Eco-Artful Life, an online journal

Communication Glitch

2012-01-25T19:36:00.000-08:00

I am writing offline today, and will need to post when I can either get to a hotspot, or when Centurylink finally restores my internet service. Last week, our area was hit by a record-breaking snowstorm. Having grown up in Michigan, I still have a hard time taking our “snowstorms” seriously, but it really is amazing how a foot of snow here is completely debilitating.

The heavy snow and ice weighed down trees, so that the landscape is littered with huge broken branches, and many trees are split right down the middle. Many smaller trees are permanently bowed, and you can almost hear them muttering, “Oh, my aching back!” Power was lost all over Western Washington. At first, people were heading to hotels and spending time at the mall and cafes. But then, even those businesses lost power. We spoke to a waitress with a disabled child who reported having hauled her son and his equipment from her home to those of family members, but each location lost power. She finally booked a hotel room, but the hotel lost power, and the whole experience had been very stressful for her.

As for us, we were snowed in and our electricity turned on and off over the course of two days. It went out for several hours both evenings, so we had to make dinner and find ways to entertain ourselves in the dark, but we were safe at home with plenty of food and the woodstove. In fact, we each had charged handheld electronic devices, so we could read and play games in the candlelight.

Our friends in the city were not so lucky. One family of 5 described how they stayed huddled under blankets for warmth. A friend was desperately trying to contact her elderly grandmother, who lives alone and was without heat or phone. Grocery stores had to donate much of their stock before it spoiled, and a lot of income was lost as nearly all business activity came to a halt for about a week.

And then a warm front came through, and the snow started melting fast. Now we are approaching flood stage in many areas, and the rain keeps coming. Additionally, we had high winds yesterday, further damaging trees and blowing broken branches onto power lines.

Since the blackouts, our internet has been constantly going on and off. We could check email, but often replies were lost because the signal vanished while we were sending. I had a technician come out yesterday, who replaced my router and modem and was re-wiring connections when he received a call with some bad news. He went to lunch, saying he could finish the job from outside, as I needed to leave. When we came home, we found that we had no internet signal at all, plus, NO PHONE.

I can handle power outages, but I can’t stand this inability to communicate with the outside world. We had another blackout last night, so no clocks, no alarm to get us up on time, no way for Mike to call work. Plus, they are doing state testing today, so it would be a very bad day for a teacher to be late. We kept waking up to check my Nook for the time, and then the power came back on, gratefully. (Getting ready for school and work in the dark would have been difficult.) I sent Mike and Anouk off to work and school knowing that neither of them would be able to contact me today. Mike has a long, rural commute in the dark, through pelting hail, after a night of high winds that undoubtedly left many obstructions on the roads.

Last night, I drove 1.5 miles to a cell phone signal and called Centurylink. It took about a month’s-worth of minutes, many transfers, and frustrating conversations with two indifferent customer service reps and one recorded voice system to submit a request for repair. Unfortunately, no one can contact me to set up a time, so I just have to hope someone comes before I need to leave this afternoon.

All of this has reinforced my commitment to living the way we do. We have piles of wood and 3 different buildings with woodstoves on our property. We have a pantry and extra freezer full of food, plus fresh eggs. We have a drawer full of batteries, a selection of flashlights, and a stash of candles (which we need to re-stock now.) Anouk has a little flashlight that doesn’t require batteries, and while it is a pain to use, it sure came in handy when the power first went out and we needed to find other light sources. We have 3 lights that stay in outlets, but when the power goes out, they turn on. One then becomes a flashlight, holding its charge for a long time (at least, it never ran out during our outages.) I am thinking of picking up more of these emergency lights. The ones that stay plugged only last about an hour, but I put one over the kitchen counter and one in the bathroom, and they were invaluable. I also keep several gallons of water for when we run out, though we didn’t need them this time.

I also remembered that Mike had an old transistor am radio from his childhood, and I was surprised to find that it was in perfect working order! There was something very comforting in being able to listen to the news, including descriptions of people skiing and snowboarding in the streets of Olympia.

That brings me to the thing I do regret about living out here in emergencies; community. We just hunker down in the quiet and darkness at these times. We rely only on our own resources. Mike hates the isolation, and becomes claustrophobic and short tempered. I envy our friends who probably bundled up and went for walks in the silent streets of the city, joined with nearby friends, played in the snow, and made the best of a bad situation as a group. Where there’s power, there are cafes and grocery stores, accessible by foot if not by car. Today, I am tempted to leave home, just so I can find wi-fi and use my cell phone to be in touch with the rest of the world. I have not been without a phone since severe Michigan weather as a child and I hate it.

So, I have written all of this out on my laptop, but I can’t post it. I should probably just go to work in the studio, though I feel anxious and unsettled. I hope someone from Centurylink shows up soon.

Experiments in homemade cleaning products

2012-01-03T09:48:00.000-08:00

The other day, I played with a shampoo recipe I found in a book. It called for 1/4 cup herbal tea, 8 oz. liquid castille soap, and 2 tsp. light oil. I used green tea and mint for the tea portion, added some honey, and I happened to have calendula-infused olive oil (heavier, but infused after all.) The recipe said to simmer the combination over heat, which I did not do. This may be the problem.

The shampoo smells great, but it's runny. I added salt, which has thickened my castille soap products nicely in the past, but it didn't have any effect on this mixture. I have it in a squirt-bottle, which allows me to apply it directly to my hair. I was disappointed in my initial shampooing experience. I felt like I needed shampoo to rinse out my shampoo. There was a light stickiness while my hair was still wet, which is probably from the honey.

Once my hair was dry, it was fine. In fact, it felt thicker and more controllable than usual. I will try heating the mixture now and see if I can thicken it, plus I should add glycerin for moisture retention and easier rinsability and some tea tree oil for extra cleaning power. I'll report back. All in all, it was a good first attempt, but it needs some adjusting.

Yesterday, I followed a recipe for homemade dishwasher detergent. This called for a 1-to-1 ratio of citric acid and washing powder, plus essential oils. That's all. I had citric acid, which I ordered online to make bath fizzies. Washing powder can be found in the detergent section at any grocery store, and is useful for many cleaning products. I added lavender and tea tree oils, which smell clean and fresh. Both have antiseptic properties - good for cleaning, no?

My first load of dishes came out as clean as when I use any store-bought detergent. The downside is that, when I went to use the mix this morning, it had stiffened. I had to bust up the powder with a metal spoon, and it was flying all over the kitchen. I suppose there is some chemical they add to commercial detergents to maintain the powdery consistency, and I'm hoping to figure out a solution.

Today, I need to make liquid dish soap, because I'm plum out.

"Why are you doing all of this, rather than simply buying it pre-made from a store?" one might wonder. Part of it is my stubborn urge for self-sufficiency. Part is the fun of mixing stuff up, adding nice smells, and seeing what happens (reminds me of being a kid.) My biggest goal has been to reduce the number of plastic containers we have to recycle or toss out. Even if we manage to recycle all of our bottles, we send a ton of caps and dispensers to the landfill. However, I have had to face the fact that all of the ingredients I use come in plastic containers with caps. Eventually, I hope to find a source that will allow me to refill my containers.

I'll try to keep updating my progress as I play with these recipes and let you know what works and what doesn't.

Small town - open mind.

2011-12-13T11:55:00.000-08:00

Having grown up in a very rural area of Michigan in the 1970s and 1980s, I fled for the West Coast at the age of 18, eager to join a world of riot grrls and grunge bands and people who use words like "paradigm" and "appropriation" in everyday vocabulary. When I occasionally returned to mid-Michigan to visit family, it was like a slap in the face to hear racial and homophobic slurs cast around by the local residents, and to recognize how different the culture really was where I was raised from my new, chosen community.

But, in my early 30s, I found myself living well outside of any city limits, inextricably drawn to solitude and natural surroundings. I spent the first 5 years out here deliberately avoiding any real interaction with the local community. My social life was limited to the many friends I had made in Olympia and Seattle, and that was just fine. I assumed that a small town on the West Coast would be just about the same as a small town anywhere else; i.e. full of right wing extremists, gun wielding libertarians, and people who hate anyone who doesn't look the same, eat the same foods, and practice the same religion.

When my daughter was 3, I enrolled her in a co-op preschool in Elma, only 6 miles from our house. She attended for 2 hours, 2 days a week, and I was required to volunteer each month. This put me in direct contact with other people living out here in the sticks, and I was terrified. However, I was pleasantly surprised by many of the parents involved in the co-op. I made friends with two of the moms, both amazing people with incredible talents and insights. One of the dads was from Darfur, and had a story that was fascinating, tragic, and absolutely triumphant.

At the age of 5, my daughter entered kindergarten. We enrolled her in the small, 3-room schoolhouse that was the original school for Grays Harbor County. With only 50 students through 6th grade, it was pretty insulated, and that was a deliberate choice. Anouk's kindergarten teacher had been a student at the school as a child, 55 years prior. At the same time, I took a part-time job at a local building supply company, and forced myself to engage with a new section of the community. Again, I met some lovely people, and I was impressed with the intelligence, kindness, and generosity of the people I met both at work, and at the school. Granted, I'm a white, able-bodied person, and I may have had a different experience otherwise. But, it was clear that this small community has a different atmosphere from the one near which I grew up.

Now, I have moved Anouk to the public elementary school where she attends 3rd grade. It is still quite small, but it is innately connected to the town. She loves to participate in local events, so we have found ourselves at football games, Santa greetings, craft fairs, Halloween parties, and more. We see many familiar faces at all of these events, and I am pretty sure we are becoming familiar faces to the local people here. The more I engage with this town, the more I'm impressed with the friendliness, intelligence, and work ethic that seems to be common among the people here. I do not know who is "liberal" and who is "conservative" based on my conversations with people. I've met folks rumored to be republican, only to find that we discuss issues of animal cruelty and sustainable agriculture, and these are shared values. Sure, I've run into the mom who practically spits when she tells me someone gave her daughter a temporary tattoo (tattoos = evil) and the Variety Store owner once made a provocative comment about the phrase "Merry Christmas" vs. "Happy Holidays." But, more often, I have heard people expound that everyone should be kind to each other, and I have seen local teenagers with t-shirts that say "Join the Inclusion Revolution."

I will say, on more recent visits to Michigan, people there have also changed. I no longer hear my relatives use derogatory language, and my extended family is becoming incredibly ethnically diverse. We are no longer Polish-Lithuanian. We are now Polish-Lithuanian-Mexican-Japanese and then some. I suspect the internet has changed small town mentality. As a kid, when we visited other areas of the country, it felt like going into the future about 10 years. Fashion statements like headbands, legwarmers and feather roach clips (for hair) were unheard of in my small school, along with social equality, feminism, and Howard Zinn. The internet has granted everyone the same access to information everywhere, and it seems like a positive change.

The most surprising part of this experience has been the realization that, in larger cities, people seem more separated by their beliefs. When I visit Olympia friends, we generally share political views, eating habits (with small variations), and lifestyle choices. It is a given. We do not intermingle with those who do not share our values, at least not on an intimate level. Out here, I have not felt a sense of separation based on dogma. There is a very good chance I am wrong, since I am still on the fringes. I don't attend a church or work in town. But, I do try to patronize local businesses as often as possible, and I chat with people, and I just don't get a sense of division. In fact, people surprise me constantly with thoughtful, philosophical ponderings about having a positive attitude and trying to spread it around.

By assuming that small-town people were small-minded people, I was being the bigot. And here I thought I was so enlightened.

Tendrils Bath and Body, now in business!

2011-11-28T08:22:00.000-08:00

I touted my new wares at two of three holiday bazaars that I attended this season. Now, I am slowly getting things listed on the new Etsy site (www.etsy.com/tendrilsbodycare). Initial sales were quite small, though I received a lot of interest and people really liked smelling and touching. I can store the soaps, and some of the other products, over winter, and I'm hoping to find a spring garden-related market or festival to give it another shot. Etsy will probably not help me sell a lot of product initially, as I think it will be the smell and feel that will win customers. But, it will give those customers a way to re-order once they try it. In the meantime, I'm packing up gift boxes for family, so at the very least, I have a stash of handmade gifts to offer this holiday season.

My studio has been in major transition for months as I reorganize to accommodate a new commission that takes up 30 square feet, to be installed in April. Mike gave me a tabletop glass kiln for my birthday, which I am ready to test run today, so I am creating a new area for fusing, plus one wall dedicated to Tendrils supplies and tools. I still haven't figured out how to make it all fit, and I am beginning to think I need to give up some mediums - and I don't want to. In fact, I have MORE ideas and I want to go back to sewing and collage on top of everything. There is just not enough room or time for the things I want to make.

Luckily, I find that Winter is my season for creating. All becomes quiet, there is little gardening to be done, the ideas and motivation seem more tangible, and I spend these coming months in the studio during the day, then crocheting or sewing or other "crafty" things in the house amid my little family in the evenings.

That said, it's time to get off the computer and get to work.

Making balms

2011-10-21T10:06:00.000-07:00

A variety of herbs still growing in our garden in October.

I can't believe I'm still able to harvest a handful of lavender, yarrow, calendula, and lots of other herbs this late in the season. These get separated into paper bags, or bundled and hung to dry. When they are nice and crispy, I pack them into jars and fill the rest with olive or almond oils. After about 3 weeks, I strain the oil for use in the products I've been making. It is a very time-consuming process (Mike recently asked my why I can't seem to do anything that is actually cost-effective) but it is rewarding. Every step is relaxing and aromatic, and it feels good to know I'm using organically grown plants right out of my own yard.

The down side is that the pantry is small, and there really isn't room for my new enterprise. A table just inside our front entryway is piled high with containers of oils, beeswax, honey, essential oils, and tools. I bring what I need to the kitchen for each project, then pile it all back on the table, with no organization at all. The kitchen floor is spackled with cocoa butter and wax, which doesn't mop up. I need to use a straight-edge to scrape it up, and it never seems clean. I still haven't figured out how to clean the waxy residue off of the bowls, spatulas, sieves and mixers I use to make lotion and balm.

But, it's all worth it. I spent the better part of yesterday making a balm from beeswax, shea butter, cocoa butter, honey, vitamin E, glycerine, olive oil, and essential oils that will make a nice gift for a friend's baby shower this weekend. The wax makes it a barrier cream, to prevent baby rash, while all of the other ingredients are nourishing and soothing. It would also work well for gardeners, crafters, and anyone needing extra protection and moisturizing for hands, feet, elbows, etc. (It would be great for mosaic artists and those working with cement.) I am very pleased with the outcome. Here is a photo of the balm in the tins:

Today, I finally have a working printer, so I will be experimenting with creating a label. I've been researching companies that print labels, but for a small line of products like this, nothing is really affordable. So, at least for now, I have to figure out how to make them myself. I really want my products to look homemade, but pretty and professional. Presentation has never been my strong point.

Part of our squash/pumpkin crop.

We have pulled in almost all of our pumpkins, so there isn't much left to do in the garden. Mike has been mulching on the weekends, and I plan to start putting chickens in the veggie garden to turn the soil. I have a pile of tomatoes and zucchini to freeze, and the rest is finally done. We butchered the turkeys last week and our freezer is packed full. We traded one turkey to Barnyard Gardens for some chickens, plus they always do the butchering for us. We have decided not to raise turkeys next year. It is far too expensive, and quite a bit of extra work.

Well, that's the homestead report for October. The misty-rainy season is in full swing and the hard work is over. It's a good time to make art, soap, balm, lotion, and today I'm making bath bombs, and nursing a month-long cold.

Autumn Homestead Update

2011-10-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

Fall tends to be one of the busier times here on the little farm. I am usually scrambling to prepare for art exhibits, starting to create some smaller items for holiday sales, and dealing with the harvest, all while my husband and daughter are getting back to their school/work schedules and all of the extracurricular activities that come with it.

By now, our tomatoes are dwindling, and I've been removing the spent plants from the greenhouse, making room for a fall crop of greens. We planted winter broccoli and cauliflower, plus salad greens. We've never done a fall planting before, mainly because it has always been so much work just getting the harvest finished, let alone dealing with replanting. I thought planting in the greenhouse would mean the veggies were protected from predators (all of the greens in the raised beds have now been munched away by deer) but I have been fighting a whole gang of caterpillars instead.

The deer have been very audacious, coming into the fenced garden surrounding our house, eating our raspberries and grapes. The other morning, I was wholly entertained watching Mike chasing a deer around out there in his underwear and t-shirt, barefoot, waving a plastic yellow softball bat. These are the memories we will cherish forever.

We have a lot of grapes (though less each time the deer break in), and I have no idea what I'll do with them. I'd love to make wine, but I'm not up to buying equipment and taking that on this year. We could vitamix them, but what about seeds?

Our first hive was invaded by yellow jackets. Within about a week, the yellow jackets drove out the honey bees and ate almost all of the honey. The hive never did produce much honey, so I don't think it was healthy to begin with, but we were very upset by the loss. We are just hoping the other two hives are safe - they look ok. I've been trying to salvage beeswax from the dead hive, but it's full of brood, and a bit papery.

Now and then, I find time to make lotions. I infused almond oil with lavender for my most recent recipe. I didn't use any essential oils, so the lotion is subtle and simple. I'll give you a little rundown:

First, I melted beeswax and the lavender-infused almond oil, while letting some borax powder dissolve in water:

Then I mixed them together while both were hot. I put the mixture in a blender I use only for lotions.

Once it was nicely whipped, I poured the mixture into jars and let it cool:

The hardest part about making lotion is planning ahead. The infusion takes a few weeks, and then it's just a matter of having the materials on hand and the right tools. The rest is very simple. It has a nice, mild lavender smell, and the beeswax/almond oil texture feels luxurious on my hands.

My printer has broken down, so I need to get a new one. Then I can print some labels and get my new products ready for the holidays. Even if I can't sell them, they will make great gifts. I helped
Anouk and her friend make melt & pour glycerine soap the other day. We added our honey and some sage oil. I used one to wash my face this morning, and it is the best facial soap I've ever used. Anouk is going to make her own products and call them "Little Tendrils."

2011-08-30T08:04:00.000-07:00

Pink Rhodies, glass-on-glass.

The Federal Way Senior Center commissioned a second project from me this year. This is a glass-on-glass mosaic that will embellish the top of a new sign at their entryway. It will be illuminated by natural light, and the design will be visible from both sides. I delivered the finished piece on Saturday, and I'm excited to see it installed in its permanent home.

The main part of the mosaic is done using Opus Sectile, which means that the pieces are cut to fit the shape of the object they represent; i.e. each petal and leaf blade are cut as one piece, the way a stained glass artist would work. However, stained glass would not be able to accommodate the small details, like pistils, as they would get lost within the copper and lead. These small pieces are very hard to cut, and a ring saw was used to cut into the petals where the pistils were inlaid. The background is done using Opus Palladium, which simply means it is random, though each piece is still hand cut to fit together, like a puzzle that hasn't been made yet.

This was a delightful little project to complete, perfect for summer. Now, I feel the shift toward Autumn, my favorite time of year, and I'm working on painting a bench for the City of Olympia. It has taken me several weeks for Mike and I to strip off the gum, hair (yes, wads of it), laminate, and primer paint from the slats, and then I applied new primer and a base coat of different colored enamels. A pattern is slowly emerging, and I will soon add layers of detail to create a "magic carpet" design. I am drawing on my experiences applying henna, studying Middle Eastern Art and Culture in college, last year's trip to Turkey, and playing with techniques in Laurel Skye's recent book on Rajasthani inspired mosaic. As soon as my daughter returns to school in a few days, I'll be making fast progress on the final stage of that project.

Infused, and then some...

2011-08-24T09:26:00.000-07:00

It is harvest season on the farm, with our herbs reaching their full potential faster than I can cut and dry them. I try to spend a little time each day gathering borage, mint, calendula, basil, thyme, and more, in addition to the tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, beets, and little broccoli florets that we add to meals or freeze for the winter.

The herbs are carefully selected and put into paper bags, then kept in a cool, dark place to dry. I have two jars of almond oil with calendula and lavender, slowly infusing in my pantry. There is also a jar of vodka and grass clippings, which will result in extracted chlorophyl. All of these things will be added to the lotions and balms I'm learning to make. Last week, my order of metal and glass containers arrived, and now I need to figure out how to create labels. So far, I've created eye cream and a very rich hand cream, perfect for gardeners and mosaic artists.

I am hoping to have a small product line to sell and give as gifts by the holiday season, and I'll see how they are received. If nothing else, I'm having fun making my own body care products. I also made clove mouthwash and strawberry leaf facial astringent, just for me. All of these things are actually quite easy to do, and very satisfying. Moreover, I can avoid buying more plastic containers,which I tend to keep piled in my studio in the hope of finding ways to reuse them.

Now, I'm off to grout my current commission, and prime a city bench so that I can begin painting crazy designs all over it.

My last day alone on the farm...

2011-08-04T10:39:00.000-07:00

I have picked and frozen 8 gallon bags of raspberries so far, and they keep coming!

Mike and Anouk are staying with a friend in Northern CA and will leave there this afternoon for the last leg of their trip, stopping for the night in Oregon. I expect to see them early in the day tomorrow. I am very excited to have them home, but also fully enjoying the last day of solitude.

I feel that I've done a good job of subsisting on existing food, though I haven't been hard core. There were many things in the cupboards and fridge to supplement my meals, like salad dressing, spices, coffee, a can of tuna, etc. But, I made a huge pot of chili from scratch that provided many meals during the first week and ate a lot of salad with boiled eggs sliced over them. I'm no longer quite as excited about cucumbers. I often sautee beets and zucchini with balsamic vinegar and oil, which is delicious. I think I've lost about 5 lbs, and I'm not craving carbs any more at all, though I do feel like I need more protein.

Yesterday I was in town and I bought tofu, rice milk, chocolate, and a bottle of wine. We'll go and buy a carload of groceries this weekend, but I feel like I've reset my appetite to a different standard, and I'll try to keep eating this healthfully as long as I have access to fresh veggies.

Last night, deer ravaged my garden. Someone ate the tops off of most of the carrots, munched the 3 broccoli plants, and chewed the top layer off of all of my cabbage. The deer are beautiful animals, and I love how tame they are around here, but I am not growing a buffet for the wildlife. I suppose we will need to put up electric wire or something this year.

I found two baby eggs in the coop yesterday, which means my young hens are starting to lay! We will soon have enough eggs to share.

My garden is still very weedy, but with two of us at home, we should be able to get that under control this month. I have a commission, and I've been able to make significant progress on it with all of this uninterrupted time. Now there is a bench waiting for me to pick up and paint for the City of Olympia, if I can just borrow a truck and someone else to help me load and unload it. So, between projects and family, I'm sure I will be posting a lot less after this. (I've spent way too much time on the computer in my alone time.) Harvest time is upon us, so I'll be extra busy picking, chopping, freezing and drying during this, most beautiful time of year in my favorite place on Earth.

Red Hot Art and Fun

2011-07-31T13:56:00.000-07:00

Last night, my friend Gabriela and I attended the very swanky Red Hot party and auction at Tacoma's Museum of Glass. Gabriela Cowan is half of the mother-daughter team that comprises Hexen Glass Studio in Olympia, and they create custom stained and fused glass artwork. We each juried into this exhibit, in which all proceeds benefit the museum's education programs. I also attended last year's event, and it has proven to be a great opportunity to network and gain exposure.

As both Gabi and I are introverted country girls who spend almost all of our time on farms and in studios, we were giddy with the excitement of dressing up and going to a fancy party. Walking into the Museum of Glass during the exhibit is like entering a glass artist's wonderland. The whole main space gets set up as a huge maze of every kind of glass art, nicely lit and displayed.

This is one of my favorites, blown and hand-sculpted glass by Shelley Muzylowski Allen.

With our glasses of wine, we perused the art, commenting on how important it is to get out of our comfort zones once in a while, and to look at art made by other people. I enjoy eavesdropping on people as they look at my work. Whether they like it or hate it, I find it interesting to hear their perspectives. In this case, I overheard rave reviews, and watched as the bidding sheet quickly filled up! Here's the piece they won:

Gabi's fused glass cityscape also received many bids, and it looked great.
I can't find a digital image of her piece, but here is one that is similar:

We were both invited to give an interview for a live webcast, and I agreed. Always nervous when put on the spot, I don't remember much of what I said. I was completely hypnotized by the tall, gorgeous woman interviewing me.

After the silent auction, we were called in for dinner. After a week of eating without groceries, it was great to be served a delicious meal, but the very best part (possibly the best part of the whole evening) was the chocolate wine they served with dessert! Chocolate Wine...I didn't even know such a thing existed! It was absolutely divine, especially paired with a dark chocolate truffle. What a treat, and what a fun night. I'm so glad I was able to share the experience with a good friend.

Late July on the Farm

2011-07-28T10:48:00.000-07:00

In early June, Mike was putting together a drip irrigation system in our garden. Sadly, his mom passed away before it was finished, so he gave me a quick tutorial before he flew to California. We wanted to have it ready for someone to easily water in our absence. Now, drip lines pinned to the soil feed mini sprayers and drip spouts throughout the perennial garden when the spigots are turned on. In the veggie garden, we have timers for drip lines to the pumpkins and sprinklers for the raised beds. The greenhouse needs to be watered by hand every couple of days. This whole system saves hours of time and many gallons of water.

I drove down to join Mike in California, and we have only been home a few days since mid-June. The gardens are full of weeds and many of our veggies were ravaged by slugs, but it's still flourishing.

From this view, you can see a bed of beets on the left, which we will freeze and use throughout the winter. The bed to the right has a zucchini in the foreground and the rest is carrots. Beyond that are raised beds with cabbage, broccoli, fennel, potatoes, kale, spinach, and salad greens. On the far end is a huge winter squash patch, and there is a bee hive in the far right corner.

Inside the greenhouse (it was hard to shoot a full view), the left side is full of tomatoes and there are snap peas beyond them. There are cucumbers on the right, training up twine suspended from the roof. Calendula and basil are planted in between everything else. So far, I've only been able to eat one ripe cherry tomato, but there are many green tomatoes that will be ripe soon. I eat the snap peas straight off the vines, and I have more cukes than I can eat on my own right now. They are delicious!

