FROM THE ASHES.

Driving home from Oregon yesterday took seven and a-half hours. As I rolled into the county, local radio announced a burn of 450 acres near Mountain Ranch, the area that took the brunt of the Butte Fire. The Butte Fire is considered the worst for home losses in the state from a single fire.
The day before I left, I managed a quick trip to the local Arts Council Gallery for a look at their exhibit entitled History From The Ashes.
There is no joy in picking up cherished or simply common objects from your burned out property. Mostly sadness, tears and awe that anything recognizable survived the conflagration.

We know art is healing. And there is something about picking through the ashes that must be common to all of us. I watched on television as folks did just that after Katrina. The flood, destroyed as completely as fire.
When my house burned to the ground in Michigan, I remember finding  my melted marbles and my mother's  jar full of precious coins. The wafts of smoke coming from the ashes, the strong smell, the bent bed springs and melted cook stove didn't make me give up hope that I might find a heart shaped plastic locket my grandmother gave me that contained a tiny rosary. Of course, it couldn't possibly survive, but my 8 year self believed in miracles.

Items found, were given an artful setting of remembrance.

Or put together to form a sculpture or a mobile.

One survivor made a fabric wall hanging, with burned out spars of trees surrounded by wild flowers. A reality, wild flowers, rain fed, follow a burn.

Dead bushes and trees amid new grass on this canvas.

You can see my face reflected in the glass covering a spectacular photo by John Slot of the borate bomber releasing its chemical fire retardant.

And this photo by Katie Clark of a partially burned home with a surviving flag.

The most spectacular piece in the show is this shawl, positioned like an effigy with burned offerings at its feet. The shawl was made from the ties that bound hay bales distributed to land owners. Hay spread on bare ground, an effort to help prevent erosion. This artist washed and dyed the pieces. She softened them enough for weaving and wove this shawl.
It is a good feeling that something pretty, or remembered or useful rises from the ashes of despair and we can all see through to their recovery and healing, as art surpasses the ashes.

ANIMALSCAPES ART SHOW.

 

Hidden Giants by Lori Kelly.   The rules behind this competitive art show called Animalscapes, of Amador, Calaveras and Tuolumne counties, required depictions of animals from our area. I know we don't have elephants.

 

Chains to Flowers by Jim Sells.  A second elephant, embracing an unmistakable theme, and preciously done, reminded me that we do have elephants in Calaveras county, in the rescue acres at PAWS, the Performing Animal Welfare Society. They definitely live here.

 

Black Tail Deer by Laurie Williams.  The animals I see the most is deer.

 

Companions-Sifu Berchtold. And these pesty little beauties, the pileated woodpeckers.

 

Whee! By Juliana Tillman. Visitors can vote for a favorite. I spoke with an arts council friend who was a judge and she was surprised at the outcome. She did not reveal her choice as discretion is important in these things. None that placed would have been my picks. I find that happens a lot at art and quilt shows.  I quickly decided this one was going to be my fav. The opening event was one where you could meet the artist, and I met some of my favorite artists. Not all had an entry, but they do turn up for the arts.

 

Meet the artist, Juliana Tillman  I managed to corral the artist, I'd never met her before.

 

Spotted Owl-Forget Me Not, Diana Boyd.  There were many owls entered in the competition. Held at Kautz Winery, I learned that the Owl is the symbol of the Kautz Coat of Arms.

And, two real owls there to raise money for Wildlife Rescue organizations. This is a barn owl.

 

And this sawwhet owl is three years old and looks like a baby. She bites, the rescue worker told me. Her role in life is to tear her prey to bits and she is good at it. On an African Safari I took in 1997, that point was made so unforgettably clear, I could never again view deer as Bambi's nor lions as talking characters. The wild is something to respect and I never cross that line and feed wild animals. I love watching, though.

 

Bell Meadow Bears, Karen Nina Kling. Baby animals, no matter what specie, are adorable.

 

The Threat by Marta Magstrali.  Named the threat, huh!  The most petted piece in the show. You couldn't help but run your hands over this unique fellow.

The little mouse on his behind made me smile. What an enjoyable piece of art.


And, then I came upon the piece I voted for. This Horse Head by Larissa Stephenson. So real looking I wanted to reach out and pet its nose, even though the feel of velvet would be missing.


The show had a musician and young women passed out champagne and hors d'oeuvres. It was lovely and I'll see the show again when it moves to Amador County. I'm meeting a friend from Discovery Bay there for lunch next month.

