Tag: art

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To See Takes Time

Georgia O’Keeffe watercolor

One of my big inspirations in New York City was the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibit at MoMA, titled “To See Takes Time.”

O’Keeffe is best known for her gorgeous flower paintings, but the focus of this exhibit was her watercolors and drawings in pencil, charcoal, and pastel. These are mostly works on paper and it was clear from the exhibit notes and quotes that she was having just so much fun with each medium she used. I found the joy she expressed about using all of these different media contagious. I couldn’t wait to start playing around with all of these things that I already had at home but rarely used.

Charcoal

Here’s what she wrote (in a letter, I believe) about that particular time in her artist’s journey: “I decided to start anew–to strip away what I had been taught, to accept as true my own thinking. This was one of the best times of my life. There was no one around to look at what I was doing, no one interested, no one to say anything about it one way or another. I was alone and singularly free . . . no one to satisfy but myself. I began with charcoal and paper and decided not to use any color until it was impossible to do what I wanted to do in black and white. I believe it was June before I needed blue.”

My biggest inspirations in art seem to come from artists whose work expresses joy in some way. Joy in the doing, as she expressed, joy in the beauty of the work, joy in the colors and shapes. This work of hers and what she wrote about it touched my spirit in all of these ways.

Pastel

I have come home and played with charcoal, crayons, and pastels more than I had done for a long time. I’ve played around in my sketchbooks, which I often neglect. I’ve had fun and discovered a few things, but I’m itching to do more. I want to carry her spirit of joyful experimentation into all of what I do.

And isn’t that just life? There’s always something new to learn and someone new to take inspiration from, even if that person is teaching you to “accept as true” your own ideas about your art, your own way of thinking, your own creativity.

So this is my imperative. Play, create, follow my own threads, find my joy (not unlike the name and focus of the Louise Fletcher course that got me painting in the first place) and accept as true my own ideas for my own art.

“I long ago came to the conclusion that even if I could put down accurately the thing I saw and enjoyed, it would not give the observer the kind of feeling it gave me. I had to create an equivalent for what I felt about what I was looking at–not copy it.” – Georgia O’Keeffe

“Interest is the most important thing in life; happiness is temporary, but interest is continuous. – Georgia O’Keeffe

“Imagination makes you see all sorts of things.” – Georgia O’Keeffe

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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The City So Nice They Named It Twice

Windows at LaGuardia Airport

New York New York, what a wonderful town! I am just back from storied NYC, where I soaked up time with my sons along with museum after museum, and loads of inspiration for painting.

The bridges! The skyline! The murals! The parks! The hubbub! The art. The inimitable spirit of New York City never fails to give me a boost. We went to The Met, aka The Embarrassment of Riches, the first night and again on that last, extra day given to me by the rain and Southwest Airlines. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We went to MoMA, the Brooklyn Museum, Dia (in Beacon NY), Christie’s Auction House, the Morgan Library and the Natural History Museum (full of nature’s art).

African textiles at the Brooklyn Museum

I’ve come home feeling almost too full. Van Gogh’s Cypresses at the Met, Georgia O’Keeffe’s watercolors and drawings at MoMA, the AI art of Rafik Anadol at MoMA, the huge iron pieces of Richard Serra at Dia, the musical instruments so artfully displayed at The Met (everything so beautifully displayed at The Met!), all the art everywhere. So many many things to take in and embrace. I was inspired by colors and shapes and yet I feel almost too full, not sure where to go with all of it.

I had thought I’d come home and paint a series of pieces in indigo blue and orange, having been captivated by the African fabrics against an orange wall. But what about the black and white pieces that I loved? And the sumptuous play of colors in that mind-blowing AI installation? What of O’Keeffe’s adventures with watercolor, charcoal, and pastels, one medium after another?

The beautiful Chrysler Building at dusk, across the East River

I loved ALL of it. I want to DO all of it. Yet time rushes by. Like the East River, it just keeps moving. And apparently, one needs to assimilate back into regular life. One must manage meds for the elderly dogs, schedule piano lessons for the school year, buy groceries, do laundry, somehow figure out what to do for one’s tiny business, tackle the weeds in the yard, imagine how a new floor might be put in the kitchen . . . All the things. So many things. All the things of regular life that one joyfully puts aside while off exploring.