The turkeys are growing fast, and are always famished. You can see the ducks peeking out from behind them. The black rouens are absolutely gorgeous.

Most of these chickens were babies only a few months ago. They have finally gotten through their awkward teenage phase and are coming into their own. I am only getting about one egg per day right now, so I look forward to these hens beginning to lay.

And the goats are sweet as ever, though Pan has been getting abrasions of some kind on his face, and Isabel currently has a similar injury on her face. I have no idea what could be causing them.

In addition to the veggie garden, we have berries and fruit growing all over the property. I've frozen 5 gallons of raspberries, and I've been snacking on blueberries and strawberries. I'm trying to spend some time harvesting lavender each day, and the herbs are just going to seed. Our grape vines are huge, and little grape bunches are just starting to grow from them.

I'm so glad to be home for the summer, and enjoying the beginning of the harvest season.

Bee Swarm

2011-07-27T16:53:00.000-07:00

Earlier this summer, Anouk ran in the house announcing that the bees were swarming. Sure enough, when I checked the back yard, the air was filled with buzzing bees. It's impossible to describe this experience, and when I tried to catch it on film, it simply looked like the sound and image was poor quality. As we watched, the buzzing swarm slowly condensed into a thick cloud of bees, and they eventually began to cling to a post in our raspberry patch, covering it in a thick blanket of bees (referred to as a "beard.")

We brought out an empty super, then we moved the swarm into the box. We had only read about this process before, and it was surreal how docile the bees were. We were literally scooping handfuls of bees, like they were liquid. Mike cut the stalk they had gathered on and shook that into the box, then we put a feeder full of sugar water in the top box, put the lid on, and left them to settle in. Bees are expensive, so we were thankful that we had an empty super on hand, because we now have a third hive, and it appears to be building comb very quickly.

We left the feeder on when we needed to leave town in June, and when we came home, they had built crazy comb to fill every inch of open space between the feeder and frames. Here is a photo of a smaller crazy comb formation (from a different hive:)

Crazy comb is when the bees build free form Dr. Seuss-style structures to fill empty spaces in the hive. We have learned to remove it so that the frames don't get welded together, making it impossible to tend the bees. After removing that larger comb, I spent about an hour pressing the honey out, then melting the wax. I decided to try using the microwave on thaw setting, and it worked perfectly. Remaining honey sank to the bottom of the bowl, impurities were in the center, and the pure wax floated and hardened on top. From just a bunch of excess comb, I have 12 ounces of honey and a big chunk of wax for use in soap and lotion-making!

Eating without groceries for 2 weeks

2011-07-27T16:29:00.000-07:00

It has been a crazy busy summer, including travel for a funeral, art exhibit, family reunion and a wedding. None of my travels allowed me computer access, and it was a refreshing break.

During the last trip, I spent 10 days in Northern Michigan wilderness, where I grew up. While I was away, my husband, Mike, was working a summer position in Olympia, so he ate his meals there and snacked on what little was left in the house. As a result, I returned to find there was almost no food in the fridge, and the rest of my little family turned around and left the following day to go settle an estate.

Left alone with part of a jar of peanut butter, some rice milk, and a can of tuna, I considered a run to the grocery store. But, then I harvested 3 gallons of raspberries, which I was putting in our garage freezer when I realized we still had a few bags of tamales that we made during the winter, two frozen chicken breasts, and some turkey, along with quite a few bags of frozen veggies. Plus, the garden, while severely neglected, is producing a lot of fresh food. So, I made it my goal to survive on what is here on our property until my family returns.

We have made an effort to eat a lot food that we grow ourselves, but I've been lazy about it lately. My daughter has been eating nonstop and I am not the kind of mom who will spend a lot of time preparing food. It's one of my least favorite chores, and I had fallen back into the habit of using store bought groceries for the main components of our meals. I hope this exercise will remind me that I can make better meals using the eggs and produce we grow. So far, I've had turkey with kohlrabi and zucchini, a couple of salads with grilled chicken, a lot of cucumber slices, fresh berries, quite a few tamales, and I've been cooking chili in a crock pot, made with dried beans, turkey, zucchini, tomatoes and spices.

So far, I'm enjoying every meal, I'm eating more healthfully than I have in a long time, our grocery budget for this month will be almost nothing, and I wash and reuse my freezer bags, so there has been almost no garbage!

Slug hunting season is IN.

2011-05-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

Banana Slug, native to Pacific Northwest forests.

For anyone who lives in a dry climate, or one with cold winters, this is a slug. Slugs are hermaphroditic mollusks that live in our temperate, moist forests. However, a European variety was first discovered in 1933 in a Seattle garden, and this species has flourished to become the number one enemy of Northwest gardeners. While I rarely find a native Banana slug in my garden, I spend time every day collecting European Red Slugs as they devour my precious plants.

Anouk gets paid 10 cents per slug, and we have had to fork out an alarming amount of money this season. Unfortunately, I like slugs when they aren't eating my plants, and I hate killing them. This was my main motivation for getting ducks. Slugs are a yummy duck treat, and it provides a quicker death for the slugs than snipping or salting. (They seem to take at least 10 minutes to die, even when snipped in half, and it looks miserable.)


This is Arion Rufus, the non-native variety.

Sometimes, I'll find 10 slugs eating a single plant.


Here is a very sad kale that has been ravaged by slugs.

This year, possibly because it has been so very wet, it seems like we are extra inundated. Usually, after about a week of daily slug hunting, the numbers diminish significantly. I collect them on wet evenings or after a rain shower, and I feel like they just keep coming by the bucketload.

My ducks can't keep up with the supply. They gobble them down, but after too many, they start spitting them back up. Last night, Mike drove a bucket up to some raw forest property and dumped them out for me. It might be more humane, but it really isn't good for our ecology.

So, if you live in the area, it is important to know the difference between the beneficial Banana Slug and the invasive species. Be brave and pick up a slug, let it slide over your hand, and talk to it. They respond to voices and music, and they are fun to learn about and observe. Did you know, if you lick a slug, your tongue will become numb? How do I know this?
I'n not thelling.

Crazy Comb

2011-05-22T11:58:00.000-07:00

When I checked our new hive yesterday, I found that they had been hard at work building some Dr. Seuss-style architecture on the top of their frames. (We have a top-feeder in the honey super right now, so there is room for them to construct a fantastic wax sculpture.)

I tried to find information online about what to do about this, if anything, but I only found a couple of references to "crazy comb" that did not include more information. So, I once again harassed my friend Damian, who advised me to remove it. Today Mike and I both suited up and I fired up the smoker (which goes out every time, so we use liquid smoke for back-up) and we carefully peeled the structure off. This hive has been much more productive than our first one, and they already have comb built out to most of the outer frames. We were excited to find that the part we scraped off has some honey in it, so we had our first tiny taste of honey produced by our own hives.

Next, we checked the established hive that we started last spring. We have had a honey super on it for a year, but they aren't building comb in that at all. Still, they have the hive body completely full of honey, and they appear to be healthy. Hopefully, now that spring has sprung, they will spend the summer building on those frames and filling them with delicious honey.

A friend has been teaching me to make soap, and I plan to spend this year making more of it, plus lotions, balms, and candles, using our wax, herbs, and beneficial plants. I'm actually considering reducing my mosaic production and turning part of the studio into space for making and storing products from our homestead. We hope to invest in two more hive bodies by the end of summer so that we can either capture a swarm or purchase more bees next year.

Anouk had a friend sleep over last night, so I showed the girls the wax we took from the hive. They were both fascinated, and happy to taste some honey straight from the source. Keeping bees has been a rewarding challenge so far, and it ties together all that we are doing here on our little homestead.

Farm Update for late May

2011-05-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

Each year, we face some kind of delay getting our garden planted and projects started, but it seems to always come together. This spring has been very cold and dreary. I even had to scrape my car windows on Monday morning! My early attempts to seed greens resulted in no sprouts at all, so I tried again a few weeks later and got a few little starts, and now I feel pretty confident that the seeds I planted last weekend will be successful.

Luckily for us, Mike runs the Horticulture program at his school, so there are always plenty of starts available if we can't pull it together. Also, our best friends own a nursery, (www.BarnyardGardens.com) so we lean on them when our luck runs out.

Right now, I'm working most days while Anouk is in school, so I'm up by 6am to get all of us ready and off to school, then I drive the long commute to the job site, and put in about 4 hours of work before I race back to her school to pick her up. After school, we run errands and I try to accomplish some important task at home, like cleaning, bill paying, and garden maintenance, before cooking dinner and putting her to bed. I usually fall asleep during that process and I'm toast after that.

Two Black Rouen & Two Swedish Blue

In between those tasks, I tend to our animals. Our ducklings grew to nearly full-size within a month, and they now live where our turkeys have lived in past years. I failed to socialize them, so they run from me, but they are very easy to take care of, and we have been supplementing their feed with a steady supply of slugs. They are gorgeous and fun to watch.

Our chicks are now about half grown, so I moved them to the main coop just the other day. First, I put them in an adjacent enclosure for the afternoon so that they could introduce themselves to the established flock through the fence.

That evening, all of the chickens retired to the coop as usual. The rooster was particularly loud, but not aggressive, and they have been happily cohabitating for three days now. (Chickens will become very territorial if you put new in with old during the day, and they sometimes kill the newbies.)

When we get baby poultry, they spend the first couple of weeks in a plastic tub in a closet with a heat lamp. Then I move them out to our original chicken coop, close to the house, in our old rabbit cage for extra security. When they are ready, I move them out of the cage to have full range of the brooding coop until they are big enough to be out in a yard. When I moved the chickens, I was able to release the baby turkeys from the hutch, so they now have a big coop to play in. We did not go with a heritage breed this year, but I would have to write another long blog to explain why. Next time I get a day to myself...

It has been a beautiful week, and today is predicted to be the best weather yet this spring, so I had better get off my butt and enjoy the sunshine. I have plants to water, bees to check, and a car to pack full for the POSSCA Artist's Garage Sale taking place tomorrow.

Tomato and basil starts in the greenhouse, with cukes waiting in the tray.

Broccoli and cauliflower bed.

Installing a glass tile pool surround

2011-05-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I expressed some concern that I may need to get a real job, as commissions have completely dropped off since last Fall. Lo and behold, my tile setter friend, Frank Lynam, needed an extra hand in order to complete a large project by June. So, I am working days as an assistant tiler, learning all about this particular large-scale installation.

We spent the first five days putting up the membrane, which is the orange part of the wall that wraps around. This is a lap pool in the basement of a home that is built into a hillside. The exterior wall is concrete. The other walls are plaster. The membrane will make the substrate impervious to dampness. Also, since we are laying the tile in a brick pattern, there is no place to add an expansion joint, and the membrane will allow some give and take behind the tile. Additionally, we will use a urethane grout made with ground glass instead of sand, which is more flexible.

That's Frank, one of the best tilers in our area. He is extremely fastidious in his work, specializing in creative and challenging tile installations. I am learning how to work without getting thinset all over my clothes and surroundings, and making sure everything is done to absolute perfection. It's good for me.

This may look pretty straightforward, but check out how clean the joints are! Frank is concerned that, since this is glass tile and the color is on the back, any meeting of thinset and grout will be visible with some careful examination. So, we carefully install the tile with no thinset in the joints. Also, this thick glass tile is difficult to cut without it shattering, so every cut is done so slowly, I sometimes wonder if I'm still moving the saw table. The cuts result in a slightly ragged edge on front and back, so we then use 3 grades of metal files to make the back edge look precise through the glass, and make the front edge just as rounded and soft as the rest of the tile. They end up looking like they were manufactured to that size. The floor is not flush, so we have to cut every tile on the bottom row to make sure all of the lines are perfect as we continue to set rows up the wall. It's a lot of measuring, cutting, filing, and fixing occasional mistakes. Frank tells me he has tried to work with other assistants, but they quickly lose patience with the detail work. I think my experience with mosaic is an advantage when approaching tile with such meticulous care.

So, although I have almost no time at all for the garden or studio right now, I'm earning money and learning some skills that may come in handy later, if I can ever land myself a big mosaic installation. I have to admit, if I had my choice, those walls would be covered with undulating blue and green intersecting lines suggesting water, made of stained glass or tile. Mmmm.

Hair

2011-04-27T14:10:00.000-07:00

Over this past winter, I began a series of mosaic panels around a "hair" theme, mainly based on an image in my mind of an exhibit consisting of multiple pieces, all with the same basic design of a long, undulating shape with a woman's face, but all done with different colors and andamento. I bounced my idea off of Mike, who felt it would be a good practice for me to repeat the same design over and over, and to create a collection that could be presented as a real body of work.

I began with some long wedi scraps I had lying around, cutting them to the shape I had in my mind. The first was purple, and very rudimentary, though I did practice using a more classical style of setting my tesserae by cutting all of my glass shards into little squares, which I found tedious. Also, this piece is ungrouted, which is sort of the trendy way to work in Mosaic-land, but I rarely feel comfortable with my own work ungrouted.

In the meantime, I felt the need to go back to my persistent interest in mythology and culture to explore stories like Rapunzel while trying to understand why we put so much emphasis on hair. I mean, why do we save locks of hair as mementos? Why do women have to cover their heads in certain religions? Why does our hairstyle tell the world so much about our identities? Why wasn't I allowed to cut my hair until 7th grade? Why does our hair even grow the way it does, on our heads, and continuously?

I've been keeping a sketch journal and reading whenever I find time, making notes, drawings, and writing about my own personal hair story. It is pretty fascinating (to me.) Here's a bit of trivia for you: The ancient sun gods were depicted as an orb with golden rays (sometimes interpreted as shining hair) emerging, which evolved into the halo as a symbol of divinity, which turned into a crown worn by royalty to indicate their divine right to the throne.

I've been working hard to stick to this theme, but I'm aching to make something different. I keep small, simple projects going on the side as an outlet for my need for change. The hair series keeps evolving, and while I've stuck with the theme, it won't be a room full of the same image over and over. I just can't do it. Now, my symbolism has turned personal, and the mosaic on my easel deals more with my childhood, in which hair played a significant role.

Also, some upcoming exhibits required submissions, and I feel this work is my best foot forward, so they may start getting distributed to various shows, if I'm accepted. Even if they are not accepted, I will not be in a position to reject potential buyers, and I've had inquiries. So, my vision of a traveling Hair exhibit is slowly fading.

This one is titled "Growing" which is what it is really all about.

Delayed Gratification

2011-04-26T09:57:00.000-07:00

Olympia hosts two major Arts Walk events each year, in Spring and Fall. Spring's festival coincides with Earth Day, and is the larger of the two. Downtown streets are closed to traffic, so they fill with performers and festival-goers. On Friday night, there is a beautiful luminary parade, and the Procession of the Species on Saturday afternoon is the highlight. An amazing number of residents parade through the streets in celebration of animal and plant species, dressed in costumes, dancing, walking on stilts, playing instruments, or walking inside of something like a huge whale that spurts water from its spout. So many people participate in the Procession that it takes 2 hours to watch them all pass the throngs of enthusiastic onlookers. Each business features local artists, so it is an opportunity to see all of the creative work being made throughout the community.

Spring Arts Walk was this past weekend, so I've been working hard to have everything finished for a group show. As I've mentioned, business has been painfully slow since Fall, so I was feeling optimistic that I might catch up a little bit this weekend. I did sell a few small things, and I received a lot of enthusiastic feedback from visitors.

Spring is moving very slowly this year, which has been the main topic of my posts. I keep planting seeds for greens, but only a handful have sprouted, probably because we are still getting frost at night and not nearly enough sun. Our chicks and ducklings are growing fast and seem to be doing very well, and we get our turkey poults tomorrow, which does help to remind us that it really is springtime. Somehow, it feels like the delay in the season is strangely connected to this lull in commission work and art sales. I am awaiting deposits on two potential projects, but I have learned not to plan around such possibilities as they often fall through. I have applied for several exhibits, but I won't receive confirmation until June for events that begin in July, so I have work that I can't sell at all, and my summer plans are up in the air. Ah, the life of an artist...

Two days ago, while feeding our newest bees, I wore gloves with cloth on the back (instead of leather.) A bee stung me through the fibers on my right thumb, and the reaction has been quite severe. At first, it was merely painful, but I kept working, cleaning the house and moving my workspace back to the outdoor studio (I've been working in the warm house all Winter.) By evening, the whole backside of my hand had swollen and the skin was extremely sensitive. It bothered me all night, making it difficult to sleep. Yesterday, the swelling spread to the pads of my hand on the front, partway up my fingers, and a couple of inches down my wrist on both sides. I wasn't able to work at all. This morning, it is still swollen, but less painful. I have had to continue basic tasks like making meals, cleaning dishes, and taking care of animals, but I'm clumsy and must do most of it with my left hand. I've tried every remedy I could find online, but nothing works. Benadryl has no effect on the inflammation, but it does help me sleep through the discomfort. So, I think my frustration with my work is exacerbated by my billy club of a hand. Typing is one of the only things I can do with it, so I'm catching up on all computer-related tasks. Submissions have been typed, receipts entered, inbox organized, and now I've written a long, boring blog entry that can't possibly of much interest to anyone.

I need to go back out to the new hive today to see if the queen has been released from her little cage yet, but I'm actually quite nervous for the first time. I can't even fit my hand into a glove at this point, and it would seriously suck to get stung again. Where's my farmhand?

Waste Not

2011-03-31T10:03:00.000-07:00

One of the things I enjoy about raising chickens and goats is their role as instant-composters. We have a small compost pile, but I use it only for moldy food and manure. Almost all of our food waste is used to supplement our animal feed. Though we try to eat what we grow and buy from local sources, there are definitely some exceptions that we make, like bananas and avocados. So, in addtion to any leftover greens, our goats LOVE to eat our banana and avocado peels, along with tamale husks. The chickens eat all grain-based leftovers, cheese, potatoes, legumes and cooked veggies. We give them leftover cooked eggs and crushed eggshells, and if I ever drop an egg in the coop, they rush over to devour it because it is full of nutrition.

As for any meat scraps, the dogs and cats are happy to take care of those. Whenever I cook a chicken (purchased from Barnyard Gardens in Shelton, WA www.barnyardgardens.com) I usually use the white meat as a main dish the first night, the dark meat incorporated into a dish the second night, then I boil the rest to make broth and peel every bit of the yucky meat from the bones as treats for our indoor pets.

When we tend the garden, we toss the weeds over the fence to the goats and chickens to munch on. By the time they finish processing all of this waste, it is well on it's way to nutrient-rich compost. We cut down on feed costs, the animals enjoy a yummier, more nutritious diet, and we don't send any of it to the dump.

Balancing acts

2011-03-24T09:25:00.000-07:00

Barred Rock and two Rhode Island Red chicks

Spring is coming SO slowly this year! Every couple of weeks, we get a nice, sunny day and we all rejoice. I spend those days outside taking care of farm chores, even if I have a mosaic on the table that I'm aching to keep working on. But those days are followed by many, many days of rain and clouds, so we've gotten a lot of work done indoors. I haven't been able to stay focused on my series - I want to play and experiment.

On weekends, Mike has been working hard to redo our upstairs bathroom, which has a clawfoot tub and old style sink and plumbing. We collected the tub and sink years before the house was built, and kept them stored in our garage. When it was installed, we invested in the expensive matching plumbing and lights from Restoration Hardware. But, that's about all we could manage, so we lived with an old sewing table and a cobbler's bench to hold our soap, shampoo and towels. We still don't even have a place for Mike to shave. A couple of weeks ago, Mike hung wainscoting wallpaper along the bottom section of the walls, trimmed out with a chair rail. He built a big shelving unit to hold our stuff so we could remove the nasty old tables. Together, we hung textured wallpaper on the ceiling, painted it copper, and put in crown molding. We are still touching up paint, whenever we can get to it, so for weeks now, the bathroom has been full of tools, a ladder, dropcloths, etc. But it looks much more like the old-fashioned bathroom we originally envisioned, for very little money.

I just turned the soil in one of the vegetable beds yesterday and planted rows of greens. In the fall, I put a lot of manure from the chickens and rabbit on the beds, and when I dug in the dirt yesterday, I was thrilled to see that it is rich and dark, with worms everywhere. I brought home two more chicks and four ducklings and got them set up in their little houses in the barn with heat lamps. (I had sworn I wouldn't get ducks again because they are always massacred by raccoons, but I love ducks, and they really help with slug control. So we will keep them in the chicken enclosure most of the time and build them some lodging.)

My art business is just not generating enough money to call it a job right now. I'm getting very anxious. We are not able to get by on Mike's teacher income, so we rely on my art sales to top us off and pay for anything fun. Mike's mom has been fighting cancer in California, so we have some extra travel expenses these days, Mike had a minor surgery last month and we have a copay, and we had to borrow money to do some repairs to our 1983 Toyota Corolla that we still owe on. I'm applying for every opportunity I think I qualify for, but each one takes months to jury and confirm, so I still don't know if I have art shows or commissions for this summer. I just keep plugging away at my series, making small pieces in between that I can display at Matter! Gallery in Olympia or show at Olympia's Spring ArtsWalk next month.

So, I've begun to brainstorm ways to earn income from the farm. I'm thinking of trying to grow all kinds of beans, with the possibility of selling them. I could can them so that they could sell year round, and have dried beans as well. Beans are such a great food. Mike and Anouk made soap last weekend, which got me thinking about developing lotions, salves, and soaps using our honey and beeswax to sell locally or online. I spend so much time working in our gardens, and we have such an abundance of beneficial herbs and veggies, it seems a waste of my efforts not to find a way to turn that into a business.

Still, I'm sure there will be income-earning events over the summer, and a commission just might land in my lap, and every time I've been about to give up, something has always come through in the past. I will be featured in a local magazine this summer, which is going to be the best advertising I've ever had. Last year, I had applied for many exhibits thinking each was a fat chance, and I ended up juggling 5 different shows at the end of summer. So, I'll give it more time, and when Anouk is old enough to be home alone for a while, or we meet a neighbor she can go to until I get home, AND if I'm still not making any money to speak of as an artist, I'll get a real job. And I'll go back to being a hobby artist.

Springtime on the farm

2011-03-08T10:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a lovely spring day here in Grays Harbor County. I took the opportunity to replace the feeder and waterer in the chicken coop and fix the gate to their yard. It was fun hanging out with the happy chickens, who rewarded me with three fresh eggs.

Then I finally addressed the neglected hooves of the three female goats. I should really have someone film this process, which is just not a one-person job. I'm lucky I have dwarf goats, because I have to chase and wrestle them to get a good hold on their forelegs, which I turn up, while pinning the goat against a fence. I quickly scrape the caked mud out of the crevices with the blade of my clippers, cut the overgrown flaps from the edges, and snip off the flesh at the rear of the hoof, which otherwise builds up like a callus. Often, as I'm clipping away on a rear hoof, the goat starts raising the leg higher and higher, rearing up its entire backside, then dropping onto its front knees, moaning pathetically. I try to follow through with my task, getting into a more and more acrobatic position with the goat, a bit like Capoeira. Then I get the goat back upright and start on the next hoof. I usually suffer intense back pain and stiffness after the whole process is over.

Yesterday, I focused on the females because I am going to sell them. The flyer is ready to go to the feed store, and I'm bracing myself to let go of my sweet girls. I hope they will find new homes with more consistent care, and provide milk for someone's family. While I'm spending time with them, I begin to backpedal on my plan. Maybe I should breed them and milk them instead? But, I really don't need one more daily task, and both Mike and Anouk refuse to drink goat milk. I could make cheese and soap, but...will I? We have the humongous garden, bees, and chickens. I think that's plenty. Plus, I'm keeping my two boys.

Speaking of bees, we just ordered a second hive. The first hive was out and about yesterday, enjoying the sun. I hope to get more competent as a beekeeper this year, and to improve the chicken coop a bit. By fall, I want to have a light with a timer in the coop so that we don't go quite so many months without eggs.

Otherwise, we have piles of seeds on our dining room table and kitchen counter, and I'll start weeding and tilling beds this month. Potatoes should go in the ground next week, and I have already planted beets and cauliflower under glass jars (my little experiment.) I still have spinach, kale and parsnips in the dirt, though I have to admit, I have totally lost interest in them.

Every spring feels like a new start. Every year we get a bit better at this.

Hens a-laying

2011-03-03T10:20:00.000-08:00

My chickens stopped laying back in October, and it has been a long winter without them. Some recipes really need eggs, so I found myself standing in the egg isle of a grocery store last month struggling to choose a carton. I had stopped at a big-box grocery store that was conveniently located to fit in my tight schedule that day, so my options were less ideal than if I had gone to the Co-op.

They had some organic eggs, some cage-free eggs, brown eggs, and "natural" eggs. Having read a lot about the way our food is produced, I'm aware that chickens fed organic feed are still likely to be raised in a space no larger than a standard 8" x 10" piece of paper, never stepping foot on the ground or seeing sunlight.

Some people think brown eggs are healthier, but they are no different from white eggs.

Cage-free means that the chickens are kept in large spaces without individual cages, but usually with the same equivalent amount of space. It doesn't mean they have more room to move or that they breath fresh air.

The word "natural" means nothing. It pretty much guarantees that it is a real egg, produced by chickens, and that's it.

Another label that baffles me is "vegetarian-fed." Why would anyone insist that chickens be vegetarian? They are birds. They eat bugs, worms and grubs, along with grains and even vegetable scraps. The protein they consume while ranging outside contributes to their overall health, and the nutrient value of their eggs. You should see them follow me around the garden while I weed and turn over soil, just waiting to spot a moving critter that they quickly snatch up and devour with great enthusiasm.

I finally bought Wilcox Organic eggs, paying top dollar to support the practice of raising chickens "cage free, with access to outdoors, free of antibiotics and hormones." Still, it was disheartening to crack open the first egg to find a runny, butter-yellow yolk that proved to have very little flavor.

