Posted on Leave a comment

List Making

Here’s the sketchbook in shadow, including one of Miles’ head

Challenge from our local arts group: purchase for $15 a small sketchbook, fill it up and return it for a Sketchbook Show in September. I considered, decided no, and then, partly because of my vow to enter every show this year, relented. I had also come up with an idea.

The sketchbooks are made of plain paper, not great for either painting or collage. Thus, my initial hesitation. I decided to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time: make a book of lists. So I’m off. La!

So far I’ve made a list of lists. I’ve taken paint to every other page, scraped on with credit cards. This is a thing I love to do. Then I shall handwrite the lists over or facing the painted pages. I might put in odd little drawings or . . . ? That’s the rough outline and anyway, once again, this little world is my oyster, so I can do anything I want.

I feel that with lists, one can go anywhere. Things Miles Likes to Eat. Favorite Books. Attributes of the East-Facing Window. Odd Words and Their Definitions. Dogs I’ve Loved. People I’ve Lost. My Thoughts on Death. Things I Do Every Morning. Things I Do on Sundays. Complaints. Worries About the World & My Little Piece of It. My Best Attributes. Things I Feel Guilty About. Etc.

Since these books will not be for sale (I don’t think) mine will make a nice compact record of this time in my life. I’m pretty excited about the project.

Doe and baby, right out back!

The books will be hung on the wall, open, so that patrons can look through them. The idea is to show your process as an artist. I don’t sketch, generally, so mine will show my process as a thinker. I do, as you may have guessed, have many thoughts.

The next show, actually coming up before the Sketchbook Show, will be “Lush,” meant to “celebrate the richness and vitality of the natural world.” As I typed those last few words, I heard a noise outside and turned to see a young spotted fawn cavorting across the yard. A doe and her two fawns are often out back, as well as a pair of barred owls. Yes, it’s pretty lush out there right about now. And this morning is cool enough to have the house open, leaf shadow dancing across my desk. Ahh. Richness and vitality, indeed.

“The list could surely go on, and there is nothing more wonderful than a list, instrument of wondrous hypotyposis.” ― Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

“We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That’s why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It’s a way of escaping thoughts about death. We make lists because we don’t want to die.” ― Umberto Eco

“Forget your to-do list and create a to-be list.”― Frank Sonnenberg, Listen to Your Conscience

“I love lists. Always have. When I was 14, I wrote down every dirty word I knew on file cards and placed them in alphabetical order. I have a thing about collections, and a list is a collection with purchase.” ― Adam Savage

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.”

Posted on Leave a comment

Wild Things

The coronavirus seems to have made more opportunities for wildlife to live in town, at least here in Columbia. Last year traffic in town was so light! My dogs and I could cross Broadway at almost any time of day without waiting at all. Last spring, to my complete delight, I started seeing red foxes in the neighborhood. I cannot begin to say how thrilled I’ve been to see them from time to time. And sometimes in the wee hours, they are out in the middle of the street barking. I recorded them one night. It’s a sound like no other.

We have barred owls nesting nearby and red-tailed hawks, too. The owls are especially fun to hear, calling out, “Who? Who? Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?” I often think I hear one right outside my bedroom window.

And the deer seemed to multiply in town last year. It became almost an everyday occurrence to see one or two or a family of deer in and around our yard. One doe in particular had a bad leg and was very thin. But it was the fawns, in their speckled coats, that stole our hearts. We often saw a family of two adults and two fawns out beyond the dog yard, sometimes lying peacefully or foraging for food, and quite often out in the street, bounding across to travel through the yards. Yes, they ate my beautiful lilies but I haven’t minded that much. I just love seeing them. My dogs had long ago given up barking at them and the deer were unimpressed by them, as well.

Yesterday morning took a bad turn, though. My dogs and I were returning from a short walk across Broadway, where we’ve also seen the deer family. A police car was stopped with lights flashing, right where we were about to walk. Then I saw that one of the fawns was lying in the grass there. The other one, across the street. Both yearlings had been hit by a car or cars. When? In the night or early morning? But both? How?

I had a rough morning. I told a few of the neighbors who also walk in that direction, so they would not have to see what I had seen. As much as we’ve loved seeing them in the neighborhood, we’ve worried for their safety. Our town has encroached on their wild area and while it’s been lovely for us to have them right in the neighborhood, it’s clearly not the best arrangement for them. So we need to be extra vigilant. They are here and we have a responsibility to keep them as safe as we can.

“The Fawn” by Mary Oliver

“Sunday morning and mellow as precious metal
The church bells rang, but I went
To the woods instead.

A fawn, too new
For fear, rose from the grass
And stood with its spots blazing,
And knowing no way but words,
No trick but music,
I sang to him.

He listened.
His small hooves struck the grass.
Oh what is holiness?

The fawn came closer,
Walked to my hands, to my knees.

I did not touch him.
I only sang, and when the doe came back
Calling out to him dolefully
And he turned and followed her into the trees,
Still I sang,
Not knowing how to end such a joyful text,

Until far off the bells once more tipped and tumbled
And rang through the morning, announcing
The going forth of the blessed.”

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.”

Posted on Leave a comment

Jumping

The other night I woke to my two dogs

barking incessantly from the foot of my bed

the catalyst a large white-tailed deer

standing at the corner of the yard

clearly debating what to do about

all the fences everywhichwhere

among the yards on my street.

What to do where to go what to do

which way to jump whether to jump at all.

I too am unsure what to do where to go

how to get there once I figure it all out

fences of another kind blocking.

But unlike that deer I have

short legs and am not much

of a one for jumping.