Showing posts with label solstice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label solstice. Show all posts

Thursday, June 20, 2024

Summer Solstice Story... 2024

 
Emerging again from the burning roots of Solstice

MAKER RENEWS 

Feeling accumulated warmth...

  Tasting fecundity in deep rich seasonal air...

 
 
Testing possibilities... 

A new surge of life...

Contemplating a maturation in creativity!




Photo Essay by Mark Milroy & Gordon R Barnett


A friend & neighbor on Vashon Island, Mark Milroy, is a fine photographer. In 2021 he proposed making a shoot of me in the old Big-Leaf Maple which had quite a history hanging-out over our Soundcliff's parking-pad -- offering both dangers and protections inside her delicate cavernous core. He envisioned posing me nude in this tree. 
 
I accepted what was a bit of a challenge. I am not particularly shy... loving hot tubs & bath houses; having a lifetime's history of nude beaches, Faerie Gatherings & skinny tripping with friends in the waters of Oak Creek. I've known innumerable life-drawing sessions with nude models of all genders & I've even modeled in several groups where we exchanged roles as artist & model.

Even-so, this is another sort of "coming out" for me... publishing myself here!






Thursday, December 27, 2018

HOLIDAY GARDEN [APRES CHRISTMAS] 2018...

 I am digging back into the studio after the holidays, 
as seen with the pile of garden cuttings 
impulsively spray-painted 
silver, for a decorative "arrangement" now languishing 
while I ponder being safely rid of the leavings...
T'won't compost & probably ought not to be burned. 
I did not think that one out very well...
Solstice has long been the heart-fully factual event for us. 
This year we attended a lively party with a large group of
 good friends... Enjoying much fine conversation! 

On our way home we walked the path around a large pond 
where one Islander gifted the night's magic... 
a millennia of flames... luminaria 
flickering harmony with misty light of full moon! 
Then home to our own lamps for a long recuperative sleep!
Thus Christmas was happily celebrated quietly. Just the two of us at home here at Soundcliff... a very rare thing! The first time in many years that we have not been traveling, either to spend time with family... or seeking to avoid any additional rush of festivities after the period when the Island's Studio Tour absorbs so much of the calendar with the hard work of cleaning & preparing for two intense weekends of "showtime"... ringing in, ringing out & ringing up the bells' business!

We've tried escaping to various parts of the Orient, only to discover the universality of Santa & various versions of decorated trees, even if oftentimes they are more entertaining than in this country. So it is probably easiest to just sit tight & ignore the fuss where we have the most control! 

Our weather, while quite wet, has been mild, so the garden has continued to produce & bloom. I picked greens & salads for the meals to which we treated ourselves. Stephen made a big batch of his specialty crab cakes. There was fresh salmon & ahi for the succession of nights... sweet times!
The reliable gift of produce in this season is Mashua, the starch crop I've grown since learning about it at the Mother Garden in Sonoma County, when I lived in northern California 25 years ago. The abundant foliage climbs high all summer, giving its spicy nasturtium zip as addition to salads, but in late autumn it develops happy blossoms, signaling that its roots are making the tubers for which it is generally raised by the Peruvian gardeners who more famously gave us potatoes.
 
These beautiful organic packages of intense flavor can be eaten raw... I like them thin sliced like winter "radishes" to make toothsome crispy zippity-do-da salad nibbles... 
but are more usually served as a cooked vegetable. Sauteed or better roasted, 
both the flavor & texture soften & sweeten rather ephemerally.


 The hexagonal raised bed produced Trout's Back lettuces & Baby Bok Choy...
The Wasabi Arugula blossoms went in the salad to accompany the Ahi well!
Pineapple Sage blossoms color holiday salads festive...
The small Camellia started blooming to add more red to our view.
One stalwart patch of pansies held-on!
 I brought the Abutilon into the studio to protect 
& display its bell-inspiration during the show...
But this fuchsia made a lovely small show 
spiting difficulties from lack of light & temperature.
I've been celebrating the small mountain of cedar sawdust which covers the new hugelkulture Tom helped build during a week of Indian summer... an experiment in re-sculpting the contour of one large section of the garden from "sagging swale" into a more visually sturdy "rib". A long term project!
Reminding the sweet welcome in/out my plane window as we came home from Thanksgiving in Florida. Tahoma is our beautiful mother mountain... we watch her from Soundcliff's windows every day she isn't hiding in the clouds with which she dresses for her constantly evolving fashion!
These Ibis & Pelicans joined us for lunch at a dockside restaurant one afternoon down there...
Reminding me of the sculpture hiding silhouetted behind the mylar sheet we use as a sun shade in our bedroom window... not needed often during this dark time, but useful when we are journaling & reading on rare enough mornings desiring celebration of any such intrusions of light returning!
Early Bird Blessings For this New Year!

Monday, December 24, 2018

AFTER WINTER SOLSTICE - 2018...