This is how we do when we go away and come back home. And it means that we’re lucky to have the going away as well as the home to return to.

Yet the indigo blue and orange seduce me. The black and white. Glorious gobs of color, too. The urge to explore with all the media. I don’t want to lose that energy. It feels fragile, tenuous. I don’t want it to slip and fall beneath all the things.

“Did you ever have something to say and feel as if the whole side of the wall wouldn’t be big enough to say it on, and then sit down on the floor and try to get it onto a sheet of charcoal paper?” – Georgia O’Keefe

“As for New York City, it is a place apart. There is not its match in any other country in the world.” ― Pearl S. Buck

“To see takes time.” – Georgia O’Keeffe

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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. . . and I Am Brave

I am home from all my travels, home from California, home from Taiwan. I could tell and tell about it but in some ways, I haven’t the words.

I wrote before I left about my fears around this trip. I had many. I was afraid the long flight would be awful and that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I wasn’t. I was afraid I wasn’t in shape enough for the bike trip. I was! I was afraid something dreadful would happen, in a country where I had zero ability to speak or read the language. It didn’t.

So when we came upon this sculpture, with this title, during our first amazing day of the bike journey, I was enchanted. “I am brave.” I hadn’t been feeling brave. I had balked at riding city bikes in the busy streets of Taipei and Taichung, with throngs of scooters, cars, trucks, and people. I did not feel brave, but I did it. I had moments of “I can’t do it” when we picked up our rental bikes and I found my “extra small” e-bike too big to get comfortably on and off of. I was afraid of falling in traffic or anywhere, and breaking a hip, like an old lady. And then I panicked when I read a couple of comments online about how scary the coastal route–our route–could be.

But I knew I could trust my son. He had made all the plans. He is a skilled traveler and cyclist. He was my guide. We set off, in this gorgeous land where all those drivers of scooters, cars and trucks really do watch out for cyclists, where there are miles and miles of beautiful dedicated bikeways, where bike lanes accompany practically every street and highway, where the many bicycle routes for traversing Taiwan are well-marked, where cyclists are warmly welcomed nearly everywhere. Bicycling is the national pastime in Taiwan and that is very apparent.

I would like to write more about the country and the trip in my next letter. It has been so much for me to absorb. I’ll let this one express my gratitude that my son made this happen for me and gave me the chance to be brave. This was much more than travel for me. It was transformative. I’ve learned that I can be fearful of a thing–anxious, worried, even envisioning terrible things–and yet still go ahead and do it, ultimately finding it utterly exhilarating. I once was better friends with that concept than I have been of late. It has been wonderful for me to revisit it.

Thank you, Cole.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” – Nelson Mandela

“Courage conquers all things: it even gives strength to the body.” – Ovid

“In all realms of life it takes courage to stretch your limits, express your power, and fulfill your potential.” – Suze Orman

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Eyes Mind Heart

Barbara Kruger installation at MoMA

We hear all the time about the mind/body connection. What about the New York eye/brain/heart connection?

I recently returned from another fabulous trip to see my sons who live in New York. The City is jam-packed with everything. Everything. Okay, there are no mountains, so everything but mountains. Whenever I go, I’m met with a muchness that invigorates first my eyes, then my brain, and then my heart. Looking at something like that amazing Barbara Kruger installation (above), I feel my eyes widen and my brain open right up. And after that, my heart. Love. There is so very much to love.

The fashions!

Honestly, you don’t need to step into a museum to get the eye/brain/heart love. It’s in the street art, the hilarious or heartbreaking signs and graffiti, the juxtaposition of trees with skyscrapers, the many beautiful parks, the skyline at night, old and new buildings standing right next to each other, the beautiful bridges, loads of short-legged dogs, wild Halloween decorations on the beautiful brownstones, the surprise of sculpture in subway stations, even the digital (no longer neon) craziness of Times Square, and of course the fashions! All of it, so inspiring! So energizing! Nourishment for the eye. Eye to brain to heart.