The fact is, people who haven't had home-grown eggs don't know what they're missing. I can't tell you how thrilled I am to finally, once again, eat eggs with a rich, almost orange, thick consistency, with flavor to match. I know my chickens live a good life (except for the constant threat of death by raccoon), with no hormones, pecking around in the dirt all day (something chickens NEED to do), taking dust baths in dry areas, basking in the sun when it's out, and NOT being forced into a vegetarian lifestyle. Chickens are very easy to keep and fun to have around. But, if you can't fit chickens into your life, try to buy from local farms. Support happy chickens, local farmers, and the best tasting, most nutritious eggs you'll ever eat.

Pumpkin Pancakes!

2011-03-03T09:53:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, we had company, and Mike made us pumpkin pancakes. They were delicious! They really tasted like a mix of pumpkin pie and pancake, with a rich, creamy texture. So, I'm going to share the recipe, which he found in a Saveur magazine that he found in one of those giveaway piles at the library:

Shopsin's Pumpkin Pancakes

1 3⁄4 cups flour

3 tbsp. sugar

1 tbsp. ground cinnamon

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. ground cloves

1 tsp. ground ginger

1⁄2 tsp. kosher salt

1⁄4 tsp. ground allspice

1 cup canned pumpkin purée (Mike used one of our own pumpkins)

1 cup heavy cream

1⁄2 cup milk

2 eggs, lightly beaten

6 tbsp. canola oil

Butter and maple syrup, for serving

1. In a bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, cinnamon, baking powder, cloves, ginger, salt, and allspice. Add pumpkin, cream, milk, and eggs; whisk until smooth.

2. Heat 1 tbsp. oil in a 12" nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Using a 1⁄4-cup measuring cup, pour batter into skillet to make three 3" pancakes. Cook until bubbles begin to form on the edges, 1–2 minutes. Flip and cook until done, 1–2 minutes more. Repeat with remaining oil and pancake batter. Serve pancakes hot with butter and syrup.

(I had mine with vanilla yogurt, and it was yummy.)

Why is visual art so expensive?

2011-02-16T10:05:00.000-08:00

During a conversation with my mom, she expressed surprise to learn that I have to pay a fee nearly every time I submit art to a jury. I thought of how often my prices are questioned, and how people make comments to suggest that the price should be based on the amount of time it took to create each individual piece.

This mosaic, for instance, took about 3 weeks to complete, though it took many weeks of sketching, and much longer to gather and prepare materials. I manage to salvage most of my materials (a typical mosaic artist probably spends about $100 per square foot just on tesserae), but I collect them when and where I can, spending time finding and sorting them. My bases (in this case, an old window frame) are from salvage yards, the side of the road, contractors, or people who seek me out when they want to clear out some junk. I spend as much time cleaning, sanding, priming, re-glazing and painting my bases as I do making art. Other mosaic artists prefer to purchase manufactured bases, ready to use, and that gets expensive.

Tools and materials are only a small part of a professional artist's expenses. Once I have hand-cut my odd-shaped glass shards, taking time to file the corners of each piece, carefully adhering them into a design, and the work is finished, I then have to sell it. Much of my work is commissioned, in which case I already have a deposit, and final payment is owed on delivery. But my commissions seem to come in spurts, and I can go 6 months with no projects. During this time, I make individual mosaic panels to sell at art shows and galleries. I meet with potential clients, many of whom decide to put their project on the back burner, saying they will get back to me (sometimes they do.) I sketch and research and experiment.

There are a few organizations that post Calls to Artists, so I am constantly perusing these, submitting to the ones that apply to me. Most public art submissions are free, but most juried exhibits and festivals require a fee. Exhibits increase an artist's exposure and contribute to the perceived value of the art, and festivals are a good way to sell a lot of art directly to customers in a short time, but those jury fees sure add up. For the exhibit I was discussing with my mom, it costs $25 per image, I have no idea whether the juror will find my work at all appealing, and the work won't be for sale when the show takes place. In addition, once I have submitted a piece, I cannot sell it or submit it to another jury until I am rejected, which can take many months. If I'm rejected, I still lose my jury fee.

In the meantime, I may take some work to one of the galleries that represents me. Some galleries take 40%, but most take 50%. It can be very bittersweet to get a $30 check for something that took 3 full days to make.

As local people have become more familiar with me and my work, I am constantly asked for donations. I think I get at least 20 donation requests per year, and I donate to about half of them. It is very difficult to say no, especially in a small community, and when so many of my friends are involved in various kinds of fundraising, all for good causes. But the value of my donations adds up to about 50% of my gross income, which is kind of crazy. My artist and musician friends have all felt this same pressure to give away their work, and some are becoming increasingly frustrated. How many other professionals are asked to give so much?

It speaks to an overall perception that working as an artist is not really work; that it is done out of pure love and inspiration without real effort or sacrifice. Although I spent my childhood and youth planning to become an "Artist", I now find myself telling strangers that I do custom mosaic tile installations. According to the general population, "Artist" is not a respectable occupation.

Well, that covers some of the overhead for an artist, but each of us has different markets and specific expenses. A friend who wholesales her work has many flights to buyers' markets, huge booth fees, staff, and the cost of printing her art onto a variety of products. Another must rent large warehouses, import wool, ship large work to museums, and pay engineers to install amazing felt draperies that suspend from vaulted ceilings. Some have to pay to use specialized studios and equipment to make their glass or clay work. There is the annual Society of American Mosaic Artists conference that costs thousands to get to, and workshops to learn new techniques and skills.

To someone uninterested in art, it may all seem superfluous, but I'll bet they don't question the huge salaries of actors, pop musicians, or even professional athletes. Visual artists may provide a quieter sort of entertainment, but we provoke and delight, and civilization would be very dull without us. So there.

Community-based mosaic murals

2011-02-03T09:48:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, I am flying to Oakland, CA to attend a workshop on Facilitating Community Mosaic Projects with Josef Norris. This is something I've been interested in for some time, following the work of Josef Norris's group Kid Serve as they work in schools to create amazing mosaic murals with the students, and also following Laurel True's work in Ghana and Haiti. Community-based mosaic is a fun way to bring groups of people together for healing, empowerment, and beautification of otherwise plain concrete walls.

This one was made by pre-schoolers, their parents, and adult volunteers.

Through the magic of facebook, I've been offered lodging on a houseboat near the Institute of Mosaic Art, and I am so very excited to go away for the weekend on my own. I hope to come back and begin covering the sides of buildings with fun mosaic murals, along with members of community groups and schools.

Winter squash risotto

2011-02-03T09:37:00.000-08:00

Just a quick follow-up to my squash recipe quandry: I looked up a standard recipe for winter squash risotto online that used ingredients I happened to have on hand. Feeling lazy, I put all of the ingredients into my rice-cooker and pushed the "cook" button. I opened it quickly after it had been cooking for a bit and stirred it all up, then closed it and let it finish.

It was yummy! It worked! So, if you are like me, and just not into real cooking, try putting a fancy rice recipe into the rice cooker and let it do the work for you. My husband even liked it.

In need of winter squash inspiration.

2010-12-22T19:13:00.000-08:00

I have avoided writing about life on the farm for a few months, in part because I worry that the "I grew some vegetables" and the "yet another animal died" stories get redundant and dull. We suffered a particularly difficult loss of our beloved 7-year-old cat in early November and, as a result, we rehomed our youngest, most problematic, dog. It was all horrible and traumatic, but we have moved on. We now have two very well-behaved dogs, a lovely 8-month-old cat, and two adorable, rescued kittens. Life seems to be back in balance.

Our five chickens have been molting since October, so no eggs. Hopefully, they will begin again in January.

But, tonight, I'm thinking about winter squash. Since I've known Mike, he has had a passion for pumpkins. We rented a house from friends when we were first married, and he pushed hard to develop a pumpkin patch on the lot. When we moved out to our property, he made sure to allot a section of the garden to pumpkins. Over the years, we have become more interested in preserving heirloom varieties, so we now grow all sorts of unusual vegetables, including winter squash.

I can never remember the names of them all, but we grow Marina DiChioggia and Hubbard and Red Bumpy Things. We harvest and store these, and they comprise a large portion of our winter food supply.

However, I'm just not great at cooking these things and, furthermore, Mike doesn't even really care for the flavor of squash! I've done pumpkin soup, pumpkin risotto, pumpkin gnocchi, pumpkin cookies and breads, but I usually just puree it up with butter and maple syrup. Anouk refuses to eat any of it, as the texture makes her gag. I was just online yet again, searching for good, easy pumpkin recipes, to no avail. I'm not interested in super-complicated gourmet recipes, or those involving bacon or sausage. I'd like to be able to concoct something with what I have on hand and create some simple dishes, but with different spices or ingredients. If there's a simple, savory squash recipe, I have yet to find it.

A friend recently served a veggie lasagne with winter squash as one ingredient, and it was delicious, so I would like to try that myself. If anyone out there has good ideas for new ways to spice up squash, or even hide it in other dishes, please send them to me. I'll give them a whirl and post the results.

In the meantime, Happy Solstice to All, and to All a Good Night!

Honing

2010-11-23T13:05:00.000-08:00

My newest Elaine Goodman book arrived last week, The Human Form in Mosaic. I have not read the book carefully yet, but I've been noting different techniques she demonstrates for depicting figures and portraits, while scanning the text. Between the recent trip to Turkey and this book, I was inspired to take a break from the Rapunzel series to just practice. I used some small scraps of wedi given to me by my tile-setter friend, Frank Lynam.

For the first, I found a photo in a 1970 National Geographic I happen to have of a Tibetan refugee. I did a very simplified sketch of her face and proceeded to fill in the spaces with my stained glass scraps. This is a very different style than my usual faces, less stylized, more emotional. I usually create faces that express a certain contentment, peace, and joy. This face expresses pain and loss. My goal was to do my first portrait based on a photograph, and to see if I could create contours without andamento. I'm pretty happy with it as a first attempt, but disappointed in myself for the inadvertent extended groutlines, particularly the one slashing her left cheek like a giant wound.

Next, I designed a face from imagination, more true to my usual style. Again, there is one particularly offensive groutline that seemed like a good idea at the time; that curved shape that runs from under her eye to the hairline. I don't know what I was thinking, but sometimes these mistakes become glaringly clear once the piece is grouted. Also, I wanted to add detail in the iris by cutting tiny little pieces of glass as rays from the pupil. It makes her look like a zombie instead. It might have worked in an ungrouted mosaic, but not here. I am tempted to paint the groutlines there to solidify the iris.

I am finding Elaine Goodman's book very helpful, but I feel that a hands-on workshop is really necessary. I hope to invest in one sometime this year. In the meantime, I'll actually read this book and keep practicing. I'm registered for a mural workshop with Josef Norris at IMA in February and I plan to begin facilitating community mosaic this Spring.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

2010-11-18T08:47:00.000-08:00

Here is a terrible photo of my first Rapunzel mosaic. While designing a concrete sculpture back in September, I had an image of an exhibit featuring multiples of this image, done in different materials, colors and styles. I decided this would be a fun way to practice various techniques while drawing on one character from fairy tale lore.

I've always been captivated by fairy tales. I had a very thick collection of Grimms Fairy Tales as a child that I read over and over, and I now read them to my daughter. I think I re-read Rapunzel so many times because I found it so frustrating that Rapunzel wouldn't just cut off her long hair and use it as a rope to climb out of the tower. Or that the prince wouldn't simply bring a ladder or rope right away. What was the point of dragging out the process? Meanwhile, I wasn't allowed to cut my hair as a girl, so it grew down to my butt, always full of nasty tangles. My mom was known for her long, blonde hair, and she still refuses to cut it to a more manageable length.

I used this Rapunzel as an experiment with using small square tesserae to create facial contours. This piece is quite small for me (I prefer wall-sized projects), and it was a challenge for me to cut each little salvaged stained glass scrap into squares. I quickly began to feel impatient with it, but it was a good exercise for me. I think it is important, at this point, to go back and learn the foundations of mosaic technique, in depth. While I worked on this piece, I waited for the arrival of my newest mosaic book, The Human Form in Mosaic by Elaine M. Goodwin. I'm looking forward to practicing with some new methods, nicely outlined in the book. Hopefully, within 6 months to a year, I'll find a gallery space and have a real art show with Rapunzel as the central theme.

By the way, my choice of themes is in no way related to the Disney movie that must have just been released. Pure coincidence.

Mosaic artist returns from Turkey with tail between legs.

2010-11-05T10:43:00.000-07:00

We returned from Turkey one week ago, and I still feel disoriented. The jet-lag was made more difficult by my 7-year-old who spent the first several days home on opposite-time, so the transition back to our regular schedule has been very hard. It has been a struggle for me to get back to work in the studio after an entire month off, and while I expected to come home full of ideas and creative energy, instead I feel completely stumped.

I am a self-taught mosaic artist, having taken only one workshop, though I've read a lot of mosaic books and I spent the past 10 years working hard to learn the technical aspects of the medium. One area I have not really covered, mainly for lack of interest, is classical mosaic. When I planned the Turkey trip, I felt it would be a good opportunity to force myself to learn about the history of my craft, and to appreciate those early styles.

During a tour in Cappadocia, we had a very knowledgeable Turkish guide who led us through a Hittite-era underground city, a Byzantine Cathedral carved in rock, and a beautiful canyon lined with signs of early civilization. He was able to talk about geological, cultural and religious history in detail, without notes. Though from a Muslim background, he explained more about the Bible and Christianity than most American Christians have learned in a lifetime, with respect and fairness. When he learned that I am a mosaic artist, he asked, "So, which do you prefer; Greek or Byzantine mosaic style?" Feeling supremely ignorant, I just said that my style is contemporary, and I was there to learn more about the classic styles. Honestly, I didn't know the difference. Did I mention that I've been a professional mosaic artist for 10 years? He quickly lost interest in me at that point.

Throughout the second week of the trip, we visited many more sites featuring examples of Byzantine mosaic, and I was utterly impressed. The level of skill was amazing, and nothing compares to seeing it in person. Mosaic artists know this: you see a mosaic in print, but when you see the real thing, it is a different experience, often unexpected. I started out cutting my tesserae into little squares and placing them in rows to fill spaces, but later began to abandon that method, preferring a more free-flow approach that makes better use of my salvaged materials. But the work I saw in the Sultanahmet Mosaic Museum and Kariye Church was so stunning and made such a strong impression on me, I feel compelled to learn to use my andamento more effectively.

There's a bit of a struggle in my brain right now between the part of me that wants to stick with the style I know and enjoy, and the part that wants to challenge myself to learn another way, and to become more versatile. I have a project on the table now, the first in a series of Rapunzel mosaics, that is an attempt to bring some of that classic style into my contemporary work. It is more time consuming, and I hate working with such tiny pieces, but I think it is good practice. We'll see where it takes me.

Not Constantinople...

2010-10-04T09:01:00.000-07:00

Close to 20 years ago, when I was tracing the origins of religion in college, I wanted to go to Anatolia to visit archeological sites. But I never went. Then, when I was a member of Raqs Halim Middle Eastern dance troupe, performing with a live band to predominately Turkish music, I mingled with many people from Turkey and talked about saving for a trip to the region. But I didn't. Now, as a mosaic artist, I have even more reason to visit Turkey. The place is full of ancient mosaics, intricate tiles and incredible architecture. Istanbul is enjoying great success, with a thriving arts community, and there are many prominent mosaic artists living and working there.

In March, at the Society of American Mosaic Artists conference in Chicago, I happened to sit at a table with one other person. He introduced himself as Suha Semerci from Istanbul, and we muddled through polite conversation in very simple words because he was just learning English. During the rest of the conference, we touched bases occasionally, and we have kept in touch by email and facebook over the past 6 months.

Mike and I have planned a trip to Istanbul, in detail, in the past, but we never saved enough money to go. We finally scraped together a small chunk, along with two no-interest credit card offers, and we are going for it. I was very excited to have a personal contact in Istanbul, and Suha has been very generous about offering suggestions and looking for information to help us plan. But more connections keep developing, and it looks like I will have a busy social calendar while I'm there. At every turn, something else falls into place, and it promises to be a very rich experience.


Here's Suha at work.

When I get back, I'll definitely post some of the highlights of the trip. We will visit beautiful mosques, take a ferry down the Bosphorus, see the mosaic museum, have tea with colleagues, meet many new friends, and ride camels in Goreme.


We'll stay in a cave hotel in Cappadocia, among the "fairy chimneys."

We leave on the 15th of October, and will be there for two weeks. As you can imagine, we are getting very excited! I feel like this trip is a culmination of many interests, and it is sure to be very inspirational.

Stealth Raccoon.

2010-10-04T08:30:00.000-07:00

As you may know, your standard Thanksgiving turkey is a genetic mutation, developed to produce the most food for the least money and effort. The resulting creature cannot carry its own weight after a year and is unable to reproduce naturally, in addition to being flavorless and shot full of hormones and antibiotics. Heritage breed turkeys are making a little bit of a comeback, and we have jumped on that bandwagon for the past few years.

Each year, we order turkey chicks from several states away, and they are shipped to us in a box through the U.S. postal system (which seems none too happy with the arrangement.) There are always a couple of dead or dying chicks in the box, and we usually lose a few more before they stabilize in a warm spot in our bathroom.

My goal has been to get them to breed, and eventually eliminate the need to order and ship live baby animals, because it just seems so ridiculous. They are expensive, too, at about $15 per chick. However, they no longer possess their natural instincts. Males often can't figure out what to do with their hormones, females think I am their mate, and eggs get dropped randomly in the yard, left to quickly grow cold.

This year, I managed to get one still-warm egg under a broody hen, who successfully hatched and raised it. It was a female, and I had high hopes that she might have some inherent maternal instincts, and my plan would finally begin to work. But, just now, when I opened the coop to let the flock out for the day, I found a bloody, headless body on the floor. At first, there was no sign of a break-in, but I finally found a spot near the roof where the chicken-wire had been pried apart. I am grateful that only one of our 6 turkeys was killed, but it appears to be my baby. My one hope.

Butchering will take place sometime this week, by my good, efficient friends at Barnyard Gardens. I'm taking the whole bunch in, and will start again in the spring. I can't imagine the amount of work and investment involved in a real business raising and selling free-range, organic, heritage turkeys, but I am certain that those doing it deserve every penny of the steep price.

Harvest time again!

2010-09-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

Last year by this time, I was harvesting and storing as fast as I could go, listening to "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" on cd to keep motivated, and delivering bags of fresh produce to the local food bank every week. But, if you read my spring posts, you know we had delays and frustration, and the weather was very cold during early summer. So, we are definitely eating lots of yummy fresh food these days, but not giving much away.

Here's part of the veggie garden, looking toward the pumpkin patch. You can see that we harvested and tilled two of the raised beds, and the last one was just planted with winter broccoli.

The bees have been working all over our garden, but the honey super is empty. We removed the queen excluder, hoping they would start building some comb on those frames, but it seems like we might not get honey this year.

If you look carefully at this shot, you can see that our tomato plants are laden with beautful GREEN tomatoes. If they do finally turn red, it will likely happen all at once, so I'll be trying to find ways to use and store all of them. My fear is that they will just begin to go bad, without ever ripening. Everyone I know has had the same tomato trouble this year, blaming it on the cool early summer temps.

One new thing we did this year was to hand-pollinate our cucumbers and squashes. Anouk learned to do it very well, so she helps to keep on top of it. I feel like I have a much more intimate relationship with my vegetables. It's interesting to see the female flowers open, waiting eagerly for some action, then to look for the male flowers, with their very male anatomy, and to intervene on their behalf. Sometimes a plant will have a ton of females, with no males in sight, and other times it's the opposite. And it is always sad to see the withered fruit of a female that was never pollinated; a loss of potential food. Since we started hand-pollinating, we have so many more cucumbers, it's amazing! And they are absolutely delicious.

I thought I would end with a photo of one of our Romanesco Cauliflowers, because this has to be my favorite thing growing in the garden right now. Isn't it fantastic?

Concrete garden mushroom project

2010-08-25T11:06:00.000-07:00

Here is a fun project that would be fairly simple for anyone to do at home, and kids can help. This came from Creative Concrete Ornaments for the Garden by Sherri Warner Hunter, though the mushrooms in the book are far more finished looking than our first attempt. They are still cute.

First, we filled some plastic storage bins with sand. Any large containers will work for this. Then we made indentations in the general shape of mushroom tops, inverted. Anouk placed glass gems and bottle tops in the sand for decoration.

Next, we mixed up the concrete (one part cement, three parts sand, about one part water) and let Anouk put the concrete into the forms. *We mixed it too thick. It should have been pour-able. Now we know.

We pressed small pieces of rebar into the centers and allowed them to begin setting up while we made the stem forms out of tar paper. I'm sure there are other materials, but the book called for tar paper, and we had plenty of scrap from building projects. We made them into tubes, held together with duct tape, and placed them around the rebar. We then poured concrete into the tubes.

We were supposed to wait 12 hours, but they were ready to unwrap in about 6 (probably because the mix was too thick.) I had to fill in some gaps with grout, but they are pretty cute, and now they have a happy home in our shade garden.

Carving Concrete

2010-08-21T09:51:00.000-07:00

A couple of weekends ago, I headed to Seattle to attend a workshop taught by Elder G. Jones , an artist who carves wet concrete into beautiful garden art. His work is featured throughout my three books on making concrete forms, so it was an exciting opportunity for me. I have big ideas for making sculpture, incorporating trash, inlaying mosaic, and generally expanding my skills.

The workshop was great, and I was very happy with the pot that I carved.

So, for my first project at home, I decided to go with the most technically challenging possibility. Mike has been building a wood-fired pizza oven, and the exterior is unfinished. For my first trick, I wanted to enclose the hideous chimney assembly in carved concrete, which meant building a form around an existing structure on an uneven surface.

Above: the chimney before, and then right after I removed the form, made of aluminum sheeting. The towel hanging down in front was used to hold the concrete in at the base, but I had to carve it out of the partially cured block.

The form is removed when the concrete is firm enough to hold its shape, but soft enough to carve into. At this point, it feels like carving into a very stiff sand sculpture. You have to be very gentle, or it will come away in chunks. But, it quickly begins to harden, so from here, you just work steadily until it sets up completely, which is about 5-6 hours. (No breaks!)

I've been enamored by the phoenix image lately, and it seemed like a fitting symbol for the top of a wood-fired oven. The front is the body and head, and the wings wrap around, meeting in the back.

I know concrete doesn't really fit the "sustainable art" description, but really, on this level, it is pretty harmless compared to entire city blocks, overpasses, and campuses. My next step is to find local sandblasters who want to unload used sand, which comprises 3/4 of the mix. And, as I become more skilled, my plan is to create sculptures that have a core of plastic garbage; the bottle caps, adhesive tubes, and random packaging that I can't seem to keep out of my trash. This way, they will become part of a permanent, solid object that is functional and beautiful, instead of floating around in the ocean, slowly breaking down, being ingested by sea animals over and over and over for all of eternity.
Yes, I obsess about these things.

Harvesting

2010-08-10T09:20:00.000-07:00

I haven't been keeping up with this blog thing at all this summer because we are so very busy, it feels like a major indulgence. Right now, I can hear the goats bleating for breakfast, and the chickens and turkeys are still cooped. Mike is off to a training and Anouk is still fast asleep.

Because of our garden delays early in the summer, we are not getting nearly the harvest we had last year.
Thanks to my friend Shari, we have a few broccoli plants that are finally growing edible parts, and a ton of cabbage is going to be ready soon. Our daily meals now include chard, zucchini, cucumbers and salads. We have many freezer bags full of raspberries, and I'm starting to freeze veggies for winter. We are anxiously waiting for the green tomatoes to turn color, and it seems very late in the season. We will have many carrots this year, an inordinate amount of parsnips, and it even looks like we'll have some corn after all. The goats had munched the tops off in the spring, but they actually grew back and have cobs developing now. And we always grow many heirloom pumpkins.

Meanwhile, I am working in the studio as often as possible to finish a set of glass cabinet doors for a client. My work has involved submitting for calls for art and exhibits, trying to keep track of which pieces have been submitted to which shows, meaning I just have to hold onto them until I am accepted or rejected. Upcoming events include a show at Childhoods End in Olympia called 15 Ways with Light, an exhibit at the Washington Center for Performing Arts called 25 Feet of Art, the Sequim Glass Art Festival, and the Red Hot Party & Auction at the Museum of Glass in Tacoma. All of that takes place in September. I can't even think about October yet.

Well, Anouk is up and I really need to feed her and the rest of the critters under my care.

Garden blues

2010-06-16T07:48:00.000-07:00

Our vegetable garden is just not off to a very successful start this year. When we first started planting from seed, the chickens were accessing the garden, munching to their hearts' content. We brought home starts for the greenhouse, but the door wasn't latching properly, so they got in and ate all of the cucumbers, eggplant, and broccoli. We replaced the starts, fixed the door, reseeded the outside beds, and kept going.

The peas tried to come up, but something has been eating them. For some reason, the beets just won't grow. Our weather has been unseasonably cold and rainy (payback for the mild winter and early spring, resulting in a major slug invasion), which might explain why so many of my seeded veggies are still little stumpy sprouts.

We have planted the greenhouse, and we should at least have lots of tomatoes and basil. They are doing well. But our broccoli hopes have dwindled each week as one after another animal has busted into the garden and eaten every last one of them. We thought we were safe when we constructed a chicken fortress, entirely enclosed by chicken wire (which will also allow us to stay out past dusk on occasion without fear of raccoon massacre.) But, the goats have pried fencing apart 3 times now, devastating anything remotely yummy.

We love our goats, but milking was abandoned years ago out of frustration. Now, they are pets that live in the barn. During the winter, I feed them in the morning and at night, but that is all. I can't keep up with vaccinations or hoof trimming, so I just feel guilty for being a bad goat mom. They are so sweet and affectionate, and, for the most part, they have a great life here, but I think they could do better than us. So, I'm considering finding them some greener pastures. It really is about time we did something to make our lives easier instead of harder. But, the yard will be so lonely without goats...

I plan to replant today for the 3rd time, but we'll have only a few broccoli plants, no corn at all, and the sunflowers and nasturtiums that usually line the edge of the garden will be missing.

The good news is that our broody chicken hatched a baby turkey, and it seems to be doing well. I have hopes that a few more of the eggs she is sitting on will hatch so that we take one small step toward breeding our own turkeys.