 

I met Art Director, Susie Hoffman. I stopped her to take a picture of her feather earrings, very Native American looking. She bought them in Paris. She is director at Town Hall Arts, Galerie Copper in Copperopolis. She invited me to visit and I will get there one of these days. I love that I live in a community where the arts have such  great prominence. For the rest of my photos click the link below:

2016-1-15-AnimalScapesArtshow

ARTS AND CRAFTS IN ANACORTES

We spent an hour or so walking around Anacortes when we were there. The town is old, and pretty, in part because of the Anacortes Mural Project which I’ll blog about tomorrow.


A lot of fun shops, crafts, artwork, antiques, found stuff;  just the kind of eclectic stuff to make you happy and stir your own creative juices. Since I’ve done metal art, the license plate artists intrigue me. Where do they get those old license plates anyway I wonder?

Both pictures taken through the window, with a lot of annoying reflection. This guitar can actually be played.



It is fun to walk the downtown streets and find a full-sized character standing in a doorway.


As in real life, even the dog has his place. Don’t you just love it?


And who knows? Maybe the Bill Mitchell Mural inspired the city to get artistic with their real hydrants.  Adding a public drinking fountain, and some color. Why not?


The perfect mural for a saloon window.


And this brewer is right next to his brewery.


I’d like to take this crab home with me…


…and the chicken too. Just to see what my chickens might think of a bird this size. I cannot buy because stuff doesn’t fit in the motor home, so I just peek at all the fun stuff.


I was way overdue for an art fix. I stopped by AnchorArt Space, a gallery featuring the work of Sarah Denby and Andrea Joyce Heimer. The painting above is entitled “Windy, ain’t it? By Denby.


I’m a words and story person.  Heimer’s painting above had a story that went partly like this:  Laura falls in love with undeserving men…  You will have to visit to read the rest of the story which is written in pencil directly on the wall.


Cocktail hour by Denby.


“The donnybrook of 1989 took place in the community garden project…”  so goes the story with this painting by Heimer. I really liked the stories with each painting.


Vacation 1  by Denby.  There is a similarity to the two women’s work, to my eye. And, Denby can get very abstract. I liked her work with the least abstract best, but to all a different taste. Both women have websites if you are interested.

The Business, (since 1878) has a sculptured arch around the doorway. Just a walk around town is an art fix for me. Great place to visit.

PROJECTS AND PROGRESS.

I'm beastly busy as I get ready for my family & friends reunion over Independence Day weekend. Got the tubes out to be patched and blown up with the compressor.

Getting some long neglected yard clean-up done, since some people camp in tents under the trees. My old fruit ladder needs a new home. I hate to take it to the dump, but it is too heavy for me to use anymore.  Twelve feet high. Any takers?

No matter how busy I am, I have to take time for fun projects. It's just my nature.  To do that, I gather everything on my table where I won't put it aside. Like this old purse, dreary old khaki color, but with the amazing pockets handy for all items I like to carry, especially when I'm on the road with Jim and we are out for the day, hiking or wandering. My housemate can't understand my logic of forcing myself to complete a project by leaving the mess, paints, papers, etc. on the table. It works for me.  I finally completed the paint job, a cat on one side, some background brown.

Sad and happy faces on the front pockets. And, I'm blaming this need to paint on my friend Pam Munn who got me painting again, and now I've got the itch.

The end pockets are still pretty plain, but a painting is never finished. I can always go back and add some decorations when I have more time. Ah, me. To foil oneself into fun projects.
Now, hopefully, I can make progress on shopping for a comparable car to replace my electric.  The possibility of a "total" is hovering.

KING HENRY THE VIII

My friend Pam set me up with a book buyer because I have a lot of books. He comes from San Francisco and looks over your collections to possibly buy some that you have. I began to look at my books from a different point of view. This one about King Henry The VIII, by Neville Williams made me rethink King Henry because the  book is written with a more personal and kinder view of him. It is easy to get stuck with the historic view of what a terrible person he was to have wives and friends beheaded, and that he died of syphilis, which he didn’t. Not that beheading wives and creating the Church of England to wage a divorce were very honorable actions, but he was a very special king in many other ways. People of the times were motivated, especially royalty, by other factors than those we or his people faced. I guess what I’m trying to say is he wasn’t ALL bad. He was generous and intelligent and wanted to learn, in his younger days. The last 20 years of his life were pain filled from an injury that ulcerated his leg and eventually killed him. He was sour and mistrusting as he aged by the intrigues and manipulations of those around him who were set on protecting their own powers and favor.