I never fail to come home full of possibility and light, eyes stuffed with color and wonder, a serotonin-filled brain imagining all kinds of projects and pursuits, a heart full of love for my own sons and, too, for all of those enterprising, creative individuals who make New York the remarkable place it is.

Begging the question: What will I do with all of this energy coursing through my creative brain, more than a week later? We shall see.

Sure, the City would feel quite different were my sons not there with me, and I’m sure NYC has its share of lonely people, not to mention desperate and homeless. But for me, lucky as I am and for a week or so, it is a fat purse that never empties.

“I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world’s greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.” – Nora Ephron

“New York is not a city. It’s a world.” – Iman

“When it’s 100 degrees in New York, it’s 72 in Los Angeles. When it’s 30 degrees in New York, in Los Angeles it’s still 72. However, there are 6 million interesting people in New York, and only 72 in Los Angeles.” – Neil Simon

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Meeting Your Heroes

Maira Kalman, illustrator and author

I met one of my longtime art and book heroes last week at my favorite book store in the world.

When my son, Peter, was maybe ten years old, a good friend of mine gave him the book, Hey Willy, See the Pyramids by Maira Kalman. We all loved the zany little book with her crazy illustrations. My favorite part of the book goes like this:

“What is nothing?” I ask.

“Nothing is when you are given a very small portion of ice cream by an adult, and you look at the plate and at the adult and you ask for more and the adult says you have a huge portion and you say ‘That’s it? That’s nothing.’

“And that is nothing,” says Lulu.

That book was the beginning of a long love affair with all things Maira Kalman. I bought her children’s books for my sons. I bought her adult books–often a mix of humor, beauty, and sadness–for myself. My son, Cole, has gifted me with several of her books, some signed, as well as a Kate Spade purse decorated with Maira’s drawing. Most recently, he orchestrated a gift from my three boys of her “cosiette,” a hand embroidered piece of linen from her drawings, set into a tray. I have seen her exhibits at the Jewish Museum in San Francisco, the Jewish Museum in New York City, and galleries in NYC.

But I had managed to miss her appearances in NYC, including, on one visit, a talk at the NY Public Library just one hour after my plane left for home. I once emailed her, to see if she’d be speaking anywhere and she very kindly replied no, not this time.

The Strand book store, in New York City’s East Village, boasts 18 miles of books on its many shelves. Included in the 18 miles is the rare book room on the third floor, where author talks are held. Maira was scheduled to speak about her newest book, Women Holding Things, as well as showing the paintings from it at a gallery in Chelsea, all during my visit! Oh joy! Peter got tickets to the talk, including a copy of the book, and we heard her speak from front row center seats.

They say you should never meet your heroes. But I was not disappointed. We hold the same views on many things. She “falls in love with 50 things” every day. She loves walking. Values her time alone. Loves cake. She does not read the news (I do read a little)–only the obits. But she knows what goes on in the world and she takes an active role in doing good, selling limited edition booklets for $100 apiece to raise money for causes that I, too, hold dear.

As she signed my copy of her book, I yammered on, telling her all the things, about Hey Willy and all the books, about my boys, the Kate Spade purse, the cosiette, her kind email, all in a big rush, knowing there were others waiting and I was lucky, so lucky to be there with my sons, both of them snapping photos. She was great and lovely and very kind.

The next day we went to see the gallery show of “Women Holding Things.” Another lovely piece of the Maira Kalman adventure. That trip filled me up in so many ways. This was one of them. Finally I’d met one of my heroes.

“My dream is to walk around the world. A smallish backpack, all essentials neatly in place. A camera. A notebook. A traveling paint set. A hat. Good shoes. A nice pleated (green?) skirt for the occasional seaside hotel afternoon dance.”― Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty

“Everyone I know is looking for solace, hope and a tasty snack.”― Maira Kalman

“On the wall was a dress that I embroidered. It said “Ich Habe Genug.” Which is a Bach Cantata. Which I once thought meant “I’ve had it, I can’t take anymore, give me a break.” But I was wrong. It means “I have enough.” And that is utterly true. I happen to be alive. End of discussion. But I will go out and buy a hat.” ― Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Process Painting

I just tried something I’d never heard of before. It’s called Process Painting, and it’s a combo of meditation and painting. I watched a brief demo by Patty Ripley in my online art group and I couldn’t wait to try it. It’s a process whereby you meditate and then paint, letting whatever comes up within you lead you. The aim is not to make a painting–but spiritual, personal growth. Well, this hits my two biggest things of late. As we all know, carpentry is not one of those. No, dummy! Meditation and painting!