Sunrise at Soundcliff on the morning after the longest night...
Greetings on the Winter Solstice of 2018…

Solstice is THE holiday for me. A day as “HOLY” as I can easily accept… being quite real. The physical manifestation of whatever genuine magic keeps the world from tilting totally out of control.

A moment in the rhythmic continuity of everything 
we can really know marks this seasonal symbolic loss of light & of its return. 
All the other festivities of culture begin with this. I could too easily whisper “amen” & be done with the rest. 
But, no, I realize that I can choose better... 

Working inside the wider study & understanding I’ve long practiced I appreciate again that I am not always the same curmudgeon I have sometimes seemed this year. 
I have my moments, teetering on this cusp, of both snarl & smile.

I have been remembering a story which reveals part of the origins of that curmudgeon, from the year of my graduating from college [being summer1967… 50 & more years ago], when I accepted a job to help set-up the first-ever year-round Christmas Shoppe in Denver’s newly developing Larimer Square. 

I was one of a cadre of creatives [read: mostly gay boys] who naturally collected around this project of wrangling Denver’s version of retail rehabilitation by bringing gifts of talent which were essential & appreciated while being un-affordable & thus ultimately under-rewarded in the longer term… An economic fable commonly called “gentrification”…

We began in August, as I recall, to unpack hundreds of cartons containing dozens of artificial trees, upon which we carefully strung hundreds of strings of lights & then hung with thousands of ornaments. 

For some trees there were obvious “themes” or color scenes to follow with some logic, but others invited the invention at which we could excel when given opportunity to play creatively as a fair-or-not part of the pay package. It was, after all, the summer of love... 

The initial Ho-Ho-Ho enthusiasm we brought to work at this new adventure, wearing cut-offs to cope with summer heat in an old historic brick building with no AC, began to drag. Soon enough, the plastic icicles were being hung with matching drips of sweat. The fake snow couldn’t cool anything except one’s sagging ardor. The scent of the holidays became the rank smell of hot glittery paint on cheap wood, hide glue & ageing papier-mâché. What would later seem festive to eager customers had become too early rather icky. 

I thus lost most any love of Christmas as it was becoming, even then, to be celebrated & it took some years until I could think of the holidays without noticing that stink… which, at least symbolically, still returns to my nostrils some years.

So, I have done several versions of these holidays backstage, so to speak, in retail since the small-town department store I worked during high school, through the Ma-and-Pa jewelry store so important to me during college… into the folly of Christmas-in-July.

I deserve my status as part time curmudgeon! 

The anodyne to what I’ve come to see mostly as a madness is this simply magical re-occurrence of a long night of adjustment into proof of sanity. Balance. All has righted itself. Life continues anew. 

I can now rather more easily let all the ancillary feasts carry-on as they might & need. I play with them as I will… or not. I know what is real to me.

Solstice Blessings, 
With Bells... or without even those such trappings…
GRB


Tuesday, December 21, 2010

TIME FRACTURED... SOLSTICE...




[CLICK & CLICK AGAIN ON THE PHOTOS TO ENLARGE THEM]

An accident occurring just two days before the Open Studio saw the door, which would soon need to welcome our visitors, broken into a million-pieced jigsaw puzzle... giving my camera's eye some wild visuals... while being accompanied by a curious soundtrack of crackling pings & tinkles which went on for several hours as the tempered glass continued its slow disintegration. It held in its suspension of gravity for most of a day before falling into a fine mess needing careful attention toward clean-up!



But for those hours I enjoyed views seeming quite decorative & festive, even inside the frustration of a difficult situation. I was sad when I opened it one time too many for its fragile state... as it fell into a heap of sparkling shards. I'd wanted to make even more photographs, although you might not want so many as even these!

Fortunately the inside pane was intact because it wouldn't get replaced until Solstice Eve. The door functioned fine during the two weekends of the event, which was slower than I had hoped, due to weather matching that adventure. Yet, in the end, we wrote a respectable business even so. The bells do love ringing their role as holiday treats!



This self-portrait suggests my own fracturing during this busy time... holding on while letting go.



While our weather was too overcast to view last night's rare Solstice eclipse... this morning's dawn was happily dramatic. A great beginning of the new year!


Solstice is the real deal of this season, as I've noted for many years. Test-able... as the light seems already to be changing, if simply because the gallop toward shorter days has reached its ultimate exhaustion. While the pace in their lengthening will not seem quick enough I love the turning toward the light which this... the real holiday... promises.

I am exhausted in tandem... the season in the studio is mostly finished. Christmas always seems a bit anti-climatic to me & our New Year is a tardy event waiting for the calendar to catch up with the astronomical fact.

While I remember years ago having a studio rush well into Christmas Eve... selling gold earrings to guys shopping last minute presents for their ladies, while I poured liberal shots of brandy to lubricate easier choices...

These days my clientele has it already wrapped up... Hurrah!

