A Walking Retreat

More pictures than words this post

This beautiful image is from a walking retreat I took a week and a half ago.

I recently joined a women's business group and met Helen, one of the members.  She gave out flyers at our last meeting about walking retreats she leads.  This one sounded wonderful and fit in my schedule.  So on Saturday I headed out to Nickerson State Park to "step into my dream life!"  Helen led our group of 3 women.

In the background of this photo you can see another pond, 

that's where we started, about 5 minutes apart so it was a solitary walk.

 Our journey began as we stepped onto the path.

 It was so beautiful and quiet.

Our instructions were to notice our surroundings with all our senses.

We stopped by this pond to write about what ideas and thoughts had come to us on our walk.

I've been thinking about my challenges making art this summer.

This particular walk was perfect.  The trees, plants, terrain reminded me of forest trails at summer camp, backpacking in The Sierra.  All getting me in touch with my younger self who wanted to be an artist and could see my whole life stretch ahead of me

Back on the path.

We could choose to walk alone or with the others.

I choose to walk alone.

 

 We stopped again at another pond for more reflection

and to write a letter to ourselves reminding us of the insights we had gained.

I think art should be as easy as breathing!

So, what stands in the way?

  I loved the discussion and am so grateful for the input of these 3 women that day!

Back on the path again,

We headed back to our trailhead and the end of the retreat.

What a perfect morning.

I walked in a beautiful setting.

The company was inspiring.

And I have been able to put into practice some of the ideas shared with me.

I can't wait for next Spring when Helen will do this again.

Information on Helen's retreats

I Have A Dream

It is the 50th Anniversary of

 The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom

August 28, 1963

There was more than one noteworthy speech. 

John Lewis, 

representing the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee had prepared a fiery speech.  It was passionate, demanding, impatient as young people always are in the face of injustice.  It was toned down at the request of Dr. King, but you can hear it read as it was originally written.

Martin Luther King, Jr was introduced as the moral leader of our country.  

He then gave a speech which changed lives.  It is beautiful, passionate, powerful, and hopeful.  It looks to the future.  It is also honest in stating the injustices that must be addressed.  Some of his dreams have become reality, some have not.  And it is our responsibility as citizens of this rather amazing country to listen to his dreams, make them our own and keep working to bring freedom to every citizen.

Facts you might not know

The Speech

Pretty Pillowcases

 Pair of Cotton Pillowcases

White machine embroidery & eyelet

White lace trim

 Center Medallion

 Side Medallion

 Pair of Cotton Pillowcases

Pale Blue machine embroidery

Scallop border

 Center Design

Side Design

The pillowcases are both white.  The bottom case looks a bit blue in the photograph, but that's just the way it photographed.

poeme

I'm afraid most of my posts for the past year have all been in my head!

Composed in the shower . . .

Driving in the car . . .

Wandering around my studio . . .

I think of brilliant things to write, 

Telling what is happening with me.

Or witty observations on life.

They just haven't made it out of my head.

Trusted Friends have been very encouraging, loving the stories & photos! 

Comments from visitors here inspire me.

I want to connect to the world out there.

I wish to share my active inner life,

Make ART,

Encourage creativity,

Teach.

All the support in the world can't move me,

Until I follow Nike's brilliant admonition:

Just do it!

It's all well and good to have imagination,

To dream of living in another country,

To plan grand art pieces.

Its even better to put myself out there.

To post when I have no artwork to show . . .

No travel details to share . . .

No clever stories of family or garden.

So today I just write!

Pink Saturday in My Garden

Honestly, my garden is mostly shades of lavender, yellow and green . . .
but I found a few pink blossoms to share.

 This beautiful rose starts off pink, then fades to cream with just a hint of pink at the end of its petals.

Rescued by my son from the compost pile at the garden center where he worked,

it reminds me that given enough love, water and sunshine we all can bloom!

 These lavender buds will turn pink in a few weeks.

 My son's secret corner of the cottage garden beds.

Ice Plant and Franklin.

 Pinchusion

The bees happily forage these blooms.

Bee Balm

The low growing variety has just started to push blooms.

No garden of mine or my son's would be complete without succulents.

