The View from 10,000 Feet

twojackI went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain.
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in a crooked line.
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.

–Indigo Girls

Sometimes you need a little perspective.  Recently, my family and I traveled to the Canadian Rockies to see the mountains and the wildlife, and to take some pictures.

In middle age, I had forgotten to take into account the altitude and the toll it would take on our bodies.  So that was a bit of a shock to get used to…harder to breathe and exercise, less stamina.  For people who normally live at 500 ft. sea level, a week at 5000 feet was a bit rough. It’s subtle however.  You don’t really feel anything at first, it kind of sneaks up on you.  And we spent  a lot of time going up and down mountains as well, so we were much higher than 5000 feet at many times.

But the thing that stayed with me the most was the lovely quiet.  Standing at the top of a mountain, I had a moment, and one that will stay with me for a long time.  The trees and the mountains, so majestic, were perfectly natural in their environment.  The wildlife, so real and unfettered in its surroundings, was also natural.  The only thing for as far as I could see, that was not comfortable and completely natural in this environment, were humans.

We are the disturbers.

In order for us to be there, we have to change the environment.  We have to chop the trees and move the mountains for our roads and buildings.  We tear up the earth for ski runs and paved trails.  We carve a way so that more of us can come through and enjoy the scenery.  And the more of us that are in any given place, the further everything gets from its natural state.

A little depressing.

In fairness, Parks Canada does a remarkable job in the National Forests to protect everything.  In fact, they would much rather scare off the humans than disturb a bear doing its bear thing.  I think that’s admirable. I think it’s necessary.  Because it seems to me that we are the ones who can cause the problems. We are the ones that disturb the balance of nature. We are the ones who interfere, who travel with all our RV’s and campers and rental cars.  We are the ones purchasing souvenirs, bringing our lunches into campgrounds, making garbage. A bear on the side of the road can cause a traffic jam for half a mile, with people jumping out of their cars trying to get a picture, creeping right up to the animal with their cars, crowding, crowding, crowding.

Don’t get me wrong. We did the same thing.  Are you kidding?  Of course we stopped to see a bear eating along the roadside.  But we were not part of the crowd that was walking up to a wild animal.

Truly, it was  an amazing trip with a view that we could not imagine, being from the flatlands of the midwest. But it really pointed out to me how uncomfortable and intrusive we humans can be.  It’s good to see that the world holds vast places where we are small and insignificant. And that the wildness and the wilderness do just fine without us.

I’m adding a gallery of some of our pics:

My Obsession with Trees

I didn’t realize it until I tried to describe some of my projects to someone, and all the ones that reflected my own art and not just a pattern designed by someone else, usually included trees.

And if not trees, then at least something that grows in the ground.  I can’t tell you what it means, except that I have a deep longing to connect to the earth.

I recently pre-ordered a book that has apparently been wildly popular in Europe:  “The Hidden Life of Trees — What They Feel, How They Communicate — Discoveries from a Secret World, ” by Peter Wohlleben.

An article from the NYTimes  profiles the German forest ranger’s book.

I’ve always known that the natural world — birds, animals, trees, gardens —  have more to teach us than we ever give them credit for.  In the woods, I learned to listen, and look…much more than I ever do in my daily busy-ness.

Art is a struggle.  We are reaching, reaching, always striving to capture the thing beyond ourselves.  I do believe that trees (as well as the rest of nature) try to teach us something. When I break through the barrrier and discover the lesson, I will let you know.

Until then, like most of us, I continue to be a student.

close upIMG_3294

Multi-hoop project is quilted, bound and finished.

Multi-hoop project is quilted, bound and finished.


Thank You Robert Frost


The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Cedar Waxwing. Is this not a stunning bird?

Cedar Waxwing. Dozens of them.



Opening Our Eyes

Sometimes, I find the most stunning beauty right in front of my nose. Often enough, I’m sure I miss the moment, preoccupied with the trivialities of the day, the busyness of life. But every now and then a moment sticks, and I’m able to transfer, if not the actual beauty of a thing, than at least my interpretation of something I once thought was beautiful.

I thought I’d share a couple of landscape quilts. The first was from several years ago.  I seem to have an ongoing fascination with trees.   Living in the midwest, trees, sky and grasses are our landscapes. So that’s my focus. Occasionally, we’re lucky enough to find a bluff, or even a small hill, usually near a river. As much as I try to let abstractions come through, I still have a tendency toward realism. I’m working on it.

Last year, I met some friends for coffee in a coffee shop in a small town nearby. Quaint, cozy and lovely.  As I waited for them to show, I gazed out the window at the chilly November view.  I did a little sketch on the notepad I had with me.  That sketch turned into this wall hanging. (yes, those are my toes at the bottom)

Lately, I’ve been experimenting with Spoonflower. If you haven’t checked out this website, you really should. What a hoot.  You can download any graphic or photo and turn it into fabric —  a fatquarter, a yard or 10 yards, depending on what you want to pay.

I printed up a couple of yards of this fabric. If you look closely, you’ll see that this is actually a B/W picture of reeds and their reflection in a very calm lake. The graphic on the fabric makes a wonderful nature-inspired abstract. I’m still not sure what to do with this fabric, but I’ll think of something in time. For now, I just get a kick out of knowing it’s designed from my photo.