Patty states: “I devote to the healing power of art. It isn’t about making the final product yet more about the process. It’s about connecting with the spirit within and channeling that. It’s about allowing the narrative to be fueled by emotion, sensation and landscape. All is welcome here.” It might sound woo-woo and it is. Right up my alley!

I bought some kids’ paints and poster board, taped two pieces together to make a nice big surface on my wall, and began. First, I listened to her meditation and then I let loose. I should say that my painting is normally fairly free to start with. But here, there is absolutely no imperative to show what you make or to make a pleasing painting or to follow any rules at all. The idea here, though, is to let anything at all come up from within you. Emotions, thoughts, reactions to the meditation, reactions to the colors and the paints, responses to whatever you’ve just put down. And then just follow.

I started with brushes, even skinny ones, which I normally avoid because of my shaky hands. But the paint was a lot like finger paint, so I started using my fingers. Much more fun and freeing.

And then I shut out the little voice that says one should not make the same mark again and again in a single painting, so I just went all out with circles. Circles circles circles! I love circles and I put them into my paintings all the time.

Why? Hmm. I had to think about this. Circles are unending, symbols of life and infinity. They seem to float, like bubbles, which are perfect and ephemeral (thank you, Lynn) and therefore precious; a treat; a gift. They are happy, simple shapes. They represent love (xo). They are happiness.

And there was more that I won’t go into because it was really just for me. Just as when you try it, it will be just for you. I will do it again. It was a beautiful, opening experience for me.

“Devoting to your energetic being will help you reconnect with the pure essence that you are.” – Patty Ripley

“This true essence is beyond the ego. It is fearless; it is free; it is immune to criticism; it does not fear any challenge. It is beneath no one, superior to no one, and full of magic, mystery, and enchantment.” – Deepak Chopra

“Magic happens here.” – Patty Ripley

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. If you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Painting for Happiness

My most recent painting that I love

I feel like I have only peripherally written in these letters about painting, even though it is my newest and strongest love. It has kept me from planting even one thing in my flower bed, now overrun with onions, dandelions and who knows what else? I say who knows because I haven’t taken five minutes to really look. Painting could possibly be blamed for my now sketchy exercise routine, the state of my house and yard, recent late bill payments, failure to get my van ready to sell, and even the sorry state of my studio.

Painting, looking at others’ paintings, listening to podcasts about painting, thinking about painting, taking free online painting workshops, and watching videos about painting have increasingly taken over my life. And it makes me happy!

I’m not sure, though, why I’ve been hesitant to talk much or write about it. Well, there are those judgements we all make against ourselves, especially with creative endeavors. I’m only learning. I’m not that good. I’m not there yet. But why would I have to be great at it to tell that this is my newest passion? I feel an awkwardness when people ask, “What have you been up to lately?” My honest answer would be “painting,” but I often feel shy about saying so. I think maybe it seems a bit self-important or arrogant to tell it. But why? When I started playing pickleball, I’d tell anyone who would listen how much I loved it. But somehow to say that I’m painting feels awkward, feels like people wouldn’t understand, feels like I’m saying I’m Picasso.

Couldn’t I allow myself the grace to tell about something I’m doing that I love? It would seem so. If one paints, couldn’t one be called a painter, whether or not one is accomplished at it?

Here I am at the end of last summer’s course, among all the work I did.

I don’t believe I’m alone in feeling shy or insecure about painting, though. In the Find Your Joy online painting course I took in the summer of 2021 and in the online artists’ community I belong to, fear is a big topic. Not so much fear of telling but of failing, looking ridiculous, fear of never creating something beautiful or meaningful. Art somehow brings up a whole set of insecurities in humans. Many of us create because we want to be seen or heard (loved). For all of us, what we create is a part of us. To put your creation out into the world is scary. What if no one loves it (me)? Yikes!

