Whence Goest Thou? Huh?

Really. It has been a month since I posted. Whaat has happened?

First the public protest to save the Cedar Creek properties along the lake shore as a Park for those in the future who will reside in one of the most densely populated areas in Kelowna. Then attending various meetings as a representative of the North End Resident’s Association took some time.


Hefting art in and out of Five local shows was also a focus. I was pleased that my piece London Lights sold at the Sopa Under 8 show.

Only two shows still remain on view. One is the abstract geometrics at the Blood Collection Agency on Dillworth Road and the second are the three works in the Myths and Legends show.

The garden has taken much of my focus and energy. As life returns to the soil, I return to life and become dirty. Black feet marks across the floor leading in from the open door.
I painted the front steps and the back deck. I have planted, weeded and mulched the beds. The tulips are dancing jovially across the yard with their yellow, pink, red petals painting the air.

They are truly the happiest of flowers. Not just because of their appearance after the terminal loneliness of winter but their very nature is celebratory. Not too complex, enameled and architectural in form, they are a pleasure to the eye. These are not timid expressions of promise.

The furnace shafts toyed with by the local raccoons and their deviating ways have been repaired. The furnace was leaking, the hot water heater out of sorts.

So one asks where do the days go. Taking care of “the estate” is an act of devotion and stamina. Currently the entire backyard is aglow with the yellow of dandelions. There must be thousands. It reminds me of the poppy fields in the Wizard of Oz. The sight of them makes me feel sleepy.
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There is the rigorous approach. Should I want to be swept immediately to heaven upon my demise, I will take out “the tool” and dig up every root. A less rigorous solution would be to use the weed eater and slow the process of seed head formation. Using the weed eater is always fun no matter how many black spots of bruising I sport afterward. It is primal in its gratification.
Or, and here is the indolent solution, I could wait for hot weather to simply kill them as it does every year. No water. Too much sun. Dead.
I am probably incapable of the last two alternatives but I like to delude myself that I am making a choice.

The federal election is over and my over-zealous postings on Face Book of every damning article in the Globe and Mail, CBC or Provincial newspaper articles on Harper’s controlling, draconian methods have ceased. I do what I can to educate others from my FB and Twitter pulpits. We move forward we mere 60% that didn’t vote for Harper and will keep our eyes open for what next convolutions of chicanery will be forthcoming. For someone who is not political, I certainly spend a lot of energy being political.


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My book on LuLu has garnered many thumbs up and I have sold copies both on the site and to local people. I need to investigate how to create some poetry readings in Kelowna so that I can market this anthology.

A couple of pieces of art that I donated for Artists for Japan had many bidders and that is gratifying. On Thursday I pick up the piece from Carrie Harper who organized the event, contact the winner and collect the money. At that point, I will donate it to the Red Cross Japanese Disaster fund.

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=204637646223799

Also, I have been creating and producing a vision which appeared to me during meditation. The Fun Fancy Flash Mob to raise funds for the Elizabeth Fry Society came to me when I heard a friend’s voice say, “I never get a chance to wear that evening dress I bought in San Francisco.” So now all of these beautiful people in their tuxedos and tiaras will appear at Jim Stuart Park to strut to some recorded music. Four camera over seen by the local filmmaker Jason Woodford will capture the event. Only 30 minutes of glory from 2 until 2:30 will await these red carpet adventurers. I am really pumped about the event. The link for the event is on Facebook should you want to investigate.

In addition, on Saturday our neighbourhood is having a garage sale so I am going through all I own and putting the treasures for someone else out on Saturday morning for the Block Garage Sale. It starts at 9.
Between that event, the Fun Fancy Flash Mob on Sunday and the garden, it will be a furious and fascinating weekend.

Is Life about Work?

Heritage Award for preservation of Veteran's houses

Heritage Award for preservation of Veteran

Sunshine is pushing against the two windows in the kitchen. The furnace sounds like the ocean during a storm. Air moving through the space where I am sitting is both cold and warm. Breezes of technology brushing across and under me. I awoke with an incipient migraine and my head full of lists.

As Pema Chondra recommends that we “keep out seat” and stay in a neutral place between manic and depressive, I am aware of the error of my ways. Work…businesses…running out of time. These adrenalized issues are once again playing out in my life.

I awake already two days behind. I have promised myself out to so many people. When I hear that a fellow artist needs publicity or help, I am triggered and attempt to help.

Currently I am finishing a CD jacket which promises to be very lovely and will be reflecting of the beautiful meditative compositions that Vernon multi-talented artist Devon Muhlert has written. But I have difficulty finding time to complete the project. The upcoming show for SOPA gallery called Under 8 is pressing and I have images to paint for that. Tuesday I have to prepare a presentation for the Central Okanagan Photographers’ lecture of Images of Europe.

Images of Europe show coming up Tuesday

Images of Europe show coming up Tuesday

I was attending the Okanagan Institute Board meetings until the projects just started piling up and I didn’t have the time. Artists@Work First Thursday Art Crawl needs to be organized more tightly for upcoming times when the tourists will appear like rescuers from our winter doldrums.

My neighbours Ray and Sarah Lewis have in essence carried the North End Resident’s Association on their already over burdened backs for the past three years, so I have stepped in to serve as the President this coming year. There is much to do.

Three other amazing artists will be part of the group show in Vienna, Austria in May and I have the graphics and conceptual statement to complete for that.

But it is strange how just when I think I am about to go mad with constant work, an opportunity opens up.

After the Central Okanagan Heritage Society presented our block, 500 Okanagan Boulevard, with a heritage award for maintaining the vets houses in such good repair, Cameron and I were dead tired and driving around. “Let’s go pick up food,” I suggested. We ended up doing something we haven’t done in over six months… we went out to dinner. The two of us sat alone at Yamato’s Restaurant under the four foot round string encased lights reminiscent of 60’s decor and the Japanese paper lanterns. We were across from one another at the acid green formica tables and had nothing to do but look at one another. I could feel the rhythm of my body set for scrimmage action: running without protective gear through the barriers of the day. I could see my mind flashing through the lists of things yet undone. I could step back and see how depleted I had become.
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And Cameron was across from me. For the first time in months he didn’t have a computer in front of his face. Hey. He has eyes. He has really nice eyes. I think I could love this man. Yep!

So trusting that all will get done is work that I need to do. I even see that as work. Blocking in time to do nothing is important. Taking time to have dinner with my dear friend Lil, last night I got another chance to just sit and get grounded by the presence of another voice. Not just the voice in my head like the overseer of the one man crew of my body. The voice whipping me on to do yet more.

Learning to move from a place of love and security instead of a place of anxiety is what my lesson is. Learning to discipline myself to not spend money or put both my hands in the sugar bowl, figuratively speaking, when I feel anxious is my lesson.

But today. I sit here in my soft yellow bathrobe with my hair sticking up. The sun is knocking at two windows. The air is moving across me and it sounds like the beach. I will begin my projects and they will be completed. I will plan my journey to Vienna, my show for Artscape at the Kelowna Community Theatre, my drawing for the Okanagan Erotic Art Show, my lecture for COPS, my works for Sopa knowing that the universe supports me and that all will go well.

The idea that there will be a stopping point is both real and delusional. Now is the stopping point. The mind says, “When you finish this……” The promising mind entices me into the future. There is a stopping point and it is called death. And now. Pause.

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