the embankment stone could hear the sniggering from the other ditch stones as the story of their conversation was told and retold. the embankment stone felt even more lonely then. and try as it might no matter how it rolled or scooted, the dirt covering it stayed firmly in place. it had done a great job with its camouflage.

so many lonely days passed that the embankment stone lost count. all the ditch stones made a wide path clear of it in their rolling about the ditch. sometimes the stone heard whispers of ‘crazy’ and ‘dangerous’ as the rough shaped ditch stones went by at a distance. for a while the stone tried to say hello when new stones came near. but no one ever answered and at last it gave that up too.

the sun was high and hot for most of the time and the pale-brown dirt now covering the embankment stone felt permanently baked on. and sometimes, for just a moment, the stone forgot what it really was underneath.

and then dark clouds came. and the rain fell so hard the stone could not see if it was night or if it was day. and when the sun finally broke through the clouds, the embankment stone was washed clean and gleaming.

and in its surprised happiness, the stone began to call out. the stone called to the ditch stones. asked them to look and see what had happened. to look and see that it had been telling the truth all along.

but only quiet returned the calls of the stone. and so the stone took its view away from itself and looked in every direction—finding there was no stone anywhere in sight. the rain that had so splendidly washed the stone clean, brought it home to itself, had washed the ditch stones entirely away.

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inspired in part by the SES prompt: falling slowly

My sincere thanks to everyone who gave me input on the questions in the previous post. Your kind advice and support are very much appreciated, and I’ve left replies to all of your wonderful comments in the previous thread.

Going forward, I’ll be doing a lot less reply writing. I am hoping for the day when things are less hectic and I can re-evaluate that decision, but for now this is how it needs to be. Be assured, it is a time management necessity rather than a lack of desire or appreciation.

I will, as always, be reading every comment. I always love what you have to say.

snail mail address change

my snail mail address has changed - I’ve exchanged physical mail with some of you - so if you would, please check the contact page for the new address and update your records -

Thanks again & sending best energy!