But art should be freeing! It should make your spirit soar. And in the past few weeks, I have found that with painting. Not only do I love it while I’m doing it, but I’m loving what comes of it and I’m feeling more and more eager to show and to tell. So here you are. I’m telling. And if you happened to come to my house, I’d pull you into my studio to show. This is my newest, biggest thing. Painting is a joyful pursuit. I love painting. I am a painter. That last is pretty scary to say but I figure I’ll just keep saying it. I am a painter. I am a painter. You could be a painter.

“Creativity takes courage. ” ― Henri Matisse

“To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.” ― Osho

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” ― Vincent Willem van Gogh

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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The Estate Sale

I am an estate sale shopper. I love them. As a home health nurse friend of mine once said, I like seeing inside other people’s homes. That is to say, I like seeing inside of the big old homes that usually host estate sales. And then I like looking through all of the interesting stuff that people have brought home from their travels, all of the art they’ve purchased, all of the minutiae and this and that, found, purchased and saved for God knows how long. Then, too, it’s interesting to imagine what all has gone on in those homes and with all of that stuff. What sort of parties did they throw with all of that fancy glassware? Who polished the silver?

I think I just went to one of the best ones I’ve ever been to. My favorite thing in the whole place was an upstairs bedroom, the one pictured above, with four dormers and four skylights. I imagined lying in bed under one of those skylights, looking at the night sky. Sigh. There were two doors in that room, one only about three feet high. Oh, what mischief a person could get up to in a little hideaway like that! A light switch and carpeting made it nice and comfy. What might I do or put in there if that were my little closet? A small stuffed chair and books, perhaps. A tea set. Or piles of pillows and books. There was another closet door, just tall enough for me to walk through, i.e. a little under 5’ tall. I went away wondering how I could make my own upstairs bedroom more like that one. Not possible, of course, but these things always seem possible to me in those moments.

Then there were all of the things! It took me a very long time to peruse everything. A lovely sunroom held a ship’s wheel, various model oceangoing ships, and other nautical treasures, as well as maps and blueprints. A Miro lithograph, signed by the artist, hung on one wall. $9600! A Chagall lithograph. Wow. Two of my favorite artists. A sitar. A whole long table filled with model train tracks, trains, and stuff to place all around the tracks. All kinds of art covering the walls. Interesting knickknacks from other lands. Jewelry, clothing, dressy shoes, scarves, purses. A box full of antique baby shoes. An ornate folding screen. A portable bar with lots of martini glasses. A child-sized silver coffee service.

We were allowed to go into the attic, too. More opportunity for the old (young) imagination to take over. In there I saw a whole set of antique robin’s egg blue luggage, including the cosmetics case. And a stack of lampshades that looked like a sculpture.

I bought only two things, “a bargain,” as my father used to say, “at half the price” (everything being half price on the second day). I brought home a Ganesh lunchbox that I adore and a vintage oversized paper copy of How to Draw and Paint Fashions, originally priced at $1. I went both days and each time left with a little spring in my step. I spent $7 total on two excursions that were full of fun and wonderment.

There sure are a lot of opportunities for exuberance and inspiration in the world. I like to take advantage of them whenever I can. What about you? What lights you up? I hope there are many things.

“Life is just a lot of everyday adventures.” ― Carol Ryrie Brink, Caddie Woodlawn

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Seeing

Hairy Vetch

Last summer I was out on my bike a lot, with my oldest son, home from New York City. We rode on the MKT trail a lot. Apparently, on many of those rides we rode past loads of this flower, Hairy Vetch, but I never noticed it. I say “apparently” because this year I’ve seen masses of it growing along that same trail. And I really doubt that it all just sprang up this year, out of nowhere. It is a lovely purple flower, too, quite eye catching.

I pride myself on noticing things, especially things in nature. And I started learning about wildflowers several years ago–observing, taking photos, looking them up in Missouri Wildflowers, posting photos on social media, etc. They are a particular love of mine. And yet this one, the great lovely banks of it, had eluded me.

This made me think about what other things I may be missing. What ideas, things, people, and places am I failing to notice? I’m sure there are quite a few. But I am also sure I’m not alone in this.