Recycling an inflatable mattress:

2010-06-10T09:44:00.000-07:00

My daughter wanted to have a slumber party for her 7th birthday, so we had 3 girls over for the night. My plan was to blow up the inflatable mattress and have 2 girls in her loft bed with 2 on the floor underneath. The mattress is about 3 years old, and has been used quite a bit for camping trips, tent camping in the backyard, and sleepovers at the high school where my husband works (something the students get to do occasionally.)

I was disgusted to find, as I unpacked the mattress, that I must have failed to thoroughly dry it before packing it last time it was used, nearly a year ago. The soft surface was covered in a thick layer of mold! I used layers of blankets for the girls to sleep on and threw the mattress outside to deal with later.

On the next dry day, I used a bit of bleach (I know, I know) in a spray bottle to try to kill the mold, hoping to salvage the mattress. Then Mike reminded me that, the last couple of times we used the mattress, it deflated by morning. I was still thinking I could scrub the mold off and maybe patch a leak, just because I knew I couldn't bring myself to throw this huge amount of PVC into the trash.

Here's what I know about PVC: The manufacturing of the stuff creates dioxins, which are leaked into the environment. People who work in PVC factories frequently get throat and lung cancer from breathing the fumes. People who live in areas surrounding the factories have a much higher incidence of cancer, and PVC companies spend huge amounts of money making settlements in order to keep the information from making the news. There is no safe way to dispose of PVC. Burning it creates nasty toxins. If you just leave it in a landfill, it photo-degrades, releasing dioxins into the environment. The stuff is evil. And it is everywhere, because it is such a perfect material for things like air mattresses, raincoats, and shower curtains.

So, here I was, knowing all of this because I once watched a really great documentary called "Blue Vinyl", and with a queen-sized pile of moldy PVC serving as a new kind of home decor. What is an obsessive-compulsive recycler to do?

First, I began by cutting the seams of the mattress, along the sides. I found that there were flaps inside holding the top and bottom together so that, while inflated, it would maintain a mattressy shape. So, I cut these apart as well.

And, like other normal people, I saved each and every one of these clear flaps of pvc, because you never know when they might come in handy, right?

As it happens, one of my dogs has had some kind of stomach upset lately, and it has been pouring rain for days, and she therefore has opted to spew feces all over our covered back porch, which is the launching pad for the dog yard. This porch tends to be decorated with all sorts of flotsam, with the dogs spending so much time there, and I had just finished spraying it down once again before I stared on my mattress deconstruction project. As I cut the top surface away, I suddenly realized the practical purpose:

It is the perfect size for the porch, and will make future clean-ups much easier. I folded the bottom segment and stored it for now. I am thinking of using it as a booth floor at Cracked Pots, or a mat for my studio floor, or for putting down when I cut glass outside. The sides of the mattress were also cut out, in one long strip about a foot wide. I might use that to sew some handy waterproof totes.

I feel pretty triumphant for managing to keep this thing out of the waste stream....for now. Unfortunately, this material will not last forever, and will probably make its way to the garbage can, little by little, despite my best intentions. This is the problem with plastics. We can recycle and reuse, but they do eventually get thrown out. This is my second air mattress, and I will not buy another one. They are so useful, and my daughter is begging me to replace it, but there has to be a better way. We will be camping at the end of this month, and I really hate sleeping on the cold, lumpy ground. I would love suggestions for an inexpensive, eco-friendly way to create a somewhat soft bed. Feel free to send me ideas.

A very busy June...

2010-06-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

My blogging has focused on the farm lately, but my studio work has been just as demanding. Over Memorial Day Weekend, I finished grouting the 2.5' x 4' mosaic panel that I've been working on since March, which will be delivered tomorrow. (The photo above is the top portion of the panel, featuring Mt. Rainier as seen from Federal Way, WA on a clear day.)

I knew that I would be barely making the deadline, but a guy stopped by my place on May 5th to ask if I could squeeze in another project. He is part of a group that holds a race each year, and they will be cycling past my house on June 5th. Each year they hire a local artist to create 12 creative, funky awards to give the winners of the race. They have a tiny budget, and it was kind of insane to say yes, but I couldn't resist. Each day in the studio, I would warm up by making one 6" x 6" plaque, and I just finished grouting them yesterday. Each one is done onto scraps of wedi board given to me by my friend Frank, a top-notch tile installer, and I used all scrap glass and mirror.

This week, I'm preparing for a workshop I'll be teaching at Hexen Glass Studio (http://www.hexenglass.com). I will be teaching how to use mosaic in the garden, discussing bases and adhesives for exterior use (which translates to many architectural applications as well). Students will mosaic onto salvaged cement pieces, creating recycled garden ornaments.

On Monday the 7th, I'll be exhibiting at the Green Enterprise Conference near Elma.

Olympia Pediatrics is holding their open house on June 10th, celebrating their new clinic and the art that makes it stand apart from every other pediatric office in the area. I was privileged to coordinate with two other artists; muralist Heather Taylor-Zimmerman and textile artist Janice Arnold.

Then on the 18th, the Federal Way Senior Center will hold its celebration and unveiling of the new art on their site, which also has an amazing community garden and a food bank.

I'll be starting on a project for a private home next week; glass-on-glass mosaic cabinet doors that will feature irises and Western Tanagers, and will be lit from inside. In addition, I'll be working on inventory for July's Cracked Pots Recycled Garden Art sale. And I actually have several projects planned just for us, including our stair risers.

So, I don't just run the chicken infirmary, chase goats, harvest mushrooms, tend bees, weed, plant, clean and parent. I'm multi-dimensional!

More Poultry News

2010-05-31T11:03:00.000-07:00

I have been seeding some of our garden beds for the past couple of months with pathetic results. The seeds are coming up sparsely, and my peas look awful. The chickens had made a hole in the base of their fenced area and were spending a lot of time in the veggie garden, and I think they may have been eating my seeds and sprouts.

In the meantime, we had been raising a ton of starts in the greenhouse, and had a goal of getting them in the ground on Memorial Day Weekend. Mike did some final tilling and weeding, and we planted the greenhouse with tomatoes, cucumbers, basil and melons, with carrot seeds sprinkled throughout the tomatoes. Then we planted a lot of broccoli and cauliflower, because Anouk loves them and they freeze well, and we lined the garden with zucchini, sunflowers and nasturtiums. Then, we went to a party in Olympia.

What were we thinking? We came home to find all of the broccoli and cauliflower demolished, along with some of the other starts. Urrrgh! This discovery was followed by long talks about the fact that we are pretty overwhelmed, and not keeping up with everything. We should have secured the chicken yard and clipped wings before planting the garden. There is so much that needs to be done and the two of us can't manage it all. As always, we talked about packing it all in and moving to the suburbs.

But, we aren't giving up. Things get much easier when Mike is home for the summer. I'm trying to convince him that we can find ways to save money so that he doesn't have to work his after school program, which would give him an extra 3 hours at home every day.

Yesterday, he took Anouk to Seattle to help a friend set up his new chicken coop, and I decided to go to yet another party. I came home late, and closed up the coop, hoping the chickens had put themselves away as they do each night. At 3am, I heard the telltale gurgled screeching outside. My dog Lily and I ran out to investigate, but we couldn't find the chicken. I returned to the house, but heard it again. Again, we searched , until we finally found a bedraggled chicken in a corner of the goat yard, very much alive. I couldn't see her very well, but feathers were everywhere, so I knew she had been mauled. I moved her to the coop and went to bed. (Not to sleep. I can never fall back to sleep after running around outside in the middle of the night.)

This morning, I can see that she is in bad shape. She is moving around well, but is missing part of a wing, and a good deal of flesh from her back and underbelly. She has puncture wounds all over. My friend Paul would tell me to kill her and put her out of her misery, but my inclination is always to try to save animals. They can be remarkably tenacious. In a few minutes, I plan to put her into a separate area to protect her from the other chickens (and that damned turkey) and I hope she'll recover.

We will be completely enclosing the chickens this summer by creating a covered run. So much for free-range. The fact is, after 8 years, we have learned that free-ranging results in a lot of death and mangling by local wildlife.

In the meantime, we lost 3 turkey poults during the first week, until I added some antibiotics to their water. I also put sand in their feed to help move food through their craws. They stabilized quickly, and are healthy and growing fast. They are now living in an enclosed coop we use as wood storage and as a transition area for our young birds. Our two baby chickens are still living in the bathroom. They now fly in and out of their box, so I have to clean the floor periodically.

Our brooding chicken is incubating 5 turkey eggs. I plan to remove them as soon as they hatch because I don't trust the rooster, duck and Tom turkey with babies.

Life on the little farm is feeling a bit daunting at the moment. We need to create better systems and re-prioritize. The green house starts are already doubled in size, so if nothing else, we'll be eating tomatoes and cucumbers this year. Now I'm off to rehabilitate a chicken.

Turkey News - babies!

2010-05-18T09:16:00.000-07:00

Well, my female turkey has been laying, and she sometimes sits on an egg for short periods, but I always find them cold by the end of the day. It turns out, turkey eggs are fine for eating, so I've used them for baking. In the meantime, I've had one broody hen laying on a chicken egg for many weeks. A couple of days ago, I found that egg left untended and stone cold. The hen had moved to a different spot, so I slipped a warm turkey egg under her. She has been tending it for a few days. I opened the egg she had been sitting on to find a dead chicken fetus inside, nearly full term. Who knows why she suddenly abandoned it?

Last Thursday, our order of turkey chicks arrived. There were 15, to be shared among 3 families. They are hatched and shipped the same day, and I'm finally getting used to picking up a box of live creatures from my local post office. However, it seems so strange, and I really hope that we will begin to raise our own turkeys so they don't start their lives bumping around in a box. In previous years, I've opened the box to find at least one dead, and it seems brutal. This year, all were alive and well, except that one had a malformed foot. It seemed otherwise healthy, so I kept an eye on it. Over the weekend, its legs became weaker, and on Sunday, it slowly died. It was painful to watch and Anouk sobbed, wailing, "It's only a baby! It's not fair!" I have no idea what was wrong with it. Possibly a nerve disorder? Or maybe its gimpy foot made it too difficult to get sufficient food and water. Whatever the reason, Anouk and I held a modest funeral, burying it in the kitchen garden and planting the grave with a columbine.

We bury a lot of animals.

Anouk's class incubated chicken eggs this spring, tracking fetal development with charts and photos. They hatched last week, and she won a lottery allowing her to bring two home (with permission, of course.) So on Friday, I put them in with the turkeys under a heat lamp in our bathroom. As a rule, chickens and turkeys are not supposed to be kept together, but I can't figure out another arrangement with our limited space. There is one disease that chickens can carry that is fatal to turkeys. However, we've been taking that chance for years with no problems.

So, it seems that our attempts to breed our adult turkeys hasn't worked this year. We will cull the adult male turkey and try again in a year. It is my theory that they need to relearn long lost instincts, so I feel we need to give our female more time. In the meantime, I'll start trying to steal her eggs before they get cold and either incubate them or get a chicken to do it for me.

The Morel of the Story

2010-05-17T10:31:00.000-07:00

Growing up in Northern Michigan forest, it was a family tradition to hunt for morels every year. This was one of my grandpa's favorite activities, along with fishing and drinking. My memories of mushroom hunting are strong and visceral, including the smells of dry forest and that distinctive aroma when the knife severs a fresh morel. There was the slow walk through the woods, scanning every tree, checking directions, moss, any rotten log. And when someone spotted one of the elusive fungi, we all swarmed that area, knowing that there would be more nearby. Usually, we suddenly realized we had been looking at them all along, but couldn't see them, like an optical illusion. Later, my parents would saute them in butter; another strong memory because those were some of the few "happy family" moments at our house, and I still remember the smell of warm butter-soaked morels.

Western Washington is not considered a place to find morels, so I was surprised 3 years ago to find a few growing in our backyard, right against the house. They were huge and healthy, so I battered and fried them and served them to my family. Anouk loved them until Mike came home and said they were disgusting. She has refused to take a bite ever since.

Last year, they popped up in the gravel in our front yard, not far from the front door. There were about 100, all healthy, modestly sized. I gave most of them away.

This year, I was disappointed that I didn't see morels in the gravel again in April. I searched for any signs of baby morels popping up, and finally gave up on it. And one day, Mike noticed a couple between the rocks in our perennial garden. We started looking around and realized there were close to 100 right in nearby garden beds. Over the weeks, we kept finding more, with most of them growing right outside my kitchen door. One day, I was so astonished by the numbers, I counted how many were growing in about a 4' x 3' bed, and there were 133! I'm sure there have been hundreds by now, all over the garden.

I've been giving the morels away to people who will appreciate them - bags full. Still, I find that they have been waning and getting sort of dry on top. When the weather turned warm and sunny, I worried that they would all shrivel up, so I harvested pounds of them last Friday. Following directions I found online, I strung them on thread with a needle and hung them to dry.

This has worked very well. They are all shriveled into little crispy nuggets and are stored in a paper bag in my pantry. Yesterday, while watering our raspberries, I discovered ANOTHER good sized patch of morels. Big, juicy ones. So I picked them , soaked them, and I'm trying a different method. I'm laying them on the counter on a dry towel, and will turn them regularly. I think this will work just as well, without the comedy of me stringing them, losing my grip so they all fall on the floor, washing them, re-stringing, etc. Besides, now the first batch are all snugly dried on strings, like really ugly necklaces, and I'm not sure how to take them off to cook them.

Speaking of cooking morels, I found this recipe online, which I think I will try:

1/2 pound of fresh morels2 tablespoons unsalted buttersalt & pepper to taste4 cups of chicken stock (degreased if home made)4 egg yolks1 cup heavy creamClean morels and cut into small, spoon size pieces.Heat butter in 2 qt. saucepan, then add morels & salt & pepper. Cover & simmer for about 10 minutes stirring occasionally. Add the stock & bring just to the boil. Meanwhile mix the egg yolks & heavy cream together in a separate bowl. Slowly add this mixture to the stock & morels & heat it while stirring till hot but do not let it boil or the eggs will curdle. Taste & correct the seasoning with salt & pepper and a little lemon juice if you'd like. Serves 4 normal people or 1 or 2 morel maniacs!

I am baffled by the way our morels have migrated to entirely different parts of the yard, and hope they will return next spring. I am careful to cut them, rather than pull out the stem. When I soak them, I pour the water back into the garden beds, hoping any spores will reproduce. Apparently, it takes 5 years for new morels to grow, so it's possible I'll see them return to the other areas in the future. I welcome any advice from readers about propagating and cooking morels.

Catching Up

2010-05-10T09:12:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in quite some time because I am a bit behind on my latest commission and it is hard to justify time at the computer. I often get distracted in the studio, and can easily find that I spent an hour trying to make insects out of cork and wire when I should have stayed focused on the project with a looming deadline. Besides, with spring in full force, there is a ton of work needed on the homestead, and I'm way behind on all of it.

(These are the goats, helping me remove Morning Glory.)

As for that mean turkey, he continues to be a nuisance. He especially dislikes adults, but seems to leave kids alone. I really need to clean the coop, but I really can't do much in there as long as I'm fending off a belligerent turkey. Worst of all, he has been terrorizing the other poultry. I had to break up a fight between him and the duck, and I often intervene on behalf of innocent chickens.

Mike has reseeded our lawn with a low-maintenance flower/herb mix, so we need to steer clear of it for at least 3 weeks, watering it 4-5 times/day. This is a huge challenge with three dogs and a (as of yesterday) seven-year-old. I have to leash each dog separately when they go out, which is frequently.

We have decided to bring on a second cat to manage the rodent population on the farm, as it has become a real problem since our female cat disappeared last fall. She was an outstanding mouser, preferring to hunt for her food over bagged kibble. We miss her, and we are hoping a new kitten will accept Lazarus as a friend. (Lazarus is our very sweet male cat, who begged Stella to be his friend for the past 6 years, only to be hissed at and snubbed.)

The bees are building comb and capping brood. We expect the arrival of new turkey chicks any day. The garden is blooming and some veggie sprouts are coming up. I just need to get to securing the dog yard, finishing the greenhouse, building a chicken run, tilling remaining raised beds, weeding about an acre of garden, trimming goat hooves, and stacking some huge piles of split firewood. And, of course, finishing that commission by the end of the month.

Birds and Bees

2010-04-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

Bee Mistress

Last weekend, we drove down to GloryBee Foods in Eugene, OR to pick up our box o' bees. When we arrived, a demonstration was just about to begin, and I am very glad we managed to participate. The thing is, we have been interested in keeping bees for years, but Mike has been more motivated. He took the Master Beekeeper classes, read the books, and watches the videos. I felt that I had enough responsibility, and couldn't take on one more thing. But then, we came across a 2nd-hand suit and hat in a size small. And Mike couldn't squeeze into it. Now I am the Bee Mistress, and I was very happy to see, in person, how to introduce the bees to their new home.

At home, I removed a little box containing the queen, but was alarmed to see that she was just rolling around in there. She appeared to be barely alive. We removed the cork from one end and Mike stuck a gummy bear in the hole, and I placed the queen box in the hive. Then I put the rest of the bees, in their opened box, into the empty top story of the hive and replaced the lid.

Then I went inside and called my friend Damian, who keeps bees. (Look up Taborhood Honey to see how he has been putting hives all around his Portland neighborhood, spreading the bee love.) He reassured me that the hive would be ok, but that I needed to replace the queen asap. Since it was Saturday evening, I had to wait until Monday morning to call GloryBee.

GloryBee was great about immediately sending a new queen, no questions asked. Damian explained that I needed to locate the original queen (if she survived) and assassinate her before introducing the new queen. So, on Wednesday morning, I put on my gear and opened the hive. I used my smoker, though it seemed only to irritate the bees. It is a very unique experience to deliberately disturb a swarm of 13,000 (or so) bees who are otherwise minding their own business. I removed one frame after another and searched for the tiny blue dot that would indicate the queen. The bees were not thrilled with this. I used a soft brush to push them around in more clustered areas. I turned over dead bees laying in the bottom of the box. But I never found the blue dot. I felt pretty sure she had died, or that they had eaten the gummy bear, stormed her box, and killed her for being a poor excuse for a queen.

When the new queen was delivered later that day, I just tacked her box between two frames and left it. I haven't checked back (though I've called and emailed Damian to make sure I'm doing everything right.)

I was impressed by the comb that is already growing on the frames. When I'm tending the hive, I move slowly, gently, and I feel supremely calm and focused. I expect to be stung, but it hasn't happened yet. Despite the original plan for me to serve only as moral support on this beekeeping enterprise, I am comfortable with my lead role. I feel a strong attachment for, and gratitude toward the hive, and I'm looking forward to a life with bees.

Mosaic Conference and Studio Update

2010-03-29T10:53:00.000-07:00

Last week, Anouk and I flew to Chicago to attend the 10th Annual Society of American Mosaic Artist Conference. My mom, who lives in Michigan, drove to meet us so that we could spend some time together between my conference activities. I skipped all of the workshops, partly out of financial necessity, and also to spend more time with my mom. We hadn't seen each other in about 3 years! We enjoyed walking in Millennium Park and a trip to the American Girl Store, which was the highlight for Anouk.

The highlight for me was the mini-salon and silent auction, where I presenteed the piece pictured above, titled "Melting." After seeing the other absolutely outstanding mosaic art included, I had lost some confidence. However, the piece was very well received and sold after 11 bids. I reached Nirvana when I saw the incoming SAMA president, the esteemed Shug Jones, writing a bid. I was floating!

I was inspired by presentations by amazing mosaic artists and the stunning accompanying mosaic exhibit at the Smith Museum of Stained Glass at the Navy Pier. I made a few new friends from Colorado, Montreal and Turkey. Over 400 artists attended this year's conference, from 14 different countries, and the sense of comeraderie was profound. SAMA artists are generous about sharing techniques and information, which results in very high standards of artistic integrity and quality. Every year, the artists push the envelope a bit further, and mosaic is becoming highly regarded throughout the art world. I feel so lucky to have discovered this medium just at the beginning of a mosaic renaissance, and to be acquainted with so many outstanding artists in the field.

This past year, I began to look carefully at my own work, and to take it more seriously. At the age of 40, I am questioning how I wish to pursue my work during the next decade. I have increasingly mixed feelings about creating functional and small mosaic pieces for recycled art festivals where I typically earn about $4-10/hour for my painstaking work. I collect salvaged materials, custom cut each piece and file the edges so that people can safely handle the items, and there are always a number of pieces that are not good enough, or that get damaged. Then I haul all of it, plus the displays, down to Oregon. I spend a day carrying heavy stuff, killing my back, setting up. And then, contrary to my natural introversion, I force myself to talk to strangers for a day or two, and to listen to them say to each other that they could make the same thing, or buy something similar for much less at Walmart. At my last sale, I wound up right next to a very nice woman who had hundreds of small, simple mosaics done on picture frames for as little as $13. I felt like the fair-trade import store when Cost Plus moves in next door.

At the same time, I love the recycled art movement, and these fairs offer us a chance to take a little family trip and for me to get out of my hermitage now and then. I would just like to see the standards raised for recycled art in the same way they have been for mosaic, for all artists to ask for and receive a liveable wage, and for more mutual support instead of competition. But then, I'm learning these lessons after 10 years working in mosaic, and 7 years as a full-time artist.

In the meantime, here's what is on my schedule at the moment: Next week, I'll be installing the final stage of the Olympia Pediatrics entryway. You will be able to find me on scaffolding over the doors on clear days, until it is finished. I will be teaching a glass-on-glass mosaic workshop on April 3rd at Hexen Glass in Olympia. On April 9th, I'll install a backsplash in Portland that features a forest meadow with sun rays shining through. Soon after that, I will begin work on a public art project for the Federal Way Senior Center/Food Bank, which is a 2.5' x 4' exterior panel featuring figures working together in a garden framed by flowers, veggies and mountains. Between these, I am facilitating a 3' x 5' mosaic with students from Choice High School that will be installed at a Mason County park, and I hope to complete a 100 s.f. mosaic at Anouk's school with the students. I am also making more individual pieces for galleries and the next Cracked Pots fair in July. I'm busy!

Spring has sprung!

2010-03-29T10:01:00.000-07:00

This is our new hive body, purchased from Steamboat Lil's, near Olympia, WA. Mike bought it from Lil directly, unassembled, and spent Sunday gluing and nailing it together. I will be painting the exterior this week. We originally planned to use a top-bar hive, which is much less expensive and easy to build, but a beekeeper explained to us in detail why this would be a huge mistake for first-time beekeepers. I am terrible at retaining information, but here is what I do remember: When you remove the honey from your top-bar hive, you have to remove all of the infrastructure that they built, and they need to start all over. Their energy goes into building a storage facility, rather than producing honey, which greatly limits honey supply and drains the bees. We have decided to put off using that method until we feel fairly competent keeping bees, and have more hives. For now, we will have only one, which is not ideal.

Turkey update: Tom became even more aggressive after my last post, attacking Mike viciously, clawing him through his jeans. I emailed a couple of heritage turkey breeders for advice, and I was told that we need to cull that tom right away. Right after that, our female turkey began to nest and lay eggs. Now, when I enter the coop, I carry a long pole that I keep pointed in his direction. I feel like I'm using a lance to defend myself against a very silly foe. We have ordered some baby turkeys, but we will also let our pair breed and see what happens. But Mr. Tom will likely end up in the freezer by summer.

Mike has all of the raised beds prepared for planting, and I put potatoes in the ground on March 16th. This week, Anouk has spring break so we'll be planting peas, carrots, turnips, beets and greens. Nicer weather means she is playing outside more, allowing Mike and I to work in the garden and studio much more than we can during winter. She builds fairy houses, collects worms, and we are turning her sandbox into a raised bed garden just for her.

Anouk and I were in Chicago last week, and while we were away, Mike took up all of the remaining lawn in our front and back yards. His plan is to till it all up, level it out, and re-seed it with a more maintenance-free grass/herb mix. We are hoping to switch to a manual lawn mower this year, which is timely, since our gas mower has died.

Thanks to Mike's dedicated, ongoing efforts on weekends all through winter, the garden is relatively weed-free and waiting for the busy work of planting to begin.

Romancing the Turkey

2010-03-12T09:23:00.000-08:00

In case you haven't been following my story, we began raising turkeys 3 years ago. The first year, we raised 3 domestic breed turkeys, which are bred to grow so large that they cannot procreate, fly, or even carry their own weight after reaching full size. Our expert farmer friends, Paul & Kirsten, came over and butchered them in our driveway in exchange for the largest. That turkey was so huge, they had to saw it in half to fit it in their oven.

Last year, we ordered heritage turkeys, which can fly, live full lives without their legs breaking under their own weight, and are capable of procreation. However, heritage birds are so rare now that the mating instinct is a bit fuzzy, from what I understand. Since almost all turkeys are bred through artificial insemination, there is little information about turkey mating, and even the turkeys could use some sex ed courses.

We butchered (that is, Paul and Kirsten did) five turkeys in November, leaving a tom and two hens in hopes of seeing them hatch a slough of babies this spring. Having read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (highly recommended!) I have been watching for any signs of sexual maturity similar to those she describes in her book. (We lost one hen to a raccoon attack.)

I've mentioned recently that Tom is acting like a Vegas showgirl, strutting around with his feathers all fluffy, rattling his wings to make a noise like a gentle motor. He chases me whenever I turn away from him, then shies away when I turn back toward him. I felt terrible when I learned that he scared the bejeesus out of our young housesitter last weekend. But, despite months of turkey machismo, I have not seen an egg or any attempts by Tom to get jiggy with his woman.

Until this morning! She has been approaching me for a couple of days as if she believes I am a potential suitor, sitting down next to me and bowing her head. I used to sit and pet my turkeys when they did this, but I have since learned that it is mating behavior. Still, today, I couldn't resist giving her a little pet on the back, which triggered an immediate reaction from Tom. I thought he was going to attack me! He ran over, making all kinds of noise, and proved that he could do for her what I never can. Afterward, he looked like he wasn't sure what had just happened, but she appeared refreshed and satisfied.

From what I have read, even if the turkeys are mating, egg fertilization is tricky. So, I'm not expecting this to result in hatching chickens right off the bat, but it is a very promising step in the right direction. We are about to order a shipment of turkeys again, but I hope that, in future years, we will feel confident in our turkeys' ability to hatch and raise their own young.