So I am holding the day in peace & quiet, sending those qualities to all who appreciate its inherent joy! Our Lady Tahoma, seen here several evenings ago, is a fine teacher of such sentiment... I never tire of her lessons. Perhaps she offers wisdom even at distance...



Saturday, June 21, 2008

SOLSTICE SOUNDCLIFF GARDEN...



Our first day of summer is typically overcast. Nonetheless, that light allowed color to glow from the lush growth in our garden. While there are plenty of neglected spots & even some substantial weed patches, my camera found views which celebrate the results of the cool & rainy days of our lingering spring weather.

The work of polishing out the new bell masters & molding them for production has kept me in deep nocturnal mode for recent weeks, so I have not gardened so much as I would wish. But I have been working to distribute more of the compost we've had delivered.

Our south lawn is shady, a composition of textures in numerous greens...



The Acanthus, or "Bear's Britches" has become an annual stalwart inhabiting that part of the garden. Its sturdy spikes are beginning to reach sunward...





Like the Lady's Mantle above the greens begin to give way to other hues. The spots on this plant for which I do not know a name, hint to remind me that it later sends up delicate spikes with small red flower balls. We are learning that the St. John's Wort we appreciate for its lively beauty of red & yellow blossoms-becoming-berries is also good for holding slopes, so we are transplanting the seedlings down on our lower reaches..





An area beneath the window over my wax desk seems like a small fireworks display... energetically sending sparks of healing blessings toward nephew David, [read about that in Stephen's blog here] for whom Stephen planted the Dianthus inside a bed already blooming with Lavatera, Allium, Peony, among others... plus a seeding bunch of Festuca grass!





The Allium is such intriguing sculpture...



The north yard is more open... sunnier for the food crops in the four raised beds & adjacent borders. The new deck sits on the edge.


The circle in the lawn is the bed of Roman chamomile which began as a cover for our cat Gertie's grave, which I've been keeping groomed & will soon cut a spiral out of it to plant more area. We love this sturdy ground cover for a story at the beginning of our acquaintance & I intend to replace large portions of the lawn with its fragrant softness...



The raised bed with a trellis is planted with snow peas, lettuce & a cabbage. It also supports several wind chimes, one a Paolo Soleri bell my parents gave me when they closed their house in Monument, Colorado.


The Cardoon, which is an artichoke's cousin, got tucked too closely between two Rhodies several years ago... I tried to move it, but too late, I'm afraid it has settled where it is. It is raising itself even taller in bloom this year, like the Mustard I am letting develop seed to save for planting later. It's obviously being a fine year for foxglove [digitalis]; there is an entire meadow of it nearby!




I'm also saving seed on both colors of Swiss chard that fed us over last winter. Their stalks are gorgeous structures...



A smoke bush gives the north border the wildest coloration combining deep silvery purples with orange accents, particularly on the undersides of the leaves!



A simply sweet small old variety of rose & the white papery Cistus also live nearby.


A Calla lily floats in the space beneath a Fuchsia...



Something newly fuzzy, a "goatsbeard" which Stephen brought home last week, is planted in front of a Hosta.



The birdhouse in the apricot tree housed a family of chickadees this spring, keeping the parents busy! I had hoped to see the young ones learn to fly, but that probably happened while I slept one morning after a nocturnal work session...



This year's big project has been the new garden on the clay slope north of Stephen's writing cottage, his Forge. It had been our typical clay, packed by the equipment which did the retaining wall a year ago. Steven Shaun helped me build the zig-zagging gravel path from which we could begin working organic material into that density to build tilth. I had a load of okara delivered, since it is a free resource from our local Island Spring Tofu factory. The material, derived from soybeans, is like wet sawdust. It seemed ideal for this project, but it does have some drawbacks... it can smell! We covered it with compost before the Open Studio to mask that increasing odor, since it did not have any opportunity to dry out in our weather. Even now I am only gingerly beginning to fork it up to add more mulch into some of the deeper areas of those new beds... I believe it is a good material -- I just wish it were more pleasant!



The result of all that process has been pleasing to watch as the plants we'd been collecting over several years in pots or temporary spots during that period of upset on our cliff settle into their new places, taking off better than could be expected.



The Lacinata kale plants which had been growing in one of the raised beds took up residence & have mostly tripled in growth! They are wonderful food, especially during the cold winter months, & can perennialize for 3-4 years in this climate, building meandering trunks & huge inflourescences of yellow blossoms.











The last of the iris dance with several white digitalis above a row of Sedum which also will live in their temporary spot for another year... there just was not enough gardening time between the rains to accomplish soil building in time to plant... There IS Always Next Year!



The next couple shots were made several weeks ago, when the Siberian iris were at their prime against a rhododendron.





This rainbow last week was the flattest one I'd ever seen... a rainstorm traveled through it as I watched...



Tahoma then came out to say her bon soir with the pink backlight of sunset...