This little guy eluded me, too, until he was pointed out by a passing hiker.

I was lucky to hear Jon Kabat-Zinn give a talk some years ago, here in town. There were maybe a thousand people in the audience, as I recall. He showed a video, and asked us to count how many times the people in white clothing passed a basketball. There were people in black in the video, too, all of them moving around in front of an elevator. I concentrated very hard on counting. After the video stopped, he asked how many passes we counted. Then he asked if anyone had seen anything unusual. Maybe 3 or 4 people raised their hands. He played the video again, instructing us NOT to count, but just to watch. Unbelievably, about two thirds of the way through, the elevator door opened, revealing someone in a gorilla suit who stood there beating his chest. This was what only 3 or 4 among us had noticed?! This was stunning to me. How had I not seen that? Well, I was busy with a task that involved paying attention to only one thing. Even so, I found it hard to believe that I had missed that.

The phenomenon is called “selective attention.” We all have it at times, sometimes to our benefit but often not. His point was that sometimes we focus on negative things, things we struggle with or are sensitive to, and by focusing on them we create more trouble for ourselves. He is one of many who say that whatever we put our attention on grows stronger in our lives.

Sam Middleton, American 1927-2015

Because I love morel mushrooms, a few times in spring I have searched for them in the woods. The most I ever found was two. But worse than that, in looking for mushrooms, I failed to enjoy everything else that I normally would have seen, loved, and photographed. Focusing on that one thing took away from my joy of wandering in the woods. I no longer hunt morels.

On the other hand, scientists put razor sharp focus on a particular area of research and make important discoveries. People who get lost in creative pursuits can lose track of time and forget to eat. But they are deep in creative “flow,” which is rewarding, energizing, and wonderful.

Maybe last summer on those bike rides I was focusing on my son, our conversations as we rode along, and the enjoyment of being with him. That little flower was going to be here again this year, anyway. So now I’ve found it.

As with most things, there are both good and bad aspects to the little oddities of being human.

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

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Giant Sandbox

On my neighborhood walks I frequently make a point to walk past a particular home that is partway up a steep hill. I like the hill because when I try to keep going at my fast pace all the way up and over, it gets my heart really pumping. But the big draw for me is the lot at the bottom of the hill that is essentially an ever-changing woodland sculpture garden. The man who lives there keeps it all natural, using rocks, branches, fallen trees, and sticks to create wonderful sculptures without nails, saw, or other manmade objects. It’s just him and all he finds there. He calls it his “giant sandbox” and he says it’s relaxing and fun to putter about, building things in it.

“Creativity is intelligence having fun.” – Albert Einstein

I love that he and his wife have chosen to keep the property so charming and natural. The yard closer to the house is naturalized with native flowers and plants. This is her part. Both are just lovely. They feel no need to gather up all the sticks and branches and burn them or haul them off to the mulch site. Instead, he plays with them, creating mind-boggling balancing acts, stacks of sticks, and eye-pleasing arrangements, while she keeps the flowers going. I noticed the other day that some of the plants in the yard are labeled. Painted fern, hellebore, bluebell. Thank you.

I am certainly not alone in loving their yard and their work. Many of us walkers enjoy it. And the deer do, too.

I love it when people’s creative pursuits take them outdoors, where they’ll concoct something wonderful for all of us passersby to enjoy them. A treehouse with a rounded door. Crazy metal sculptures made from found objects. Fences dressed up with sticks and whatnot. House numbers all wonky by the front door. I love to see the unique ways people dress up their outdoor spaces. Everyone has a creative bone in their body, no matter what they say. We all just use it differently. And that’s what’s great.

“Everybody is talented because everybody who is human has something to express.” – Brenda Ueland

Unfortunately for me and all the other walkers who stop to look and maybe take photos, this property has been sold and a house will be built on the site of the Giant Sandbox. I suppose the couple who are leaving will be creating something new in a new place and other people will have the privilege of being inspired by them. For now, I’m still going by, taking photos and marveling at the ingenuity of the creative soul. And I’m thinking about what I might do in my own yard, just for fun.

“To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.” – Osho

“Serious art is born from serious play.” – Julia Cameron

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”