Early Spring on the farm and in the studio

2010-03-04T09:43:00.000-08:00

Practicing my booth set-up on our front porch helps me to assemble and arrange my space when I get to the actual sale, without finding that I am missing necessities.

This was supposed to be a crazy-busy week of preparations for the Cracked Pots Ungarden Recycled Art Fair coming up on Saturday, March 6th at The Grand Lodge in Forest Grove, OR. A few mosaics are yet unfinished in the studio, waiting for coats of paint on the frames or grout touch-ups. However, Anouk became sick with a flu this week and was home for three days, requiring my full attention. I had to focus on what I could accomplish in the house, including bookkeeping, cleaning, and sewing projects. Mike has been away at a conference, so I didn't even have nights to catch up. I had to let go of my expectations and just accept that I would be short a couple of the larger, more expensive items I hoped to sell.

Here it is Thursday and I leave tomorrow, so it is too late to finish in time to pack the work. It will have to wait for the next show, or I will submit it to a gallery, which means I pay the gallery 50% if it sells.

In the meantime, I have one commission waiting for installation, a small one nearly completed, a sheet of wedi on my easel with the design drawn on for a backsplash, and I'm expecting a deposit for a small public art project that will be complete at the end of April. I am a little bit overwhelmed.

The garden is waiting to be tilled and for planting to begin. I am hoping to get out there next week, finally. I have planted some greens and peas in my kitchen garden, since it is right outside the back door. Rhubarb, chives and leeks are coming back strong on their own, as are all of the berries throughout the garden.

Our chickens are laying again! In fact, we are getting 4-5 eggs each day from only 6 birds, which is a much better ratio than last year. We really missed the full nutrition of fresh eggs over the past 2 months. One of our first projects will be to divide half of the chicken yard and enclose it with chicken wire, including the top. The chickens will then have access to an outdoor area where they will be safe from raccoons during the winter and when we are not home. Most of the time, we will allow them to free range as usual.

We had a remarkably mild winter, very much in contrast with the rest of the country. We have been enjoying an early spring,which we expect to pay for this summer, as a drought is anticipated. There was not enough snowfall in the mountains to provide adequate water supply through summer, so we are preparing to conserve water in coming months. I wish we had rain barrels - something to put into future plans.

Our big, new thing this spring will be the addition of bees to the farm. We ordered one hive, which we will pick up in Eugene in April. In the meantime, we will need to invest about $200-300 in a hive structure and equipment. We've been told that it is important to have more than one hive, but one is as much as we can afford right now.

Mr. Tom (turkey) has been displaying nonstop macho behavior lately. He fluffs himself up and struts around his mate all day, shimmying to beat the band. He is intimidated by me, and sidles away when I approach him, but as soon as I turn my back, he runs at me, pretending to chase me off. Sometimes I humiliate him by picking him up and holding him, just for fun. I can't wait to see if they can successfully mate and hatch some turkey chicks. So far, no turkey eggs.

It is another gorgeous day out there and I have a lot of catching up to do on this one day I have to myself before a busy weekend. Off I go to try to sell my recyled art to the masses, wondering as always if this is the best use of my time and creativity. The fact is, though it would probably make more financial sense for me to be at work in the studio on commissions and higher-quality art panels, I enjoy the opportunity to leave home for the weekend and participate in something. We get to take a small trip as a family, stay in a hotel, swim in the pool, hear some live music, and see all of the fantastic work that the other resourceful artists bring to the show. Last year, I broke even after travel expenses. This year, I hope to get paid.

A thank you to my supportive family.

2010-02-12T10:33:00.000-08:00

In honor of Valentines Day, I feel inclined to write a few words in praise of my spouse and child. I find myself at age 40, living in a beautiful place with all of my essential needs met, working for myself doing what I love. If not for Mike and Anouk, my life would be very different. No doubt, I would be working either in social services or in some other administrative position, doing artwork as a hobby.

Mike and I became friends initially due to our shared interest in art. We used to schedule art nights every week, inviting our friends, but often finding that only the two of us made it. We would go to the Seattle Art Museum and galleries, stopping for drinks along the way, discussing our difficult relationships (with other people.) We both rented art studios in the same building and would go on supply runs together.

Now, Mike has little time for his artistic pursuits. His camera has not been touched in years and he no longer makes books. But he has thrown his creative energy full force into the garden and associated buildings, and he teaches glass art at his high school.

When I had Anouk, I lamented the loss of my personal time. For a couple of years, I had no free time, and I felt my identity as an artist had disappeared. Little by little, she became more independent, and I found time to make art whenever I could. I learned to do things I could manage with her next to me or on my back, and worked on mosaic when Mike was home. Mike has always supported my choice to stay home with her, and to start and pursue a business, even though he has to work 3 extra hours per day for us to break even.

The beginning of a new career.

A few years ago, I realized I really was a working artist, and it was actually because of Anouk. I had to become resourceful to find a way to earn money, create art, and be available as a mother. So, this Valentines Day, I will celebrate the two of them for forcing me to get my act together in more ways than I can describe.

The vulnerability of putting work in galleries

2010-02-12T10:02:00.000-08:00

This is an example of art that doesn't look nice in peoples' homes.

I have been selling my work for almost 20 years, beginning with naive oil pastel paintings, then ceramic figurines and wire jewelry, handmade cards, and eventually, the work I do now.

As an artist, you dream of galleries coming to you, begging to represent you and your brilliant work. But, for most of us, it is a very different experience. We venture out into the art world without maps, having no idea where to go or how to talk about our work. I still don't have a map, but I thought I would write about a few lessons I've learned.

The first time I approached a gallery (unannounced), I brought a few examples of my weird oil pastels of stylized naked women, sometimes depicting my young feminist idealogy. The owner bluntly informed me that my work was not a good fit for the gallery. She said, "Our clients like to buy things that will look nice in their homes." I quickly shuffled out with my invisible tail between my legs. However, I sucked up my pride, went to another shop (not gallery) and found the owner happy to accept my linocut-printed cards on consignment. The lesson: Don't expect to be accepted by the first gallery you approach. Prepare for rejection and know that your work may fit in certain venues, but not others.

A couple of years later, I had apprenticed with a ceramic artist, and had a box of ceramic figurines. I was still heavily influenced by the women's movement, but these were more celebratory. Having moved to Albuquerque, I took them to the local women's bookstore, where the owner took them all and gave me a sound lecture about pricing. She pointed out that, by pricing my work so low, I was not only paying myself poorly, but also underpricing other artists. We put fair prices on the work, and they all sold. The lesson: Compare your prices to others in your market. We all need a fair wage.

Around that same time, I was making wire and bead jewelry. I took my collection to a really cool gift shop in Madrid, NM (one of my favorite places.) The owner was very kind to discuss pricing with me, and she accepted my work on commission, and it sold well. I continued to supply her with jewelry until I moved back to WA 8 months later. After a while, I couldn't reach the shop or owner. A friend went to the shop for me to find that it had closed. I was never paid for the items I left there. The lesson: Be cautious about leaving your work where you can't monitor the sales. Make sure you have a written contract with items and prices listed for your records.

For many years after that, I only sold at a cooperative gallery in Seattle and at independent shows that I arranged at cafes. If you are just starting out, this is a very good option for getting your work seen. Look for cafes and restaurants that have rotating art shows and ask for an appointment with the curator. Take photos of your work and remember that your art is going to represent the business while it is hanging. Choose businesses that are more likely to accept your work. Don't take edgy art to a conservative tea shop, for instance. The disadvantage is that you are responsible for all promotion and sales. But most cafes don't take a commission, so it gives the artist a great way to sell art at low risk. Some will even allow you to hold an opening party, which is a great opportunity to network.

After working in mosaic for a few years, I heard about a gallery in Seaside that specializes in mosaic. My husband was leading a field trip there, so he took one of my mosaics to the gallery. This was my first time putting work in a real gallery, and the owner was kind enough to alter my mosaic to make it gallery-ready. She removed the eye-hooks I had screwed into the top and replaced them with d-rings on the back. Then she painted over the mess of grout I had left on the back. The piece sold fairly quickly, and I received a check in the mail. The lesson: Always use d-rings and woven wire for 2-D artwork. Make sure it looks neat and tidy on all sides (even the back.)
Additionally:
-Be prepared to set your pricing. It helps to go in with a price in mind, and negotiate from there. Most galleries take 50%, so know how little you are willing to accept. If you know you can sell something for more than you will get from the gallery, it may not be worth it. On the other hand, selling at a gallery looks good on a resume, you reach a new audience, the gallery promotes you and takes care of taxes, and your work will look much nicer than it will on the wall of a cafe.
-Be professional. (Do as I say; not as I do.) I tend to talk too much out of nervousness, openly express my insecurities, and sometimes realize my work isn't ready to hang. Just recently, on one of those days where I was one step behind all day, I took work to a gallery without any d-rings attached. I had my screw-gun with me and ran (literally) to a hardware store, the second one I had gone to that didn't carry d-rings. I bought some drawer-pulls that resembled d-rings and tried to attach them back at the gallery. They broke. I did all of this with the gallery owner tending her customers around me. I am still working through my shame.

I hope some budding artist stumbles across this and learns from my mistakes. Good luck!

Weak point.

2010-02-10T08:42:00.000-08:00

We made it through most of winter using homegrown, frozen food as the basis of our meals, along with purchased staples like oil, grains, milk, salt, etc. It hasn't been awful, though I can tell Mike is not always thrilled with dinner.

Despite the many signs of spring (sprouts, buds, frogs, longer days) we all seem to be exhausted lately, and craving comfort foods. I've been increasingly uninspired by the available ingredients. Anouk refuses to eat most of what I make, so I've resorted to buying whatever it takes to feed her. (She subsists on blueberry bagels, tofu, cereal and milk, pasta, and "fresh" fruit & veggies.) I baked and prepped a pumpkin last week, only to let it sit in the fridge. Today I'll throw it to the animals before it goes completely bad. And there is one pumpkin left in the pantry (not to mention many containers of pumpkin in the freezer that I've been ignoring.)

Last weekend, Mike went to town to get a few staples, but came home with loads of groceries from Costco, including frozen sweet potato fries, chicken nuggets, sun chips, ground turkey, fruit, apple juice, and lots of albacore tuna. I have to admit, it has been a relief to have something different and easy to make, as much as I cringe thinking about the many issues surrounding each of these items. I think we needed a little diversion.

Yesterday, I reorganized the garage freezer, and was delighted to find a bag of cauliflower and one of swiss chard. Our only vegetables since December have been string beans and zucchini, so it was like finding treasure. Hopefully, we will get back on the slow food track when we deplete this stash of groceries, but right now, I am longing for a thriving garden offering us one juicy crop after another.

Representin'

2010-02-04T09:43:00.001-08:00

For a few years, I've been asked to participate in Arts Day at the WA State Capitol. On Feb. 2nd each year, arts advocates gather at the capitol to meet with legislators and make a case for including the arts in the State budget. In the past, I felt too shy and busy to join in, so I politely declined. This year, I recognized that I have been trying to get in on some of that funding, and that it is valuable for our community, and that the arts are seriously in jeopardy during these difficult financial times. So, I agreed to go.

Getting there was not easy. I had to get up extra early to be ready, take care of the homestead, and get Anouk to school, and I knew it wasn't possible to make it there for the 8:30am orientation. I made it to Olympia at about 8:40, but there was not a parking spot to be found. When I did find one, there was a meter that required change. I dropped in all of my change, and stole all of Anouk's change, and I was still a nickel short. While I desperately searched for one, the machine ate my money.

I had to pee so bad I was nearly in tears. But I continued to drive in search of a spot. I found one with a meter that accepted credit cards, only to realize that I had left my wallet on the counter at home! So, I would not be able to run errands or get food after the meeting, and I was already hungry. And my bladder was about to burst.

I kept driving around, until I found 2-hour parking quite a long walk from the Capitol. And I made it to the orientation before it was over, and there were donuts to appease my hunger.

There were 4 of us presenting to Kathy Haige,a legislator for my district. Stephanie Johnson, Arts organizer for the City of Olympia, introduced us, making the whole process feel easy and comfortable. She began by acknowledging how crappy a position the legislators are in right now, having to cut EVERYTHING, and that it is difficult to make a case for arts funding right now.

I spoke about how thriving arts contribute to a healthy local economy, using the example of cities like Port Townsend. People will drive there from far away because it is a fun, interesting place to visit. Those people stay in hotels, eat out, and buy stuff. If planning for Grays Harbor County incorporated more focus on the arts, I think we could harness the tourist factor to bring more money to the cities along the route to Ocean Shores, and a big part of that is art. I also talked about art in schools, using examples from Mike's glass arts program to make my point.

Sara Utter, a printmaker from Shelton, also talked about how artists are valid members of the work force, adding funds to the local economy through studio rental and sales of their work.

Luckily for us, Kathy Haige turns out to be a strong advocate for the arts, with ideas of her own for integrating art into school curriculum. So, we left with a spring in our step, stopping to admire a painting that Ms. Haige did in the stairwell of her building, turning a gash in the plaster into a mountain range.

I drove home regretting that I had not agreed to participate in this effort before, and feeling committed to being a more active citizen from now on. Getting there may have been hard, but sharing my experience with a legislator was easy. I thought about how much opportunity we all have to influence government by calling and writing to our officials, but most of us (me included) spend our energy complaining to our friends instead. I am grateful to the Arts Commission and to Stephanie for organizing this event and holding our hands through the process. I feel more proactive and more aware of how government works, on a practical level. And I encourage everyone to find ways to engage with government, rather than simply railing against it.

More raccoon devastation.

2010-02-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

This is just a brief update on the homestead:

The loss of our roosters has resulted in the end of egg production here on the farm. We were down to only one egg per day from our six remaining chickens, but we haven't had an egg now in a little over two weeks. It is possible that this is part of the natural cycle, and that longer days will soon bring a return of eggs. However, roosters encourage the eggs, so we are working with our friend Paul (from Barnyard Gardens, of course) to locate a new king for the flock.

We have had a Muscovy duck-hen for a few years. Muscovies are unusual looking ducks that can fly, and are not related to other species of domestic ducks. We did have a flock at one time, but all were killed years ago during a cold spell (the coons are especially resourceful when temps drop), except for Mrs. Duck. Last Feb., she became very broody, laying eggs in the coop, refusing to leave them for many days, and defending them aggressively from me. Of course, I had to remove them because I knew they were not fertile, and didn't want a nest of rotting eggs in the coop. So, when friends let us know they had extra Muscovy drakes available, we took one. He was introduced to Mrs. Duck on Valentines Day last year, and they bonded quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Duck have been inseparable for nearly a year.

Poor Mr. Duck has one bad wing, so he cannot fly. Most of the time, Mrs. Duck would sleep with him in the coop, but sometimes, she flew away when I closed the coop, refusing to be confined. She would perch on the barn roof overnight, and I hoped she knew how to evade the blood-thirsty raccoons. I would find her every morning, at the coop door, eagerly waiting for me to let Mr. Duck out.

Sadly, last week, I found her body, ripped apart in the chicken yard. You would think I would be accustomed to this, and I am probably much less sensitive than when we started, but it is very depressing. The worst is seeing poor, gimpy Mr. Duck waddling around all by himself. He looks lost and lonely.

Muscovies have a reputation for being delicious. Apparently, the meat is not greasy and gamey like other ducks. So, Mike has plans to execute Mr. Duck sometime soon. I have a very hard time with the idea of eating him, but I am torn. I do not want to get a new duck hen. We have tried to keep ducks too many times, without success. And keeping unproductive animals on our farm is making less and less sense. (I am even thinking about the wisdom of keeping our goats.) I may adjust to the idea. Mr. Duck has always viewed me as the enemy. He hisses at me and tries to peck my head when I enter the coop. And a part of me is curious about that tasty Muscovy meat, I must admit. We'll see.

New Project

2010-01-28T16:41:00.000-08:00

Last week, I received a call to let me know that I had been chosen as one of two artists creating projects for a Senior Center/Food Bank. I've been applying for public art projects for a couple of years now, and have become accustomed to rejection. This opportunity is very exciting for me. Although the project is small, it feels like a step in the right direction, and it promises to be especially fun.

Today, I drove north to meet with part of the committee to discuss timeline, contract, size, function and placement. The Senior Center has been busy each time I've visited, filled with people who seem very happy to congregate, play games, and have coffee together. Most impressive is their one-year-old community garden, which is outstanding. There is an arched entry, walkways, raised beds, compost bins, and today there was a group of people building a shed. It has all been built entirely by volunteers, and they tell me that they are able to distribute free organic produce to many needy people during the summer. They are now in progress on a food bank, and have received small grants to add some artwork to the space.

So far, working with this group has been great. The seniors using the center are so friendly, sweet, and excited about the artwork! I am hoping to incorporate a mosaic workshop so that they feel more personally engaged with the panel that will be mounted in front of the center this spring. I don't begin work on this until March, but I am really looking forward to it.

PS: The image is from a previous intallation. I just wanted to add visual interest.

Right-brained ramblings about our economy

2010-01-27T11:19:00.000-08:00

One day, Anouk asked me why everything can't just be free? I said that people can't give their labor away because they need the money to live. She wisely pointed out that, if everything was free, people wouldn't need money at all. "What if some people took more than their share?" I asked. I tried to explain that we need currency to establish value for our time and our products to make sure our trades are fair. In six-year-old terms, of course.

But I was left wondering...
Because people DO take more than their share. CEOs of large companies often earn 300 times more than low-wage earners at said companies. Banks charge us 23% to loan money, but only pay us 2% to borrow it. So many people live in poverty while a few are unfathomably rich.

Every day, I hear reports on the recession. Today the Dow is up, tomorrow it is down. Sales are up. Employment is down. Occasionally, I hear a report that manufacturing is on the rise. I know this is supposed to make us happy, but I can't help imagining trees being felled for wood and paper, rocky slopes being mined for metals, more oil being used to make plastics, more PVC, more dioxins, and more for everyone to unwrap, use, and throw away.

We were not always a production-based economy. There has to be a way to flourish economically without always producing and growing. Granted, our populations continue to increase while resources decrease, so providing clothing and necessities for everyone seems to require manufacturing. But that simply isn't sustainable.
I keep hearing people complain that they don't care about healthcare and climate change right now. It's all about jobs. And I understand that when people are desperate they get tunnel vision. But without resources, the economy fails. I believe we are seeing this in action right now, and everyone is in denial. It just doesn't seem possible that we can have an economic recovery unless we shift our dependence away from manufacturing.

But what does that look like? I have grown up in a world that relies on houses being built, malls filled with shoppers, sweat shops, Walmarts, and growing cities to stimulate the economy. What if no one was trying to be a millionaire (or billionaire, as is so often the case now)? Maybe we could find a way to earn our money without building more and more cars, roads and skyscrapers. And there has to be a way to reduce environmental impact. We always need services: medical professionals, electricians, plumbers, mechanics, farmers, remodelers, artists, etc. It’s not that I wish job loss on all of the contractors and retailers out there. I don't know what the answer is, and I'm pretty sure our president doesn't know either.

That’s probably enough rambling about a subject about which I know very little. I am desperate to see other people begin to recognize that healthcare, environment, agriculture, trade policies, war; it’s all inherently tied to the health of our economy. The only way out is to make huge changes in our social structures, and I’m afraid the general population will not accept this until it is too late. Maybe Anouk and her generation will figure out how to return to a barter system.

Signs of Spring

2010-01-19T10:28:00.000-08:00

I love living in the Pacific NW. I feel so grateful right now that I am not even torn up that we have had to put off indefinitely our trip to Barcelona and Marrakech. Holiday sales just weren’t very robust this year, our property taxes more than doubled, and there have been some extra dental and veterinary costs.

Last week’s devastating earthquake in Haiti really hit me emotionally. I listened to the heartbreaking news while working in the studio, until all joy had left me. My work seemed pointless. I felt that everything we did was overly-indulgent, like, how can I possibly eat this fine Indian meal while people are suffering horribly? It definitely puts my life into perspective when I am confronted with tragedy. But then I turned on my ipod and stopped listening to NPR when I realized that I was of little use to my family in my depressed state. I was dwelling, and it wasn’t helping anyone, least of all the Haitian earthquake victims. I sent what we could spare to PIH, a reputable organization already on the ground in Haiti, and began to pull myself out of that hole. Now, I listen in spurts, and try to focus on the signs of recovery and resilience, and to appreciate my life.

Back to that: Since the cold snap in early December, we have had (knock on wood) a remarkably mild winter, reminiscent of those I remember from the 1990s. There has been a lot of rain, granted, but no flooding and temps are very comfortable. Today it is going to be 57 degrees, which is warmer than usual. And here is the thing I love so very much about living here: Plants are sprouting! Buds are budding! Every January, there are small signs of spring that coax us through the rest of winter. We can feel it coming, so we are already planning, weeding, choosing which seeds to order, talking about how to be more resourceful and efficient this time.
We are going to order bees and use a hive system developed in Africa. We are buying potato starts. I’m going to sprout some kale indoors this week. Our food stash is getting depleted, but the cycle is about to begin again.

Here is what is coming up in the garden: garlic, leeks, chives, and rhubarb.
Here is what I made for dinner on Sunday: Creamy pasta primavera with roast chicken. I used our own frozen beans, peas, broccoli, and zucchini, roasted a chicken purchased in the Fall from Barnyard Gardens (from our freezer). I used our garlic and herbs. From the store: flour, organic milk, olive oil and pasta. It was quite good, if I do say so.

Along with spring comes more work. I will need to devote many hours to weeding and planting in the coming months. We still have to finish the greenhouse, build those hives, and we have plans to construct enclosed ranging areas for the poultry. My work usually picks up this time of year also. I have a sale in early March and three commissions to complete by about that time. I continue to shun grout, and I just finished an un-grouted representational piece. It is more painstaking, because the pieces need to fit very precisely. But, when it is done, that’s it. All done! And, there is one more cement-product I don’t need to use, adding to the sustainability factor. This only works under certain circumstances, but I will be going this route far more often.

One more thing: I’m teaching a mosaic workshop at Hexen Glass Studio in Olympia, WA on January 30th 1-4pm, $70. To register call 360-705-8758 or email staff@hexenglass.com.

General update on homestead and business

2010-01-06T09:01:00.000-08:00

I've written a few entries about our efforts to grow our own food and to engage in the Slow Food movement. (Confession: Until this year, I thought Slow Food meant taking your time eating.) It was more challenging with Mike's mom visiting over the holidays. This is the woman who has refused to drink our organic milk in the past because she thinks extra chemicals and hormones MUST be added for health purposes. We generally take her to the grocery store on the way home from the airport to make sure she has food that she likes. So, for the first time in months, we ate salad with our meals.

It's one thing to live with unusual food choices as a family, but it is another when we have visitors who aren't used to eating pumpkin three times a day. And I felt fine about adding some out-of-season ingredients during the holidays.

Besides, it is getting harder lately to put tasty meals together with the food we have available. On Christmas Eve, which is also my dad's birthday, I made a special dinner of Buffalo roast (grown about a mile and a half away), salad, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie (our pumpkin).

Unfortunately, I used many of our frozen veggies to make a big soup, but it turned out awful. Even I couldn't eat it. What a waste of hard-earned food! Overall, we are getting about one egg per day, we still have a lot of chicken and some vegetables in our garage freezer, and there are a few loaves of zucchini bread left. I just harvested the last of our carrots yesterday. Every morning, I make Mike a smoothie from our carrots, chard and blueberries. I add strawberries, bananas, protein powder and juice from the store. As winter progresses, we are buying more and more food ingredients, but trying to pay attention to where they come from and choosing organic.

An abandoned bunny joined our family two days ago. His name is Uncle Wiggily, and he was left behind when a family moved from their home. Anouk has been begging for a bunny for years, so she's thrilled. We are still figuring out where he will live, but so far, he's settling in fine.

As for my business, I took a break from mosaic during the past couple of weeks, mainly because my studio was in a state of complete chaos, and I didn't have time to clean it. In the evenings, I worked in the house on fabric experiments and some projects for us that I had been putting off. Now I'm preparing to start 3 new commissions and creating new art panels for galleries and a recycled art festival in March.

I've had many ideas over the past few months that I haven't had time to realize, so I expected to get out there and whip out some of those. However, I find myself making something totally new and different. Suddenly, I'm working small and abstract, piecing together little bits of glass into inset rectangles on drawer faces. I have this nagging feeling that I'm wasting time, while I'm doing it, like I should be working off of the sketches in my notebooks, concocting masterpieces. Last night, I realized that I have something to learn from these little, simple mosaics, and I need to follow that urge. It could be as simple as a need to play, and to let go of the pressure to make something grand and impressive. Besides, these small pieces will provide some items that I can sell in a lower price range.

It's a new year and everyone seems to be looking toward spring. Bulbs are already coming up in the garden, and by the end of the month some of the trees will have small buds on them. I have a sense of a new beginning for me as well, with ideas brewing, new projects, and many goals to work on.

Lucky finds:

2010-01-04T09:25:00.001-08:00

I seem to have a knack for salvaging. I'm one of those people who almost always finds something great at the thrift store for a deal, and I manage to get most of my studio items for free.

At the top: This ring saw was broken and discarded. A handy aquaintance fixed it, and it has been working fine for years.
That antiquated overhead projector was tossed out. It has some issues, but is very helpful for me when I need to enlarge a design.
Next is a chalkboard that a friend got rid of when he moved. It helps me keep track of upcoming shows and commissions. Notice the carved wood panel above it; that is from our Thai canopy bed. We hit our head on it one too many times.
The bottom pic shows how I cleverly shove piles of collected bubble wrap and other packing material under my countertops. Ok, it isn't pretty, but it sure is useful when I need to pack and ship my work. Most of the bubble wrap pictured came from the delivery of a metal sculpture to a new building. I happened to be grouting a mosaic there when it was unpacked. I also brought home a truckload of cardboard that day, which will go under our landscaping.