The Hen and Chicks were moved at the end of last summer

and have been happily growing and throwing off lots of "chicks."

I didn't know they bloomed, and pink no less.  Cool!

Enjoy your weekend and visit Bev's blog How Sweet The Sound to catch up with the pink doings of a few of her friends!

Old Friends

 photo courtesy of simonandgarfunkel.com

To listen to "Old Friends," click here

70 still seems terribly strange, but I'm closer than I was when the album came out.  And today, just like at the tender age of 17, I know how wonderful it is to have old friends. I have a group of friends, women I have known 10, 20, 30, 40 + years who sustain me and support me.  They have become part of my family.  Some of them even remember my grandma & nana, two very different women who both encouraged my creativity and love of beautiful things and used to tell me I could do anything I wanted to do, be anyone I wanted to be.

My daughter's best friend does not like making new friends.  I, on the other hand, LOVE making new friends.  I made some new friends this very afternoon.  I went over to my favorite sandwich shop for lunch.  Close to where I parked my car there was an El Monte-brand RV, with California plates.  How could I not go over and say hi?  Turns out they had rented the RV in New Jersey and are themselves from the London, England suburbs.  They were actually delighted to make my acquaintance.  We ended up having lunch together, talking about their kids, my kids, music, how much they love Cape Cod, how delightful France is and a bit about our travels.  We exchanged email addresses.  We hugged good-bye and they drove off to visit P-town for the day.

I drove home and decided to tackle the stuff I am having so much trouble with lately -- I've been struggling with almost everything relating to my creativity.  What to do with the barn:  shop or studio or some combination?  What to do with my blog -- who am I writing it for?  How to get past this odd artists' block I have, where I have tons of ideas but can't get the ideas out of my head and into a piece of art.  I'm tackling the blog first -- writing it for this wonderful group of women, my old friends.  I know who they are, I can visualize their responses, and I have years of experience writing to each of them individually.  The best part of that decision is I don't feel the need to explain every little thing.  That was always the part of my blog that sounded so ponderous to me!  To my old friends, I love you dearly.  To my new friends, I'm delighted you've visited.  I hope you will join me regularly on this ride. 

Here is not the stopping point . . .

 
. . . and that is what I realized a couple days ago.  I woke early with a real sense of dread -- like someone needed my help.  So I do what I always do in those circumstances -- I checked to make sure my son was breathing (he was home visiting), I called my daughter and tried not to sound frantic and asked her to call me back, and I began to pray.  Maybe prayer should have been first!  I also called a friend to pray with me.  It came to me to examine the term "stop" from a more spiritual basis.

Over the years things have happened and I have been stopped.  I will be going along and something happens, or a friend says something/tries to define me in ways I don't agree with, I won't correct them and wham!  It's like what runners describe as hitting the wall.  It's debilitating.  I've been feeling stopped lately.  A friend did recently define me in ways I didn't agree with.  A blog friend has stopped talking with me (and the awful thing is I don't know why, which really condemns me as a terrible person.  I mean, how can you tick someone off so much and not know what you did?).  A couple months ago neighbors let me know in no uncertain terms that I am the most selfish person they have ever known.  I know this last one isn't really true, but they did hammer on for more than 30 minutes and even called me back to share more of my faults with me.  And I thought we were friends. *sigh*   Humanly, this hasn't been a very good Spring!

 In the garden it's been a great Spring!

So when the call to prayer came, the topic of stopping seemed a good one to explore.  I found these ideas useful:  

Goodness and philanthropy begin with work and never stop working.

Our thoughts beget our actions; they make us what we are.

A deep sincerity is sure of success, for God takes care of it. 

I finished up the day feeling at peace.  I still don't know who needed my help that day.   I always think if I haven't had some big AH HA realization then nothing has happened/changed.  But I look around my life and notice the things I am doing again:  the worktables in my studio are now clear (and I know Sudsy Muffin did not come in while I was asleep); I'm gathering things to sell next weekend at the flea market; I water the kitchen garden my son planted for me, it hasn't died; I went to the movies; I wrote this post!

This is not my original work, I copied this from another blog, but I can't remember where or when.

No copyright infringement is intended.  Thanks for the fish!