And, because he was a king, there were many beautiful paintings in the book that I relish and enjoyed viewing. This one is just a small part of a full-page of pageantry. The wonderful celebrations and attention made of the King gave people better entertainment than television.  His peasants, who stood by the road to get a glimpse of him and his court, were enthralled. And, this king could ride through his kingdom without secret service people or a bulletproof glass to protect him, in beautiful fresh, unpolluted air.  It was interesting to think about those times and will the mind back to a royal society and what beauty it created, while also temporarily putting aside the cruelty of the times and understand how he could convince himself that several wives were not legally his wives.

It was a beautiful rainy day and we spent most of it home. But Jim’s Bronco needs a new transmission. Not good news.

GREAT PLAINS INDIAN MUSEM AND BLACKFEET HERITAGE CENTER.

Browning, Montana is home to the Great Plains Indian Museum which covers all plains tribes. The list includes Blackfeet, Arapaho, Assiniboine, Cheyenne, Comanche, Crow, Nez Peirce, Lakota, Sioux,  Ojibwa, and Apache.  The museum exhibits are owned by the United States Department Of The Interior and no pictures are allowed. Even the map showing where each tribe came from was off limits. The map above gives their range, but not the individual tribes location. I got the map on wikipedia. Not hard to tell we are in buffalo country.

Bear Bull is a Blackfeet Indian. His image was also taken from Wikipedia where they refer to Blackfoot, rather than Blackfeet. The Museum has an absolutely beautiful collection of Plains Indian clothing, their craftsmanship in building decorative tipi’s, buffalo skin boats, drums, sticks, racks, back rests, the many items that can be made with buffalo hide. It explains their  religious rituals and especially the decorative clothing, saddle cloth, saddles and beaded quivers, toys, baskets, papoose carriers and feathered headdresses. The bead work is stellar, made from the tiniest glass beads and it seems a shame that we are unable to share it. On one side of the Museum is a working artists gallery.

Ernest Marceau gave permission to photograph his work. I liked this water color.

Ernest paints watercolors from memory. He doesn’t copy from a picture. He is Blackfeet. He also works in oil. At the Heritage Center across the street from the museum, he has paintings for sale in decorative wooden frames he makes to go with his paintings.

Stacey Gilham Keller displays and works at the Museum Gallery. This shield is her work. She likes to do masks and pony sticks.

She takes inspiration from the size and shape of a piece of driftwood she finds. It is decorated with horsehair, a bridle, buckskin and bells.

The sticks are affordable and you know it was crafted by a Native American and not mass made in China.

I liked her pony sticks and bought this one. Modern Indian Arts don’t compare to the quality of  items in the Museum where time and experience gave the old timers an edge. This museum is well worth the stop and very educational. It explains the dances, customs, how things are made, the knots used, materials used. Really nice. Across from the museum is the Blackfeet Heritage Center and Gallery.

An installation near a resting spot with picnic tables was open to photography. The pieces are steel.

Animals and people arranged in a circle with the Medicine Man the center of attention.

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When I asked Stacey if she is Blackfoot, she answered vehemently, “No, I’m Blackfeet.” I believe Wikipedia has it wrong. But the steel foot is from the medicine man sculpture.

The Blackfeet Heritage Center Gallery can’t be missed. This huge steer wrangling statue sits in front of the building facing Highway 2. Inside, no pictures are allowed. They have a baby Tyrannosaur complete, coiled up in a circle with everything intact. It is from his “wishbone” (and others) that archeologists know birds are descended from dinosaurs. The fossil was found on Indian lands and can be studied by scientists, but it remains with its finders, the Blackfeet Nation.

John Isaiah Pepion is a Blackfeet Artist who works at the Heritage Center. He is painting on an old ledger page instead of a clean piece of paper. I asked him why? He told me that tribes painted on stones, then graduated to buffalo hide and during the time when the government controlled them and imprisoned them, they were given old ledger sheets to draw on. Those are now called Ledger Art. He buys his sheets at antique sales or from flea markets. Work from several ledger artists was on display at the center, also very affordable.

John Clarke is the Blackfeet, mute artist from the Cut Bank Museum we visited yesterday.

He painted his people.

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While I was rummaging around through yesterdays picture file, I remembered the one item I had never seen before was this Rapid Washer, a plunger used to agitate clothing in the wash tub to help clean them. (I forgot to post it.) So, there you are. The Native American people had their life style, their land, their heritage, even their food stolen from them. I can’t blame them for not wanting their designs stolen as well by refusing to have pictures taken in their cultural centers.