Not pictured is the light table that was discarded because it wasn't working and the base is unstable. It has been fixed by a handy friend, and I keep it wedged between two solid work counters. (Great for glass-on-glass mosaic.) Said counters are constructed of salvaged materials, including a door used as a table top.

I will admit here that my salvaging nature did not begin as an effort to conserve. While I've always been inherently concerned with the environment, I have also lived on a limited income for most of my life. I have been able to build my studio and business with very little overhead. If you can afford it, you can put together a much more attractive, organized studio by just purchasing the systems you need new. A lot of time and energy goes into finding, fixing, and re-constructing all of these materials, but the money and resources saved makes it worth every ounce for me.

Mosaic bases:

2010-01-04T09:20:00.001-08:00

That top photo features several old windows that were put out in a free pile. they are in great shape, and with a bit of cleaning and stripping, they will be great for glass-on-glass mosaic.

Below that is one more of my many stashes of scrap wedi, cupboard doors, and hardibacker.

And the bottom photo shows the bases that are on my work counter right now, in the process of being stripped and prepped for mosaic.

Tile scraps:

2010-01-04T09:14:00.000-08:00

The top photo is just part of a collection of ceramic castaways that my artist-friend Loralin Toney just gave me. A treasure! For years, she has made and sold beautiful flower lamps that she made of clay (I have several in my house), but her creative passion has found a new direction. I have some ideas for these....

Below that is just one of many piles of discarded tile, waiting for the right project.

Continued...

2010-01-04T09:03:00.001-08:00

Ok, I'm having some trouble downloading and organizing my photos here, but the metal shelf holds the scrap that I use most often. (I salvaged that shelf, which is on wheels - most convenient.)

The very small bits go into random containers and onto that bamboo shelf, which used to be a display unit for bamboo flooring. These tiny pieces are used in my workshops, as I find that most of my students like to use these to fill their designs. On the floor in front of that shelf is a box of cupboard door demos waiting to be dismantled for mosaic, and some wedi scraps that my tile-setting friend, Frank, gave to me.

A tour of my salvaged studio:

2010-01-04T08:50:00.000-08:00

I spent most of New Years Day cleaning my studio, which had descended into such chaos in November and December that I could barely fit in the door, let alone work there. While tidying the place up and getting ready for new projects, I took photos for a blog entry about being resourceful in the studio.

These are old milk crates, in which I stack the larger pieces of glass that I collect, separated by cardboard. When I work and when I collect glass scrap from stained glass studios, I separate the small pieces into these shoe-tubs that a friend didn't want anymore:

Ok, it appears that I can't add a photo here, so I'll post it in a new entry.

Happy New Year, Poultry!

2010-01-01T18:55:00.000-08:00

I spent this New Years morning cleaning the chicken coop. That means I strap on my dust mask, take a flat-bottom shovel and wheelbarrow, and remove all of the old bedding, feces, and in this case, chicken body parts from the inside of the coop.

Why chicken body parts? That sounds so morbid! Well, it was Mike's birthday on the 29th, so we went into town and enjoyed some drinks and dinner with friends. We didn't get home until a whopping 9pm; hours past our curfew. In our absence, raccoons had savagely killed both of our roosters, spreading feathers and innards all over the coop, inside and out. (In the dark, we thought more were missing, including our female turkey. Thankfully, all of our hens, ducks and both turkeys were there in the morning.) We are still brainstorming how to deal with the ever-increasing coon attacks.

When we were building the house, the I asked the flooring guys to give me any linoleum scraps they might have floating around. I was given a couple of rolls, and the countertop guy also brought me some. They were all happy to give them to someone instead of paying to take them to the landfill. I used some for countertops in my studio, then used the rest for the floor and nesting boxes in the new coop. I am so glad that I did that because it makes it much easier to remove the soiled bedding. I fill load after load into the wheelbarrow and take it to garden beds to spread as mulch.

When I worked in an office, they bagged up the shredding to be thrown away. I used to take the bags home and use them for nesting boxes. This worked great and saved money. I use cedar shavings from a local mill for the floor. Cedar has natural antibiotic properties and stays clean longer than anything else I've tried. My friend Paul at Barnyard Gardens showed me how to build a ledge in the opening of my coop and fill it at least 6 inches with shavings. I toss scratch grains onto the floor each day, so the chickens turn the bedding, and I can go about 3 months before changing it out again.

New Year, clean coop. I also cleaned my studio, so I can finally get back in there and get some work done. But that's a story for another day.

Learning from mistakes...

2009-12-17T10:29:00.000-08:00

One thing I'm realizing about myself is that I can sometimes be oblivious to things that must be obvious to the people around me. It's not that I'm an idiot, really. I just get enthusiastic about something and lose myself in the process, not considering pragmatic details.

I learn best by charging forward, then looking back at my screw-ups. Well, I have always believed that I learn best that way. Should I reconsider? In the early 1990s, I did a group apprenticeship with a potter/sculptor, Pam Sinclair. Each week, she set up a project for our small group to work on. I inevitably did something different, moving into unknown territories. Then the next week, I'd try what the others did the previous week. My projects were less consistent than everyone else at first, and Pam was often frustrated with my out-of-context questions, but by the end of a year I was selling my work in a New Mexico gallery.

With mosaic, as with most of the art forms I've tried, I'm basically self-taught. There has been a lot of trial and error. Over the years, I became more dedicated to mosaic, buying books, joining online forums, taking a few workshops, and now attending an annual conference. Because I'm being paid for my work, I need to meet a high standard for quality and integrity. But every job is different, with new challenges, usually unexpected.

As I mentioned in previous posts, the recent cold spell caused delays with my current project. I was unable to grout in freezing weather, and when it warmed up a bit, it was still cold enough to slow the curing process. I have a certain window of time to work, while Anouk is in school, and lately there have been obligations in the afternoons and on weekends, making it difficult to follow the grouting through the way I should. I've managed to find people to pick her up for me on a couple of these occasions, but the time it bought me wasn't enough.

It was only yesterday, while standing on a tall ladder in the cold and rain with tarps bungied overhead, whipping around me in the wind, I realized that I should have postponed the exterior portion of the installation until spring. Granted, the contract was signed in early September and I thought it would be done by October, but when it became clear that it would be pushed into December, I should have put a hold on it. I was too eager, both to see it through to completion and to get paid.

Yesterday, one of the doctors said the clinic is interested in having me put lettering up on the building to match the vines. I was still on the ladder in the wind and rain at the time. I said that would be great, but I warned him that my pricing will be higher. I explained that I was following though on pricing revisions on the advice of a coach, and had been tracking actual expenses on this job, and would be making appropriate adjustments in future. I added that I would need to wait for better weather, also. He seemed just fine with that.

So, while I may stumble over myself more than most people in order to move forward, each of these little falls teaches me something to do or avoid next time. I am constantly growing as an artist and business owner, and slowly gaining confidence with my work. I can't say enough about the NW mosaic yahoo group I joined a few years ago, as the members are all extremely generous about sharing information, advice and feedback. Whenever I'm stuck, they give me a push (or a pull, or a kick when I deserve it.)

From now on, no exterior architectural mosaic during winter. And I'm cutting back on this whole holiday bazaar frenzy that took so much of my energy this year. It's time to focus my time and work harder and better on mosaic. One step back; a big leap forward. On one hand, I look forward to becoming an expert mosaic artist who has already been through it all and knows exactly what to do. On the other, these challenges keep the work interesting. Besides, I realize there will always be challenges because I will never stop trying new techniques and approaches. That's the nature of the job.

Frozen!

2009-12-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

I moved away from Michigan in 1988 for a reason. Well, for several reasons, but one was the frigid cold that dominated at least half the year. When I moved to the Pacific NW, it was like Fall all Winter to me. I didn't mind the Moist Season because it usually hovered around 50 degrees, so I could throw on some gortex and still bike and hike and enjoy the outdoors in relative comfort. Every 3-5 years it seemed we would get some extreme weather in December or January, and most years we would get a day or two of snowfall.

Over the past 5 years, the weather has changed dramatically around here. We've seen more winter storms, and the past two years were marked by incredible floods, high winds, and landslides. We came close to some flooding this year in November, but the rain eased just before the Chehalis River crested. I am definitely grateful for that, but over the past couple of weeks, we have had some of the coldest temperatures I can remember in WA.

I have to admit, the blue skies and sunshine on the glittery, ice-covered landscape is stunning. Along the steep roadsides, incredible ice formations decorate the rock walls. When I pass by a small local lake in the mornings, just as the sun is hitting the water, thick steam swirls up in spooky wisps, looking like a huge crowd of ghosts dancing on the surface.

But this cold is causing me a whole heap of frustration and delay. I've been rushing to meet the deadline for installing this mosaic because the clinic is scheduled to open on the 18th. Last week, I spent two days putting up an exterior mosaic in 35 degree temps. My fingers were swollen with cold and my toes were numb. Luckily, the thinset seems to have cured without problems, which was a concern. I expected it to warm up this week for grouting, but it has only gotten colder, so I haven't been able to finish the work. If the grout freezes, it will compromise the curing process.

Meanwhile, I have 3 glass-on-glass mosaic panels in my studio that were supposed to be installed in the entryway of the clinic by now. On Friday, I started grouting early because I needed to leave for the night in the late afternoon. The cold caused the epoxy grout to cure very slowly, and I was not sure it was ready for me to leave it when I finally had to go. Sure enough, there is a light haze on the glass, so I have been painstakingly buffing each piece with superfine steel wool for the past couple of days, and I'm still not finished buffing the first panel. The third panel is still waiting for grout. I'm worried also that a couple hundred dollars worth of adhesives have frozen in my studio, deeming them unsuitable for use.

Our pipes froze on Monday and we have been having a water shortage ever since, despite wrapping our pipes excessively with heat-tape and insulation. It has become clear that we somehow lost pressure in our water tank, which is something I'll be working on today. No water is always difficult, but is extra problematic when I am responsible for the care and feeding of so many animals. They are all very thirsty. I keep a container filling under my one trickling faucet, and use this source for all of our cleaning and as drinking water for the animals. Water for drinking and cooking comes from the store for now.

It doesn't help that I was really sick with a stomach bug at the beginning of the week, and could barely get myself upright. I'm just now feeling almost normal.

When it gets below freezing, it seems the raccoons become really desperate for food. Last year, we had a cold spell and lost 8 chickens and 9 ducks in two weeks to raccoons. They were ambushing during the day, when the birds are free-ranging. We have interrupted a raccoon attack on our turkeys each of the past two nights. The first night, one managed to bust through the chicken wire near the top of the coop. Last night, it reached through the wire, got hold of a turkey, and chewed on its shoulder before we got there. The turkey had managed to escape from the raccoon's grasp, and had somehow climbed the wall and wedged itself in a corner of the ceiling, using its wings to brace itself there with its feet holding onto the chicken wire. She is wounded, but recovering.

Beyond these major inconveniences, there are the small annoyances. The coop doors are frozen shut, the car won't warm up in the morning, Mike had to drive to work two mornings with no heat at all (45 miles!), the eggs are frozen when I get to them, and I'm having a hard time keeping the house above 60 degrees.

All of this typing served mainly to postpone going back outside to solve these issues. I have to repressurize the water tank (wish me luck!) and try to make the turkey coop more secure. All I can say is that, despite the sunshine and absolutely stunning surroundings, I am longing for the good old days of incessant drizzle that used to be the bane of December and January.

But, I realize that we can count on our weather just getting stranger and more unpredictable in future years. I guess I just need to suck it up and be more prepared. And I'll try to enjoy the sun while it shines on the glistening ice-covered hills.

When you love your job, is it still work?

2009-12-03T16:23:00.000-08:00

Working as an artist can feel socially weird, sort of in the same way as being a stay-at-home parent. That said, it was with great enthusiasm that I finally switched from saying "I'm a stay at home mom," to saying, "I'm an Artist," when asked. Still, that statement is usually met with a skeptical expression. People usually ask, "What do you paint?" I give a quick explanation of my work, then change the subject.

I'd say about one out of every 10 strangers I talk to responds with a slightly bitter, "How nice for you." And, it is very nice that I have been able to generate work for myself doing something creative and fulfilling. It is very nice that I am in a relationship with someone who can support us while I take this chance, and who believes that it is the best option for all of us. Several times a year, I ask, "Should I get a real job?" We have looked at the pros and cons, and the fact is, all of our lives would be negatively affected if I went to work for an employer. We might be able to buy new sheets or winter coats when we need them, sure, and it wouldn't be such a crazy idea for us to take a 10-day trip to Spain this winter. But, I would have to switch Anouk to the larger school so that she could catch the bus each morning, and she would have to go to daycare every afternoon, and much of my income would be paying for that. We would have to greatly reduce the amount of food we grow, sell the goats, and rely more on electric heat because I couldn't keep up with our wood supply. When Anouk is sick, I can keep her home without risk to my job security, and I spend a portion of each day just taking care of our home. So, as long as we can get by on Mike's income and what little I make, it just works out best for all of us.

I do sometimes feel like I am not considered to be "working". I'm not sure how much of this is my own complex, and how much comes from other people's attitudes. It is often seen as me having a fun hobby that earns me a little side money. Yes, I do enjoy my work most of the time, but man, it can be grueling! I stand on cement all day in a cold, studio. My hands get sore and stiff from repetitive motion and gripping. I often have to wear a wrist brace because my tendons become strained. My fingers are always covered in small cuts and stained from adhesives. During a large installation, I often work long hours in uncomfortable circumstances. For the past two days, for instance, I've been working in near-freezing temperatures with numb fingers and toes.

But that Pediatric Clinic has been transformed by a simple glass mosaic vine climbing the pillars that frame the entryway. I step back at the end of it all to get the full effect, and it is just lovely. Without my work, it would be a plain, stuccoed building like every other medical building on that street. Now, it stands apart and welcomes patients with a promise of a fun, cheerful interior. I love that feeling. I love when the doctors pop down to see my progress and they are SO happy!

My work makes people happy and I do love doing it. But it feels like work.

At a "Business of Art" workshop (by Pam Corwin - look into it if you are doing this kind of work) I asked the panel of wholesale artists if it is difficult to make the same item over and over, sometimes hundreds of times, and does it then feel less like fun and more like work? They all said, in different ways, that they can either use their innate talents to fill wholesale orders, sometimes working late into the night to meet a deadline - or they can go get a job, maybe in an office or waiting tables, on someone else's schedule and according to someone else's rules. It can be even harder work to labor tirelessly on art that you feel passionately about, that is part of you, and that is your only source of income, than to clock in at a job that you don't care so much about and that you can walk away from at the end of a day. Ultimately, it just depends on how you want to spend your time and how much risk you are willing and able to take.

Now, off to my other job; being a mom.

More thoughts on meat...

2009-11-28T09:12:00.001-08:00

While dismantling a chicking this morning, I was thinking about our transition to eating meat. Mike was a strict vegetarian until about 3 years ago. He was the kind of snobby vegetarian who would throw a fit in an Asian restaurant if he found out that the delicious soup he had just eaten was made with chicken broth, and who only ate gelatin-free yogurt and rennet-free cheese. I was a "flexitarian" who would occasionally eat meat in a situation where all other choices were unappetizing, especially in other cultural contexts. Our first trip to Europe was miserable for Mike. There was virtually nothing he could eat. To them, "vegetarian" meant that meat was not the main focus of the meal, or that it contained vegetables.

I began adding small amounts of meat to my diet more deliberately after finally seeing a naturopath about my tendency to black out on an almost daily basis. I had come to accept this condition as part of life, thinking it was probably a residual side-effect of semi-starving myself for 8 years as a young woman. My naturopath discovered that I was low on a kind of iron that we build in our childhood, and it comes only from meat (I hated meat as a kid). When I began to include trace amounts of meat into my diet (at first, I just drank a small cup of broth each day) the black-outs disappeared. I no longer experience the dips in my energy that I did before.

We had both chosen our levels of vegetarianism based on environmental, animal rights, and health issues. Raising our own livestock solved all of these questions, except when it comes to actually killing your meat. This part is still hard to accept, but it has become a very small part of our lives. When you raise animals at all, death becomes a part of your reality. We do our best to protect our chickens, ducks and turkeys from raccoons, but we lose quite a few each year to those ninjas. I find feathers everywhere, body parts strewn about, and I can't help but imagine the terrifying experience of that bird as it was chased and dragged to its death. We lose far more animals to this predatory demise than to our, relatively, more humane methods.

Last year, we lost over half of our chickens and a whole flock of runner ducks to predators. One of our goats became ill and died, another goat got his head stuck under the manger and broke his own neck, and our two longtime canine companions both died - one of old age and the other from the sudden development of Addison's Disease. Compared to the abundance of unexpected deaths we had to process on our farm over the last year, the one afternoon that we quickly dispatched 5 of our turkeys seemed, well, not quite so awful.

To some extent, it probably sounds like I'm trying to rationalize our meat consumption. This morning, I was doing one of my least favorite chores. After we roast a bird and eat most of the meat, I boil it to make broth and strip all of the rest of the meat from the bones. I find it really disgusting. But today, I realized that I was a bit less grossed out than in the past. I was aware of how the tendons connected, the structure of the bird, and less sensitive to the fact that I was handling the flesh of an animal. I guess I'm becoming desensitized.

The fact is, we still eat far less meat than most Americans, and I think it is plenty. We bought 10 organic, free-range chickens from Barnyard Gardens this fall and kept two of our butchered turkeys. These will last the year. Each time we pull one from the freezer, we have one special meal, some leftovers, and then broth for soup. Poultry raised on our small farms does not deplete resources the way factory farms do, they contribute organic matter for our gardens rather than adding devastating amounts of untreated sewage into the environment, they live happy and healthy lives, they are killed as humanely as possible, and we eat meat that we know is free of hormones and chemicals, and is actually far more nutritious than store-bought meat. (That's because our birds eat bugs and slugs and weeds and vegetable scraps.)

Vegetarianism is perfectly sustainable, as long as people are good at balancing meals, and making sure they choose organic, non-GMO sources. For those who choose to eat meat, I encourage everyone to avoid factory-farmed meats of any kind. The conditions are nightmarish, the environmental cost is not factored into the lower price (nor are the tax subsidies), and it is an inefficient way to grow food. With growing concern about food shortages throughout the world, we really need to eat sustainably. The population is growing, biodiversity is diminishing, and food scarcity is a reality in many places, and spreading.

Read Jane Goodall's "Harvest for Hope." The first chapter is pretty depressing, but she does offer success stories and ideas for action later in the book.

Creating Thanksgiving Tradition

2009-11-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

I have fond memories of Thanksgivings from my childhood, piling into the car and driving to my Grandma's house, which would be filled with the same familiar smells each year. My Grandma was (still is) a simple woman who survived on potato chips and processed meats, but on Thanksgiving, she made a fantastic, home-cooked meal. My uncle, aunts and cousins would be there, the parade would be on T.V., the adults started imbibing early and were giddy all day. After dinner, they played poker while the kids swiped as much dessert as we could manage. My strongest impression from those Thanksgivings is a house filled with laughter.

Now, I live far from family, and they all live far from each other. My cousins are distributed as far as Japan, and my Grandma has descended into deep dementia. For many years, Thanksgiving was almost a non-holiday for me, just a day that the stores were closed. While in relationships, I joined with my boyfriends' family, which was always pleasant. When I was single, there were sometimes potlucks with friends. I tried to create a tradition of forcing people to watch "Trail of Tears" or other documentaries about the history of Native American subjugation. "Life-of-the-Party", I think they called me.

When Anouk was born, I felt more nostalgia for those childhood memories, and it has been important to me to create a tradition based on family and extended family, along with an emphasis on food (growing our own, understanding agricultural politics, appreciating how we are connected to the earth through our food.) Unfortunately, our friends usually have plans with their own extended families, so it is just us three, and my dad usually makes an appearance.

Added to the challenge is the fact that I have always been an abysmal cook. I don't enjoy cooking, and have resented the fact that this part of Thanksgiving was considered my responsibility. I served very mediocre vegetarian Thanksgiving dinners for many years, so my dad got in the habit of stopping by, making his appearance, then heading to join with friends eating more savory and meat-centered meals, probably with much more festivity. Then Mike, Anouk and I would head to the movies.

The past two years have improved. Our more successful efforts at growing our own food, along with raising our own turkeys, has helped to define our family's tradition. This meal involves food that we have been intensely involved with from cultivation through harvest and preservation. I believe our appreciation for the food is heightened by that relationship, especially when it comes to the turkey. When you nurture a living creature and kill it yourself, the weight of that life feels significant, maybe profound.

Mike cooked last year's meal, and he did a far better job of it than I ever have. So, he is doing it again today. He has brined the turkey overnight and is preparing it for the oven right now. I harvested some carrots, took string beans out of the freezer, and cooked a LOT of pumpkin this past week. He's mashing our own potatoes, but he also bought a bag of groceries to add to the meal; sweet potatoes, parsnips, celery, onions and some spices. This morning I got up and made desserts (all pumpkin) and now I'm off to work in the studio. I plan to make some time to play games with Anouk later.

I still feel like this is a dull holiday for Anouk. She is aware that we are having a special meal and honoring our food today, but she has to make her own fun. We pulled out the boxes of Christmas decorations, books and videos, and she has been watching Frosty the Snowman, coloring in her Xmas activity books, pulling out our stockings. Today marks the beginning of the Holidays, a month or more of decorating, buying gifts, vacation and celebration that helps us get through the dreary wintertime.

It would be great if we could join with another family to bring more festivity to our tradition, but this is where we are right now. Far from family, but happily enjoying each other, our land, and our harvest.

New Artist Identity

2009-11-23T10:00:00.001-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had an epiphany regarding my business. For years, I've been trying to market myself as an architectural mosaic artist, dropping off pamphlets and portfolios with designers and sending emails to architects. While having lunch with the the other two artists involved in the enhancement of this new pediatric office, the more experienced of the three of us mentioned that the name of your business is of utmost importance when addressing architects. Apparently, they can be incredibly picky on this point. She explained that she shifted from a more casual, fun name to her actual name in order to put give a stronger impression with architects.

Immediately after this lunch, I had a meeting with a business advisor who drove the point home. She said no architect would even consider hiring "Cosmic Blue Monkey" for a commission, despite the quality of my work. This was shocking news to me, so I set to work right away figuring out how to reinvent my business in order to get paid actual income for my hard labor. I finally came up with JK Architectural and Fine Art Mosaic, and I have created a temporary website to go with it.

It is suddenly very clear to me that this is an extremely important step for me as an artist, and the time is right. For many years, I have enjoyed making little, functional items for festivals and holiday bazaars, but the profit margin on these things is nonexistent. They are so very labor intensive that I spend hours working on things that I can only get $30 for in this tight market, and after overhead, that pretty much comes out negative. My focus on recycling may be noble, but it won't put food on our table, and I now have a studio chock full of trash that I hope to make into something of quality, someday. I need to narrow my focus. It is time to stop mosaicking every jelly and mayo jar we use, stop soaking labels off of beer bottles thinking I'll find a use for them, stop saving milk cartons and laundry soap jugs. Then I will have more room to store the cupboard doors that I use for mosaic panels, the many containers of glass scrap, and really useful pieces of cement board and wedi for good quality mosaic panels.

I feel like such a grown up!

While I can't stop making things, and will certainly continue to crochet, sew and print during my "relaxation time", it is time to let go of that as a potential income generator. If I had found THE product that everyone loves, and had felt inclined to make that thing over and over, it would have worked out great. But the thing I love to make, and the thing I'm best at, is mosaic art that enhances spaces in a way that is functional and also decorative. For me, nothing brings things to life like mosaic, and I see potential for it everywhere.

I'm not ready to let go of Cosmic Blue Monkey Designs. I spent half the summer mosaicing a big sign for my studio, which isn't going anywhere. But I hope JK Architectural and Fine Art Mosaic will come to be known as one of the best sources for creative home and business accents on the West Coast, that I will be sought out for restaurants and courtyards and entryways and window treatments and , and, and....

See: http://www.jkmosaic.yolasite.com/

Michael Specter - Denialistic?

2009-11-18T08:28:00.000-08:00

I listen to NPR in my studio each day while I'm working. It keeps me informed, inspired, and incensed. Yesterday, I heard that author Michael Specter would be interviewed about his new book, "Denialism; How Irrational Thinking Hinders Scientific Progress, Harms the Planet, and Threatens Our Lives." This sounded very compelling, as I am so stymied by mainstream denial of things like climate change, poverty, injustice, health care issues, nutrition, and problems associated with our current agricultural methods. I expected Mr. Specter to give everyone a good lashing.

Instead, he denounced any relationship between immunizations and autism, made a stink about people who take vitamins, and stated that we might solve world hunger by embracing genetically modified foods and reducing emphasis on organic farming.

Now, it has been six years and I have gotten rid of all of my "Immunization Research" file, but when Anouk was born, I read extensively about vaccinations. It is a very emotional subject when you are trying to make the best decision for the health of your child. I recall that every study I read was funded all or in part by an Autism research organization or pharmaceutical companies or insurance companies. Depending on funding sources, conclusions varied dramatically, so it was important to read through it carefully. Most compelling to me were papers and articles explaining how immunizations work when they enter the body, and that there are inherent, measured neurological effects. I found an excellent pediatrician who is informed on both sides of the issue, who took time to help me with this huge decision, and we worked out a vaccination schedule that I feel good about. My daughter is immunized against the major diseases (not chicken pox) and will be protected when we travel to other countries, but she was never administered a "cocktail" where they give up to 5 shots at the same time. Her doctor's main argument is that he sees far more children getting diseases from lack of immunization than children who have been affected by Autism. So, it's a crap shoot, but parents are usually making this choice after serious research, not out of deliberate ignorance.

As for vitamins, who cares? Maybe they help, maybe they don't. I personally believe that we have far better results from eating a good diet, so I rarely take supplements. My husband takes a handful of vitamins every day, and has been seeing his cholesterol improve steadily with no other lifestyle change. If he thinks it helps, I support it.

Now, the organic food question is one that gets me all steamed up. I'm no expert, but from all that I've read and heard (on NPR, of course), our stupid agricultural methods are part of what has gotten us into this mess to begin with. More and more food is grown on high-production farms, using pesticides, sold for bottom dollar. Scientists believe it is a contributing factor to the loss of about 1/3 of our commercial bee population, which then results in lower crop yield, and we are anticipating future decreases in food supply from bee shortages alone. Pesticide run-off enters our water systems, causing environmental degradation and affecting the fish we have also relied on for food. Food can be grown locally, in people's yards, on rooftops, in raised beds - I even heard about a CSA in New York where the food is grown in a truck bed. Small, organic, community farms are being cultivated in some poverty stricken areas, providing good food for the local people. (I heard about it on NPR!) Michael Specter's suggestion that we create synthetic foods with little inherent nutritional value (I believe they add vitamins) to feed to poor people strikes me as very "Soilent Green."

When a caller questioned the author on this topic, he started talking again about genetically modified foods solving the hunger problem, rather than answering her question, which gave me the impression that he has not fully researched this topic. I think he has an opinion and he's sticking to it. That's denialism, buddy.

While genetically modified food is not necessarily the same as non-organic food, I recall reading an article that explained how one affects the other. An example described two adjacent farms, both growing corn, one genetically modified to resist a pesticide and the other organic. By creating a corn variety that is not killed by this pesticide, they can spray it liberally by plane, killing the weed or bug or whatever they are trying to eliminate, but not hurting the corn. But, the pesticide doesn't just go away. The nearby organic farm gets a good dose of the spray by proximity, which takes out a portion of their non-resistant crop. The pesticide also enters the water table, so everyone else in the neighborhood gets to drink it, water their crops with it, and wildlife get their share as well.

So, obviously, I am not a scientist or an expert of any kind, and I'm writing this from memory without siting sources. But, I swear, the original sources were reliable. For Michael Specter to claim that everyone who reads the same information, yet does not draw conclusions in agreement with his own, is in denial seems superbly arrogant.

Now, if he had just made statements that I agree with, I'd say he was right on the money!

Contemplations on turning 40

2009-11-17T09:04:00.000-08:00

I started thinking about turning 30 when I was 27. Mainly, I thought about what I wanted my 30s to look like, and how to get there. I was alarmed by what I had not yet accomplished or experienced, so I set about achieving a few goals. I rented an art studio, started putting my work out into galleries and shops and doing informal shows. I traveled to Europe and Mexico. And I switched gears on my career, moved from Seattle back to Olympia, got involved with my good friend Mike, got married, bought this property, got pregnant and had a baby, all within three years. I started my business and have been working steadily at being an artist and living sustainably for the duration of my 30s.

This year, I had a similar experience, realizing I'm swiftly approaching a new decade and wondering "what now?" What do I want my 40s to look like? Forty is hard. The physical changes are more tangible: my weight had redistributed so my clothes don't fit right anymore, my eyes can't focus on anything within about 16" of my face, I've lost stamina and motivation to work out, my back is vulnerable, and I've experienced (too soon, too soon!) perimenopausal symptoms.

As a woman, I think 40 is a significant age. The bloom is officially off your rose. My mental image of a woman at age 40 is subdued. I put on my black leather, knee-high, lace-up Fleuvogs and wonder, "Am I too old to wear these?" I think I am supposed to stick to high-waisted jeans, plain knit tops and practical brown shoes. (Though jeans now cut into my thicker waist and squeeze my thighs like sausages.)

I think of all of the things I will no longer do. I don't think I'll ever go club dancing again. I can't stand being drunk nowadays, though I sometimes crave the silly abandon that comes with it. I'll never experience that exhilaration of falling in love, first kiss, the exploration of a new romantic partner. No more road trips where I get in my car with my dog and just go, camping spontaneously on logging roads or sleeping in parking lots. No more uncontrollable laughter late into the night with a good girl friend.

And there are the things I never did. Things I meant to do. I never went off traveling without a partner along. I was never in a Yaz cover band called "Strangler Fig." I never got a graduate degree or learn to play an instrument or ride my bike down the coast or learn aerial rope dancing.

But then, I never planned on having a child. And I never believed I could actually work as an artist. I have no regrets, not really.

Still, as I prepare to enter the next decade of my life ("Your last juicy decade" to quote a friend of mine) I feel like I'm doing some kind of housecleaning of my identity. I want to become more organized at home, more focused with my work, to earn a fair wage that actually contributes to our household income, to live more simply, to find time for fitness, to find time for self-care (baths, meditation, visiting friends, reading BOOKS, writing, playing), and to get back in touch with my humor and imagination. And Mike bought me an accordion for as an early birthday present, which I am determined to learn to play.

I've gone through a lot of processing during the past year, thinking about all of this. There has been a lot of letting go of old, worn out expectations. Now, I am feeling excited about the potential for growth and achievement. I'm ready to welcome 40 and to celebrate.

Mid-November Update

2009-11-16T09:40:00.000-08:00

Winter life here on our little homestead is so different from summer. As I type, the trees outside my window are swaying dramatically in the wind and rain is pelting down. The sky is deep grey, and I find myself feeling sluggish and unmotivated. The only heat sources in my studio are a plug-in radiator that has very little effect and a huge propane blower that is very loud and the propane fumes give me a headache. So, it is very easy for me to procrastinate going out there, choosing to write a blog enry instead. This is increasing my internet visibility after all, so it counts as "marketing."

That said, I have been very focused on my business in a variety of ways. Last week, I met with a woman from the Small Business Development Center, which offers FREE advice for people like me. I occasionally take business workshops or go to seminars, but having someone sit with me one-on-one and address my individual business needs was invaluable. She spent 2 hours with me, discussing my goals and making some financial calculations that resulted in a precise hourly amount that I need to charge my clients in order to be viable. It is several times my current fee, so we discussed how to promote myself differently in order to get into the appropriate market, which is high-end custom architectural mosaic.

We decided that I need a new business identity for this purpose, along with a separate website just for my fine art and architectural work. Since this meeting, I have been obsessed with defining this new identity and making this important transition. I feel ready to focus my energy on fantastic installation work, and to let go of many of the many little items that I make for recycled art festivals and holiday bazaars. I will continue to do these, for now, but with more mosaics and less minutae.

Still, I am constantly creating inventory for upcoming holiday sales. I have a new crocheted hat design that is very fun. I'm cutting and repurposing sweaters into stockings, hats, and mittens every night. Then I carry them around with me, embroidering the seams whenever I am sitting for any length of time. I pulled out my linocut supplies last night, so I'll be using old designs to print holiday cards. I have all of these materials on hand, so I want to use them up. This may be my last year selling sweater items and other random things.

The farm is quiet now. There are only 3 turkeys, and they have been going obediently into their coop when I coax them in, around 4pm each day. The chickens are barely laying, and I've been meaning to get a light that will operate on a timer. I do have to make sure they are locked up tight every evening before dark. One disappeared on a recent night that I came home late, and I find raccoon tracks in the mud of the chicken yard every morning. The goats have thickened up, and they like to stay indoors when it rains, so they are staying out of trouble. I just borrowed a truck and brought home a winter's supply of hay.

Using wood heat is probably the biggest effort for me during the winter. I move and stack wood onto the back porch a couple of times each week. Then, every night, I need to wake up every 2-3 hours to add wood to the fire or it will go out. Our newfangled woodstove burns too hot and cannot be turned down. This is the most difficult thing for me, as a person who relies on good sleep for sanity. To go to bed at 10pm, get up over and over, then wake up at 6am - I just feel zombie-like all day.

I'm still harvesting carrots and tomatoes now and then. Last week I cleaned the chicken coop and used the bedding to mulch the veggie beds. I noticed some chard re-growing. Mike has been mulching the perennial beds on the weekends, working all day in the cold and rain. I've been trying to cut up and freeze or cook the pumpkins. We don't have an appropriate place to store pumpkins; nothing cool and dry. They are on the covered porch, but still in the damp air, so they won't last all winter. We could put them in the cabin, but we would be likely to forget them down there. We have made pumpkin gnocchi, pumpkin soup (only I will eat it), pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, and of course, pumpkin pie. We have been straying from our only-homegrown diet, buying convenience foods more and more often. Anouk is the biggest challenge, since she will rarely eat what I make. I keep cans of green beans and pineapple on hand for her, and along with milk, that makes up the bulk of her subsistence.

In other news, I am turning 40 in a couple of weeks. But I think that deserves its own entry, if I decide to make my thoughts about it public. Forty. I just don't know if I'm ready yet.

Drastic Plastic

2009-11-13T10:18:00.000-08:00

This past Monday, I taught a recycled art project to my daughter's Kindergarten/1st Grade class. After they were finished, I stood in front of the room and talked for a few minutes about recycling and resourcefulness (their word of the day).

The next morning, when I was dropping Anouk off for school, one of the Kindergarteners came up to me and said, in a very rehearsed way, "I am not going to recycle. I will just bring all of my garbage to you for your art projects." I had the distinct impression that a parent told her to say it, and it emphasized a defeated feeling that I carry with me most of the time.

Everywhere I go, I notice the plastic and other garbage. Some garbage uses precious resources, but will eventually biodegrade, or at least sit in a landfill for a thousand years without leaching toxins into the dirt (like glass.) However, plastic is created from petroleum, a non-renewable resource. And plastic does not biodegrade - it photodegrades, which means it breaks down into smaller and smaller pieces, releasing dioxins into the environment in the process. Dioxins are produced during the creation and destruction of plastic, especially with PVC, and are known carcinogens. Recent tests show that, in places where dioxin levels are highest, women in those populations have a corresponding high incidence of miscarriage. Who knows what other effects are currently taking place?

There is an area known as the Great Pacific Garbage Patch where currents flow together and bring floating plastics to one localized spot. It is roughly twice the size of Texas. An easy place to start learning more about this is by typing Great Pacific Garbage Patch into Wikipedia. There are also videos posted on Youtube where you can see what it is like.

It is easy for people to simply throw plastics away and imagine that the garbage is gone, or far far away. But, those dioxins are now found in most sea life, and it is getting into our bodies directly (by eating fish) and indirectly (by eating things that are part of the food chain.) While watching a presentation by Captain Charles Moore, I was really stunned by one particular sad story. Many sea-birds, like the Albatross, gather their food from the surface of the ocean, but cannot distinguish between live food and floating plastic. These birds are collecting plastics and feeding it to their young. The photo that I attached shows the remains of a baby Albatross that starved to death with a belly full of plastic garbage. This is becoming a serious problem, and it breaks my heart.

Here I am, doing my best to prevent any unnecessary plastic from coming into my house, finding ways to incorporate it into building projects when it does, and hoping to raise some level of awareness through my art. But, I am plagued by a feeling that I'm not doing enough. Some say that we can overcome these problems one person at a time, but I don't see how that is going to get us out of this. There needs to be more effort at the corporate level. We need to develop alternatives that can be used by the medical profession and in so many other places where plastic has become the only real product that will work for certain things. The fact that nurses, dentists, food prep workers, etc. all over the world are putting on and tossing out plastic gloves one after another all day long haunts me. The image fast food cups and lids generated every day lives in my head. As a society, we need to find ways to reuse containers, invent biodegradeable plastics, and stop wrapping every single product in layers of thick plastic.

One other source that I absolutely love is Story of Stuff. It is a 20 minute video you can find online that is very accessible for anyone, including older kids. It outlines the problem in a very concise way and offers ideas for a different way of life. http://www.storyofstuff.com.

One more story that I heard during an interview with Anne Leonard really floored me. She visits garbage dumps all over the world, and she learned that a large number of children are killed in garbage landslides. She said she met one family that had lost 4 children to garbage. She said, "Children are dying of garbage." It is time to make a change, folks.

Seeds of Compassion

2009-11-12T15:07:00.000-08:00

First, I feel compelled to admit that I am not a practicing Buddhist. I am not a practicing anything. Maybe I'm too undisciplined, but mostly I find that no one belief system fits for me, although many have something to offer, and there is nothing about Buddhism that I don't like. I love the focus on compassion above all.

Raising a young child compassionately is one thing. Teaching a child how to BE compassionate is another. Children can be so inherently self-centered and lacking in empathy. Sometimes I feel like I am droning on and on about how it is important to treat others as you would like to be treated, imagine how the other person feels, please be more gentle with the dog, remember how lucky we are when so many others are without homes or food, blah blah blah... Then she cuts in with some tangential comment that tells me that I sound to her like the adults on Charlie Brown cartoons.

But, this year (age 6), I am noticing some significant effects of all of that droning. The teachers have commented that my girl has been a role model, speaking up when kids are being mean to those with differences. She is learning about oppression, and it frustrates her that some of our friends are not allowed to be legally married and that many white people are afraid of people of color. She is noticing injustices around her, little by little, and asking hard questions.

I am thinking about this today especially because our car was stopped on a corner where a man stood holding a sign saying, "Anything Helps." Anouk said, "Mommy, give that man some money." We do sometimes give change, sometimes not. Just a few weeks ago, we bought a guy a meal. But, this time I chose not to. The guy looked younger than me, able bodied, and I suspected he might be an addict. Anouk pulled $2 of her allowance money out and said, "Please give this to him." And I did.

I was proud of her, but also wanted to explain why we don't give money to everyone asking for it. For one, we can't afford to. We live on a tight budget. But, I also explained that he might be using the money to buy something that is bad for him, like alcohol. She answered firmly that it didn't matter. She said that we don't know what he needed it for, and maybe her $2 would help him somehow to get a job. And she's right. It doesn't matter.

We read a great little book recently called, "The Crocodile and the Hen." In it, a crocodile keeps trying to eat a hen, but the hen calls him "brother" and this perplexes the crocodile. He can't understand how they could be related, since they are so different. Eventually, a lizard points out that they all lay eggs, so that makes them like family. From that day on, the crocodile and hen were great friends. When Anouk and I talked it over, we decided that, if everyone looked at what they have in common with each other, rather than what is different, we would all get along much better. Since then, she has been looking for examples of this lesson in real life, making some great observations.

I feel like I've been fumbling through parenting, trying to be honest, apologizing when I'm wrong, sometimes losing my patience, and often just negotiating my way through the day. And then there are moments like today, when she pulled out most of her precious cash-stash to give to a stranger, I figure I'm doing ok.

What is a Cosmic Blue Monkey?

2009-11-09T13:55:00.000-08:00

People are often amused by my business name: Cosmic Blue Monkey Designs. The question is often asked, "Why?" So here it is in a nutshell...

Years ago, I had a close friend who loved to explore all things metaphysical. She was well versed in Numerology, could tell me what was going on in my life based on my muscle tension and facial blemishes, studied Aryuveda, and delved into Mayan Astrology. Apparently, the Mayans had their own complex system of astrology, each of us has a "signature" and this tells you something about your purpose in life. A signature is a combination of 3 elements, so each person is something like a "White Magnetic Dog" (that's my husband) or a "Yellow Spectral Warrior" (my daughter.) When my friend informed me that I am a Blue Cosmic Monkey, I was thrilled! How fun is that? And it felt just right.

Each part of the signature tells me something about my life's motivation. The color is my "source of power" and Blue means Transformation, intuition, energy, vision, magic, healing. The middle word is a "tone" which determines my function, and Cosmic is this: The patience of a tree. You are a great listener. Able to see above the fray of dramas, transcending argument & offering calm, objective advice. And the last word is your "tribe," which tells you your "archetypal essence." Monkey is Play, Illusion, Magic, Artistic Trickster. There's more to it, but that is the simple explanation.

However, I prefer the cadence of Cosmic Blue Monkey, so I use that for my business name. You can find your Mayan signature here: http://www.galactichardwarestore.com/calculator/mayan_calculator.php It is fun to play with.

It's November.

2009-11-05T09:12:00.000-08:00

As I type, a pot of pumpkin is brewing on the stove. Usually, I pop them in the oven for an hour or so, then remove the guts and peel. I can then cut up the soft flesh and turn it into a puree with my Vitamix. Unfortunately, the consistency is way different from the canned pumpkin I buy at the store, so my pie takes longer to cook and is not very firm. I asked Mike to help me carve one up last night (it takes some strength!) and we cut it into pieces to get it ready to boil. I am hoping that I can puree the boiled flesh and get a thicker consistency that will work better with my recipes.

This weekend, friends will be coming over for a "Pumpkin Celebration" where we will all share pumpkin-oriented dishes and recipes. I'm hoping this will help stave off pumpkin overload, which is already setting in.

While we are having a remarkably mild Fall so far, it is always colder in my studio than it is outside, and I'm finding it more and more difficult to get an early start each day. My toes and fingers get chilled out there, and cold fingers are clumsy. My work suffers. I have a propane heater out there, but it smells awful and gives me a headache, so I try to work in the cold unless temps are really low.

I'm about halfway done with the project I'm working on for an Olympia Pediatric clinic. My friend Heather Taylor-Zimmerman is painting extensive, amazing murals on the ceilings and walls of the clinic, depicting jungles and oceans. Feltmaker Janice Arnold is making vines, animals and clouds that will be integrated into the space. I am creating glass-on-glass mosaic panes for the entryway and vines that will decorate pillars on the exterior. The idea is to make it a fun place for patients to go and to offset the anxiety kids feel when going to the doctor. It is going to be fantastic. One thing that amazes me is to visit the clinic and see how much Heather has accomplished with paint compared to my own progress in the studio. Mosaic is just incredibly painstaking.

In the meantime, I have holiday bazaars scheduled in Olympia in early December, so I'm working in the evenings to make inventory for those. Lately, it has been harder than ever to keep up my stamina. I've been exhausted, and all I want to do is relax and read or take a bath. But, I feel that I must keep making things every spare minute because we are counting on that income. Last night, I was cutting out stockings while making dinner, and we couldn't eat at the table because it is covered with fabric pieces.

Also, I am trying to get my books in order and apply for public art projects and keep marketing myself so that I have another commission after this one is finished. It usually takes most of a workday just to submit for a call for art, and I have only had success one time (in 2007 for a $600 stipend.) I know that I need to hire a photographer and spend a day going around to all of my former job sites to photograph the work in context and with that professional touch. When I finally do this, I might have a real shot at a modest public art project, but it is expensive.

I have found this to be the busiest time of year for me. I seem to get commissions in the Fall, at the same time that I need to build a stash of holiday stuff to sell. I should be posting items on Etsy, but that is yet more time photographing, formatting, and typing descriptions. I need an assistant!

I think my pumpkin is burning...

Day of the Dead...Turkeys.

2009-11-02T08:43:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the day of reckoning for all but three of our turkeys. The previous day, I had to keep them cooped without access to food to prepare. This was the hardest part for me. It felt cruel, and I cringed whenever I walked outside to hear them gobbling for me to let them out. I woke up on Sunday morning with a queasiness in my gut, and hoped our friends would come over early to get it over with.

Our friends, Paul and Kirsten, own Barnyard Gardens in Shelton, a CSA farm and edible landscaping business. Paul grew up farming, and he was the horticulture teacher at Mike's school until he began his business. Kirsten is a farm extension agent, and she works with small farms and agricultural outreach programs through UW, in addition to working the farm and selling produce at their local farmer's market.

They brought over their truckload of equipment and set everything up in our driveway, adjacent to the coops. Mike filled huge buckets of hot water to pour into a large metal container with a propane heater to keep the water at 145 degrees. There was a problem with the heater, so Paul had to do some rewiring, creating a delay. I was worried that they wouldn't be able to carry out the process. I had an old friend driving from Portland (2 hour drive) for a turkey, and I really wanted to be able to send him home with one. Besides, I didn't want to drag it out another day.

Paul and Kirsten have a 1-year-old boy, so I gladly took on kid-duty. While I feel that we all need to be able to face the reality of our meat production, I am still not comfortable with it. But I have decided that, since I raise the turkeys with a lot of care, I should be allowed to duck inside when they are killed. Thankfully, my friends arrived right at the beginning, offering me a welcome distraction. During the time it took to show them around the property and introduce them to the goats, the turkeys were all beheaded, dunked in the hot water, de-feathered, and "dressed".

Paul and Kirsten have a contraption that looks like a big plastic barrel on legs, with rubber nubs all over the interior. They put the turkeys in this thing and it quickly pulls out the feathers as it spins. The whole operation is quick, clean and efficient.

We are left with one tom and two hens, and we will attempt to breed them this spring - something that is rarely done anymore. (Domestic turkeys are unable to breed on their own and can't live past a year anyway, and heirloom breeds like ours are rare.) I look forward to seeing them raise their own chicks. We will have to make some changes to protect our birds from predators, possibly installing electrical fencing. We lost half of our turkeys, which is a huge loss. In fact, we just lost two more chickens on Halloween because I was out late with Anouk, and Mike forgot to close the coop. But, if we can manage our flock well from now on, we might be able to sell great, free-range turkeys for a profit every year. While figuring our price per pound, I did online research and was shocked to learn that people pay $100-$200 for a free-range heritage turkey. This year, we are losing money for sure, but I think we can do better.

It is a relief to have only the 3 beautiful white turkeys to manage for the rest of winter. The coop was getting crowded and I was getting very tired of chasing them all around every night to collect them. They were ranging farther and farther, and I had to get them out of the neighbor's yard twice (and they are NOT friendly neighbors.) Clipping their right wings had little effect, except that they didn't roost on our rooftops anymore.

So, on this Day of the Dead, my thoughts are going most immediately to those silly turkeys that lost their lives yesterday to become nourishment for a few humans. It sure brings a new level of appreciation for our Thanksgiving dinner.

Avoiding Halloween Sugar-Overload

2009-10-30T10:45:00.000-07:00

It is the day before Halloween, and our family persists in charging out into the night to demand candy from strangers. As a child, this was one of my favorite traditions, and I am sad to see how few children are allowed to carry it on. There is such a culture of fear in our country that people take their kids to the mall during the day to collect candy. How does that compare to striking out into a spooky Autumn night, trees and leaves rustling in the wind, venturing up to one door after another, never knowing who will answer? But, some unfounded rumors of razors embedded in apples, and an increasing mistrust of our neighbors, has changed all of that.

Many of my parent friends don't send their kids out simply because the sugar overload is an experience they dread. My daughter reacts strongly to sugar also, but I feel like it is a once-a-year indulgence, and I can deal with it. However, here is one technique we use to create a compromise:

We used to allow Anouk to keep something like 10 pieces of candy, and we traded the rest for a new toy (something she has been wanting, purchased ahead of time to make it easy to give up the candy.) Last year, she was five, so we made the arrangement a bit more sophisticated. We decided we were willing to offer her up to $20, and she had collected around 25 pieces of candy. We said we would give her a dollar for each piece she gave up, and would take her to her favorite toy store to spend it. Initially, she traded for $15, keeping 10 pieces of candy. At the store, the toy she wanted cost $18, so she gave up three more pieces of candy.

One thing to keep in mind is to follow through on the arrangement as soon as possible. Immediate gratification is key for kids and negotiation. Also, as she grows, she will get faster and more efficient at collecting candy, and we won't be able to offer as much money per piece. We will have to stay flexible and change the arrangement as she grows. Eventually, she may just stick with the candy.

As a kid, I stayed out late trick or treating, collecting bag after bag of candy. I made that candy last until Easter. Each kid is different, but so far, we are all satisfied with this method, and Anouk learns a little lesson in value and commerce.

Jizo Bodhisattva Mosaic

2009-10-29T09:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I managed to get to a small business conference in East Olympia by the skin of my teeth. I dropped my daughter off at school and drove about 40 miles to the area that I expected to find the conference, based on the address. I got lost for a long time, but finally arrived about an hour and a half late. Enterprise for Equity, an organization that helps low income people start businesses (I went through their program 3 years ago) made it possible for me to attend by paying most of the fee. And my friend Tara offered to pick Anouk up from school in the afternoon so that I could stay for the whole program.

It was nice to put on clothes that weren't covered in adhesive and to venture out into the world. It felt validating to present myself as a business owner, a professional in my field. I was reminded of many key principles that I tend to ignore, like the importance of factoring profit into my pricing and tracking cash flow.

The last seminar of the day focused on using social media to promote business, and the speaker (Dave Bryant) discussed the use of networking sites and blogs to get attention. He said, "Every business should have a blog." Now, I have been posting on my blog, but I rarely address my work here. I do online networking with my mosaic colleagues and I post updates on my Facebook business page, but I will make more of an effort to write about my life as a working artist on this blog.

In August, I completed a new mosaic panel featuring the image of Jizo Bodhisattva. I have felt drawn to this symbol for about seven years now, but this is my first attempt to create it in mosaic. As a background for the story, I had moved from Seattle, where I had been a dancer in a troupe for about six years prior. Now, I was living a couple of hours drive from my friends, way out here in the sticks, and I was pregnant. One of the other dancers had a baby, and the baby had a heart condition. She underwent surgery, which seemed to be a success at first. But, she suddenly passed away, and when I heard this news, I was heartbroken. I spent a lot of time grieving by myself, for the sweet little 11-month old girl I had held and played with a few months earlier, and for my friend's unfathomable loss.

At the same time, it hit me that the baby growing inside of me was also a vulnerable little being, and how I was already changing, becoming fiercely attached to this child in a way that I had never felt about anything. I realized that, if anything this terrible happened to my baby, my life would be shattered.

During this time, I discovered the Jizo image, and it resonated strongly for me. Jizo is protector of women and children, guiding the passage between life and death, and he is a special symbol for parents who have lost children. I began painting Jizo images, wanting to manifest that sense of protection and peace. I framed one and gave it to my grieving friend, though I don't know if it offered any kind of solace for her. When my daughter was born, we planted her placenta with a Japanese Maple and placed a Jizo statue next to it.

Since then, I have loved the Jizo symbol. It is a simple image, conveying a serenity and acceptance that I aspire to. Finally, when I had some time to work on my own art (not commissioned), I made this piece. It is done onto a salvaged cupboard door using reclaimed stained glass. The skin tone is created with a really amazing glass that has an opalescence that you can really only see in person. The red attire is also opalescent. The simplicity and bright colors remind me of childhood innocence, while Jizo himself possesses a deep wisdom and calm.

Recently, a friend commented that she was surprised I would sell one of my mosaics that commemorates an experience from my travels. And it is true that it can be difficult to hand over a piece in which I am emotionally invested. At the same time, I feel unfulfilled if I only create decorative work. Most of my mosaics come from a very personal experience, and if I kept them all, I would not be in business. I do love when they are sold to friends, or customers with whom I keep in touch. I like seeing them again on occasion, or at least knowing who has them. I do have a hard time selling in galleries, where I am sent a check with no personal connection to the buyer. When someone buys my work, they take home a little part of me. (Literally- a good bit of my blood is embedded in each mosaic.)

So, now you know.

Killing wild vs. domestic animals

2009-10-22T09:24:00.000-07:00

Well, Autumn is in its full glory here in the Pacific N.W. One of my windows is glowing with gold from the leaves of Maples growing up from a ravine that runs behind our house. To the right, a large pasture stretches back to an evergreen forest that connects to the Black Hills, a low mountain range that I cannot see right now because mist rises up into low clouds. Shadowy silhouettes of trees fade into a gray background.

Every now and then, a truck or S.U.V. passes, and I see a flash of telltale neon orange in the cab. I hear occasional gunshots throughout the day, mostly echoing in the distance, but sometimes alarmingly close. The Porter Tavern, a small saloon that has been in business for something like 100 years here in our little town, has a large banner outside that says, "Welcome Hunters!" Every year at this time, I find myself revisiting my thoughts on the practice of hunting.

I grew up in the Northern Lower Peninsula of Michigan, a stone's throw from Ted Nugent. Hunting was a big part of the culture, so every Fall there were trucks driving around with deer carcasses in the back or cars with them strapped to the top, and it was common for antlers to be mounted to the grill. It seems like someone I knew got shot every year - one fatally, by his best friend. We dressed our dogs in bright colors in the Fall, making sure our Great Dane was covered in neon so he wouldn't be mistaken for a deer.

My uncle Bernie, one of the nicest guys you could meet, has always been a hunter. I loved visiting my cousins, but hated having to pass by the gutted deer hanging in the garage. I did, however, enjoy the venison they served that time of year, despite never being a big meat-eater.

In my early 20s, I lived in an army tent in a rural area not far from here, and when hunting season arrived, it was very scary. Hunters would drive out and park on our road, and just sit there in the cab and wait with their gun at the ready. When they left, there would be a pile of fast food packaging and alchohol containers left on the ground. When hunters describe this as a "sport", this is the image that comes to mind for me.

As a young woman, I became a quiet, but dogmatic, liberal. Becoming mostly vegetarian was no real sacrifice for me, as I had never cared for red meat at all. (Besides which, I was anorexic.) My social political opinions became more defined, and I was definitely against the barbaric practice of hunting.

Here I am at the very tail-end of my 30s, and I now eat poultry and fish, and occasional local buffalo. I try to eat only animals raised humanely, allowed to free-range and fed a natural diet. In fact, almost all of the meat we consume was raised on our land. I have always believed we should only eat animals if we can face the reality of its life and death. It continues to be a challenge for me. I have every respect for vegetarians, though I think meat has health benefits that are essential for many consitutions, and I black out less often now that I get occasional meat protein.

Barbara Kingsolver discusses this issue at length in "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" and she makes some very good points. The production of those meat-substitutes that so many vegetarians rely on is not without problems. I have always defended my non-meat eating by stating the fact that the resources used for raising meat could produce many times more vegetables and feed that many more people, which is very true. But it does not apply to those raising livestock on small farms. Also, there are regions and cultures that would starve if they did not eat meat, especially in very cold or desert climates.

Now, if I am justifying the killing of free-range animals for food, how is that different from hunting? Deer are flourishing, and venison is totally free range, organic, delicious, nutritious food. I think part of it is my own bias against hunting because of the negative impressions I described. Another aspect is the way I view wild animals. Deer are such peaceful, graceful, vulnerable animals. If you are not a threat, they will come right up to you - I've experienced this many times. The neighbor across from us has an orchard in his yard, which is well-fenced with "NO HUNTING" signs posted every few feet. (Despite this, hunters regularly stop to sit in front of his house, and they often ask if they can shoot the deer.) He whistles in the evenings, and the deer come to eat grain from his hand. During hunting season, they congregate here, sensing safety. Each spring, we see the does return with newborn fawns. We notice when one is missing, and when they are dead on the road. We watch them grow, see the antlers start, but the bucks don't return. I'm sure some are hunted and shot and others survive on their own. On a given evening, there can be 20-30 deer under those apple trees, and I just can't imagine killing one on purpose for food. However, I know this is a conceptual thing. I also couldn't kill a goat or a dog, but some cultures wouldn't think twice.

Which brings me to cute, furry bunnies. A few years ago, we were so overrun with rabbits (100 had escaped from a nearby farm and had taken over the neighborhood) that I was collecting and rehoming them. They were living and breeding in our barn, and man can they reproduce. They were a breed raised specifically for meat, and I thought a lot about how much more efficient this meat source is than any others. The meat is lean, reportedly very tasty, and plentiful. I think evolution resulted in the best natural defense of any for this animal: cuteness. Is there a more adorable creature? You just want to hold and cuddle them! I don't think I could ever bring myself to eat one.

So, I guess I've become slightly morally ambiguous on the subject of hunting. If an animal is endangered, it obviously should be protected. I still have a very hard time with the fact that these animals are often injured and left to suffer because the hunter couldn't complete the task, or even the stories of a hunter tracking a bleeding, limping deer for miles and miles before it finally collapses and slowly dies. This does not seem humane. I also think most hunters are out in the woods, drunk, with guns, jacked up on testosterone, and I am terrified of them. (The women are just as bad because they think they have something to prove.) I have many thoughts on the matter, but no clear conclusions, so I feel kind of silly posting it publicly. Oh well.

Did you know it is legal for blind people to hunt in Michigan?

Which is better; urban or rural?

2009-10-09T09:55:00.000-07:00

Once again, I was struck by a conversation I heard on NPR while working in my studio. This time, writer David Owen was insisting that New York City is the most environmentally sustainable place to live, possibly moreso than Seattle or Portland. I've never been to New York, so I don't have a strong opinion either way. But I've been considering the question of the environmental impact of city life versus country life, which has plagued me since moving out here to the sticks.

When I lived in Seattle, I biked almost everywhere. It was fairly easy to navigate the streets and find alternate routes that were more direct by bicycle than by car. If I was too tired or felt unsafe, I could wait for a bus and put my bike on it to go the rest of the way to my destination. My housemates and I grew gardens in our backyards to supplement our groceries. I think people living in the city can be very conscientious, and I do think it makes sense to condense all of that human activity to the smallest area possible to reduce impact.

At the same time, I recall feeling so overwhelmed all of the time by the constant noise, light, and stimuli around me. There are cars everywhere. Businesses keep their lights on, along with streetlights and parking lot lights, all night long for safety purposes. City life is busy, there is always something going on, and all of that entertainment uses a ton of energy and creates never- ending streams of garbage. Even now, when I visit Seattle or Portland, there is such a variety of exciting things to do, I feel like I'm missing out on a hundred of them. I also notice that I feel bombarded with storefronts full of enticing things to buy, and I feel the urge to consume.

In 2000, I moved back to Olympia, which is a very moderately-sized city with great communities. When I walk down the street, I always see people I know, and have known for 20 years, since it's where I went to college. Bicycling is easy in Olympia, the bus system is convenient, there are two co-ops, and people are generally very environmentally conscious. Truth be told, it has been the easiest place for me to live according to my own environmental standards. Many of my Olympia friends grow year-round gardens that are so much more manageable than my own, right in their small backyards. There is a thriving farmers market. People in Olympia produce their own biodiesel, compost, work together in community gardens, offer all kinds of classes and workshops for free, and most are the nicest people you've ever met. Can you tell I love Olympia?

But, we couldn't afford a home in Olympia when it came time to buy, and we were interested in having a large garden and goats. We had the idea that, in case of some kind of disaster, we wanted to be self-sufficient, as well as possible. The spot we eventually bought is 5.3 acres with a diverse ecosystem. There were already buildings on the property, so we wouldn't have to dig a well or put in a septic system. We lived in the 1970 mobile home for 5 years, then dismantled it by hand (recycling most of it), and had a 1400 s.f., passive solar home built on its footprint. We have replaced almost all of the lawns with vegetable and perennial gardens, which do require some watering, but no mowing.

Since we have a well, we are not pulling water from a larger system, and there is no treatment necessary. Our septic is the same story. It is a small system, and we use only biodegradeable cleaners and products so that our system can filter naturally. We originally thought that Mike would eventually move his job to the Elma school district, only 6 miles away. However, he has grown comfortable with his place as Special Ed teacher at the alternative high school that is a 45 minute drive away. This is our biggest carbon contributor. I have been working at home, restricting my drives to Olympia to about once per week, when I run all of the errands. Now that Anouk is in school, I drive her both ways, and this is another conundrum. She could catch the bus to a larger school, saving that gas and those emissions, but we are very attached to the 3-room-schoolhouse she attends, 12 miles away. When we can afford it, we will buy a hybrid or electric car. Growing our own food means less packaging, less fuel to transport produce, fewer pesticides being used, and the few animals we raise for meat living a good, healthy life. And we don't buy stuff. There is no need for a lot of stuff, and it's not in our faces, tempting us to buy, buy, buy. I don't need nice clothes, and what I have is bought second-hand.

Ultimately, I think people living in both rural and urban environments can make good choices. I love living out here. I love the quiet most of all, and the darkness at night, the trees. The guy across the street has a special whistle to call the deer, who come in the evenings to eat grain out of his hand. We have a 30-foot waterfall near our house. I hate city life. It feels oppressive and confining. When I visit a large city, I can't stop thinking of all of the toilets flushing, dishes being washed, flourescent lights, trash, etc. Not everyone can live in the city. And not every city-dweller is making conscientious choices. Most of us are just doing the best we can with what we have.

Sanctify Me

2009-10-01T14:28:00.000-07:00

Recently, while catching up with a friend, I talked about how we've been working hard to grow our own food, and that "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" had a big impact on my attitude about the time and labor I have to spend on this endeavor. My friend said, "But now you can be all sanctimonious and walk around feeling like you are better than other people." It was said tongue-in-cheek, but I felt that it came out of resentment, from a mother of three living in the city, just trying to maintain her sanity. It achieved the desired result; it shut me up.

Today, I was listening to an interview with a food critic on NPR about the latest trends in American food. She said people are very concerned about where their food comes from, how it is grown, seeking quality and sustainability with their food choices. There are different approaches, some eating free-range, grass-fed meats, some going vegetarian, locavores, etc. A man called in to say that this was all fine and dandy, but was there any way to keep these people from being so self-righteous about what they do and don't eat?! He called it "obnoxious." The radio personalities heartily agreed, and seemed apologetic.

When I was at my liberal arts college, studying women's issues and becoming aware of the wide range of injustices in the world, I found that I was not allowed to discuss these topics with non-college friends. Political topics were dubbed "too P.C.," and friends asserted that it was elitist to be politically correct. End of debate.

I have known my share of the stereotypical vegan-snobs who won't eat from a plate that has touched meat, insist that using honey is bee extortion, and who fly into a rage if the cook accidentally includes a dairy-based condiment with their meal at a restaurant. My own husband, a strict vegetarian until 3 years ago, once stacked menus between us at a restaurant in Poland to block his view of my plate of fish.

But most of us are just learning about the genuine impact of our food choices on the economy, environment, and the lives of animals and farmers, and we want to find balance.

The fact is, humans are eating more meat than the planet can support. People are starving in this and other countries, rainforest is being destroyed at an incomprehensible rate, animals are raised and slaughtered by disgusting and horrific methods, and illegal immigration is supported by a fast-food industry that relies on cheap labor for a dangerous job that legal United States citizens are not willing to do. However, animals can be raised humanely, sustainably, and resulting in higher quality nutrition, and most Americans would benefit from reduced meat consumption. Food purchased at a big box grocery store is produced far away by cheap labor. Buying local food saves fossil fuels, puts the money into the hands of our farmers (who are struggling to compete with big companies using unsustainable practices), and we eat fresher food with far better nutritional value. Growing some of your own food is very rewarding, the flavor is incomparable, and it saves money.

Some of you have more pressing challenges to attend to, and just getting food on the table is enough of a struggle. Some are simply not interested. But I have made this a huge part of my life, and I don't intend to be secretive about it to make other people more comfortable. I believe this is an important conversation, worth having, even if we don't agree. If people who feel passionately about an issue are silenced by those who feel they are "obnoxious" and "sanctimonious", we won't get very far.

Waste Free Lunch

2009-09-18T10:46:00.001-07:00

Last year, someone sent Anouk a Tinkerbell lunch box, which she loved. It was the soft kind, with a vinyl lining, and we used it all year. Unfortunately, there are a few drawbacks to this kind of lunchbox. Vinyl is evil, for one. The production of PVC is detrimental to the health of the workers in PVC factories, as carcinogenic compounds are created both in the production and destruction of PVC. There is a movie called "Blue Vinyl" that documents a woman's inquiry into the Vinyl industry that manages to be hilarious while exposing how horrific this industry is. So, I'm really trying to find alternatives to vinyl whenever possible.

Next, I keep hearing about pthalates in lunchboxes that may be released into the food contained therein. I haven't done any research into this, but I'd rather err on the side of safety when it comes to the food my child ingests. On Monday, a water bottle rep at the State Fair insisted to me that "anything you inject into a rat is likely to cause cancer." He also said the pthalate talk is all a plot to put water bottlers out of business. I say, if there's a chance it causes cancer, I'd rather not put it in my body and wait to find out.

More pragmatically, I found it hard to clean the lunchbox. Inevitably, Anouk would deliver home a box with schmutz smeared inside and out, into crevices in the seams, and soaked into the cloth cover. I would have to soak it and scrub it, and still there was always dried gook in the corners. On top of this, I needed to provide small, plastic containers and baggies to keep her food separate within the lunchbox. I don't like to put her food in plastic, and she would often throw them away, so there I was buying more plastic, nagging her all the time to pay more attention.

This year, before school started, I began a hunt for something better. I was looking for a pthalate-free lunchbox with a removeable, dishwasher-safe liner for easy cleaning. There are actually a lot of options out there. Sadly, few of them can compete for the novelty of a lunchbox with their favorite characters or bright designs on them. (Someone needs to work on this.) I happened into a Storables store in Portland in late August, not expecting to find anything useful. On display right in the entryway was a whole table of waste-free lunch items. There were the lunchboxes I had been searching for, some with very cute designs printed on them, pthalate-free with removeable liners. There were also some bento boxes, a Japanese stackable lunchbox system. These can be found in very fun shapes and colors, but are still plastic. On top of the whole display, like a beacon, were 2-tier Tiffin boxes, a lunch system from India made of stainless steel bowls that lock together with a handle on top. They were on sale for about $20, so I bought one.

Now that we've been using this Tiffin box for a couple of weeks, I can't tell you how happy I am with it. Mike was afraid that Anouk wouldn't be able to figure out the latch on it, but she got it right away. I was nervous that she would reject it for being plain, but she thinks it is really cool. I love that I can put saucy foods in without concern that it will spill in her backpack, and they are in separate containers. It came with a small, round container for dipping sauces, but I use it to send a little extra snack or treat. Best of all, they clean extremely easily. A little bit of soap and water is all it takes to get even sticky food off, and if I'm lazy I just pop them into the dishwasher.

There were also some reusable sandwich "bags" in the display, which were made of a waterproof material that you simply fold around your sandwich and velcro shut. When you unfold it, it is a placemat. So simple! I figured I could make some of these myself when I get around to it.

I know it is a bit late for posting information about lunches, but I'm in the throes of appreciation for our new system now, and I noticed that Bento and Tiffin boxes are much cheaper right now than they were in August. Look it up on Amazon.com to see the many sizes and colors there are. And if you send sandwiches, look into those reusable sandwich bags, and leave no plastic behind.

Animal,Vegetable, Miracle - Inspiration!

2009-09-15T10:22:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much time to get online and spend time typing this summer, because the garden has been keeping me on my toes. We had our most successful year, growing a steady supply of fresh, organic food, harvesting all of it, and freezing most of what we don't eat. I've chopped summer squash, blanched peas, beans, broccoli and cauliflower for freezing. I've baked many loaves of zucchini bread, eating some and freezing the rest. I've made batches of pesto, with more basil waiting to be transformed. I've started freezing chard, too. All of this will be welcome during winter months, and I hope it will help us reduce our grocery budget significantly, while providing us with high quality food that is sustainably produced.

Meanwhile, I picked up "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver from the library on cd. I've been putting it on while I work in the kitchen, bringing in bins of harvested food and either cooking or prepping it for preservation. I'm most of the way through it now, and it has been life-changing. When I started out listening, I thought I was already doing what she is writing about, growing our own organic food and making conscientious choices about how we supplement at the grocery store. She has given me a lot to reconsider regarding the purchase of organics foods from big box stores, and our occasional indulgence in meats of uncertain geographical origins. When we started eating homegrown turkey a few years ago, it was the beginning of a slippery slope. We now keep some Costco-bought ground turkey and turkey bacon on hand for inclusion in some meals. It is not organic or free-range, and we don't know anything about the conditions in which the turkeys were raised or how far the meat was transported. Not to mention the way the workers are treated in these "turkey factories" and the fact that it is packaged on styrofoam trays with plastic wrap. I really think this book is the most important one that I've read in many years, and I recommend it urgently to anyone who eats. I will be looking for local sources for many of the items I now buy from Costco or Trader Joes, like dairy and grains. In the meantime, the food-related tasks that can feel like drudgery, spending hours in the kitchen alone washing, cutting, blanching, peeling, packing - suddenly I feel a sense of triumph and purpose doing these things. I am proud of our life in the country and our amazing abundance, born out of hard work and sacrifice. We are intricately connected to our soil on our little piece of the Earth, as we feed it and it feeds us.

As for an update on our little homestead in September, the tomatoes are finally ripening, though we still don't have a door on the greenhouse, so the chickens are helping themselves to those juicy morsels within their reach. I've been harvesting the potatoes, and I think most are out of the ground now. I've pulled all of the garlic, pulled spent pea vines up to feed to the goats, and many of the bush beans are done producing. I found that the purple beans are going and going though. Zucchini is waning, but we are still getting some of the summer squashes. The chard continues to grow, and I wonder if it will ever stop. We are getting many carrots, but leaving most in the ground for now. We have pulled the last of the beets, which we use in morning smoothies. Next year, we need to grow many more of these. Now we are watching the winter squashes, all heirloom varieties. They are amazingly varied, some bright orange, some striped, some deep green, some smooth or ribbed or warty. Most amazing is the Serpente de Sicilia, a long, snakey squash that we are now harvesting, some of which are growing to 4 feet in length. I plan to cook one up tonight for the first time.

We've had serious issues with our turkeys and dogs. The turkeys are able to fly, unlike the domestic breed, so they often venture out of the enclosure to explore. We've had a dog break-out that resulted in two turkey injuries with recovery. We had one turkey disappearance without a trace. Two turkeys have been killed by our very small bishon-schitzu mix who can fit through gaps in our fencing. We are now down to 8 turkeys, with some committed to other people. We will be trading turkey for chicken, and giving one to friends who will butcher them for us. We plan to keep a tom and two hens for breeding, and hope to still have some for food. From listening to "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" I am also worried that breeding the turkeys will be a daunting task in and of itself, as it is something just not done any more. (Domestic turkeys cannot live more than a year and are physically unable to breed.)

While I no longer have to spend hours every day in the garden, we are still getting a lot of food and I'm struggling to get it all cooked or frozen. It is time-consuming, but well worthwhile for the amazing nutrition, money saved, biological diversity and fossil fuels preserved, and a child raised knowing where food really comes from.

Mosaic business and recycled art

2009-08-06T11:13:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I was a vendor at Cracked Pots Recycled Garden Art Festival, which takes place at The Edgefield in Troutdale, OR each summer. The grounds are filled with about 80 artists working with salvaged materials, and all items must be weatherproof. Last year was my first year, and I was shocked at how enthusiastic the crowd was. They came in droves, on two weekdays, and spent good money. I was excited to keep going each year, also because The Edgefield is a great place to stay, so it allows us to have a family vacation (though I am working most of the time.)

This past year, my time was absorbed by two large commissions, and I finished the major one in June, so I had little time to create smaller, affordable items for this festival. However, I did manage to pump out quite a few small things during the prior month, such as small pots, lanterns and garden plaques. These are more "craft" than "art" and are not the best use of my creative energy, but I hoped to come home with a nice deposit.

However, the crowd was much more conservative with their money this year. I sold about half the amount as the year before. People did not even buy many of the $20 items that I expected to sell out. I realized that, while I enjoy the festival, and the sales paid for the trip, I don't want to do more like it. I canceled on another recycled art festival in Eugene coming up later this month. By the time I paid for hotel and gas, I'd probably lose money, and I'd rather spend my time in other ways.

Since coming home, I've been focusing on mosaics that are high quality, with a lot of thought put into the design and execution. They are modest in size, but I am very pleased with the results so far. I'm working on a series titled "Memory of Ice" that will be an homage to the glaciers that sustain our planet, and which are in jeopardy at this time. I'm excited about my new work, and I feel fulfilled by it. So, I hope to find a high-end art festival to apply to, and hoping I will be accepted. It is a big investment. Booth fees are incredible, then there's the booth to put together, and all promo materials. But the pay off could be substantial.

Meanwhile, I have a meeting with a new pediatric office later in the month for an installation. I need to do a better job of self-promotion. It's a huge shortfall for me. I feel redirected right now, and I'm looking forward to getting out to the studio in a bit.

Tending the garden on the hottest day EVER!

2009-07-29T10:18:00.001-07:00

It has been one hot summer, and I'm trying not to freak out. Today is predicted to be the hottest day ever in the Pacific NW, over 100 degrees F. Day after day, we try to water the garden as much as possible early in the morning and after dusk, but many of the plants are still wilting. Our well runs out of water over and over throughout the day. We would take more showers to cool off, but water is scarce. I try to just spray myself down periodically while watering plants, and it helps a lot. Mike has been taking Anouk to town to enjoy air conditioned facilities.

We thought this would be the ideal place to live as the threat of climate change looms in the future. We are on high ground, but enjoy a diverse ecosystem. We are surrounded by creeks and rivers, and this area gets so much water all year. We are far enough inland to avoid the worst of raging storms, and far enough from local volcanoes that we would be fairly safe if one erupts. But this heat wave is an indication that we are not sufficiently prepared when it comes to our water. Our well is not deep enough. We can't afford to drill a new one right now, so we are brainstorming water storage. We want to find a tank that we can use to collect and store rainwater, at least for maintaining the animals and most vital plants, or for washing.

The animals seem to be weathering the heat pretty well. I'm tempted to set the goats free in the forest today, where they can forage and avoid the hot sun. Yesterday, I dunked the ferret in water occasionally, and put him in front of a fan. I keep reminding myself that people and animals live in places that frequently get this hot, and they are fine.

Meanwhile, the vegetables are ripening in full force, so that I can barely keep up with harvesting them and finding ways to use or preserve them. I think I will visit a neighbor later with a veggie delivery, and I'm planning to have a vegetable party soon so that people will come and eat a lot of our abundant food. I'd like to get some of it to the food bank, but I wish someone would make it easy by swinging by to pick it up, or even helping me to gather it. I know there are programs for that in some areas, set up by our new administration. There has to be a way to share the bounty with those who need it.

The computer is upstairs, and it is quickly becoming unbearably hot up here. Time to retreat to lower levels, and to check on the garden.

Introduction

2009-07-02T13:14:00.000-07:00

I've been keeping an online journal through my yahoo account, and it was mainly intended to keep non-local friends and family updated, since we live so far out of the way. Eventually, it became more of a place to share my efforts at creating a sustainable life in the country, and running a home-based art business. Yahoo recently made a change, and I don't care for it. So here I am.

My husband and I bought 5 acres in the country near Olympia, WA in 2002. We couldn't afford anything close to town and wanted enough space to grow our own food and own goats. This property had a 1970 mobile home and outbuildings, a mix of forest, pasture, and wetland with a 30-foot waterfall dropping down to a little creek, and the surroundings are beautiful. It's all farms and State forest.

That fall, I became pregnant. I thought I would keep my part-time job at The Evergreen State College and that my life wouldn't change all that much. We had my daughter in the mobile home, in a birthing tub with midwives and two great friends present. It soon became clear that a return to work would not be easy. We don't have any family or friends nearby, and I could not imagine dropping my baby off at a daycare. Besides, we couldn't afford it. My husband is a teacher, and we have been scraping by until recently. I tried to take her to work, nursing her in a sling during staff meetings, pacing with her when she cried, struggling to get her to sleep (which she never did.)

When a question came up about the college budget and my position, I left. I tried to find other work at first, and did work as a Visitation Supervisor, which is a flexible job. But it was incredibly hard to find places to leave my baby at different times and different days each week, and after expenses, I found I earned about $300 per month. It wasn't worth it.

Around the same time, I was asked to to my first mosaic installation for a restaurant in Olympia. And not long after that, I was chosen by a jury to be the featured artist for Olympia's Spring ArtsWalk. I had also signed up for a business workshop offered through Enterprise 4 Equity, which is a non-profit that helps low income people create an effective business plan. Things came together, and I began working full-time as an artist.

So we have a small "hobby farm" in the country where we are learning to grow our own food. We raise chickens for eggs and turkeys for meat. We have five Nigerian Dwarf Goats that we have tried to milk, but have given up. They are sweet and they eat our weeds. We also have 2 cats, 3 dogs and a ferret. The goal for this year is to learn to preserve the food we harvest. In the past, we have just frozen what we could.

I just completed my largest commission yet, for an elementary school in Seattle. It took me 9 months, and I really got sick of doing it, but I was very happy the other day to receive payment for the job. I'm making just enough for us to do extra things, and for my daughter to take gymnastics and swim classes.

My work has an environmental focus, so I sell mainly at recycled art fairs. I use mostly salvaged materials. My reputation and skill has been steadily growing, though I am always aware that I have far to go. I now teach workshops, which brings in additional extra money now and then.

I will continue to write about being a mosaic artist, the environment, and the experience of trying to live sustainably by using less energy, growing our food, and finding innovative ways to reduce and reuse.