I’m giving up teaching my yoga class. I’ve had to cancel so many times this year, most of those related to caring for Mom. Some due to the car accident last year. It hurts so much to give up the thing that brings light and joy at the end of a stressful week. Teaching centers me in a way like no other Practice.

So off I go into Thursday, thinking merely, “At least the week is nearly done.”

There were finally some successes with the work stuff. That and some ongoing respect for me as a profession from the consultant has gone a long way toward making this grueling effort bearable.

I stopped at the market to pick us up dinner, “Hot Woks”, and get fresh flowers. I’d been informed that this market, easy to get to on the way home from my office, gets fresh flowers every Thursday. Fresh flowers around the house is an indulgence that I so enjoy.

Today I picked out a few things to be wrapped together, having them hold the bundle while I got dinner. When I came back out one of the women who works there held out two more bundles of roses to me. They are a little browned on the outer petals, but otherwise still fresh. Being slightly faded, they were going to be tossed away. I laughed in delight and surprise, saying of course I’d love more flowers!

Only Slightly Faded Roses – June 6, 2013 – Portland, Oregon

Bemused at this lovely gift in my day I arrived home to discover another gift. The lovely man who maintains our landscaping built a fountain in the pond today!

Simple Stones and Water – June 6, 2013 – Portland, Oregon

A fountain! It is an amazing gift. He knew I’d wanted to do a water feature to help move the water, getting more air in, and also have the wonderful sound of it. The water sound would help mask the sound of the freeway in the distance.

Now we have one. He has a Kwan Yin he’s adding to adorn the top stone.

Native Irises – May 13, 2013 – Wilsonville, OR

Spring brings irises.
Each rising from the water.
Golden miracles.

It has been hard this past several weeks. Igal’s death has been a dark pall over the bright flowers of spring. I was really quietly pleased that despite the grief, anxiety, PTSD triggers, illness, exhaustion and busyness of April, I still managed to put together 30 poems in 30 days.

In the cleaning, sorting, distributing, and dealing with Igal’s apartments, which his closest friends took on, some of his things were sent to, or set aside for people. I helped in the initial days, the apartment was easier to deal with than the meetings to plan his memorial. In the final days our friends decided some things should be brought to us.

Japanese ceramics, a collection that seems to have no theme beyond being pleasing to Igal at some time has been brought to CK and I. I look forward to serving festive dishes, particularly Japanese ones, on these beautiful dishes. At future Thanksgiving dinners it will give me a way of continuing to include Igal, despite his being gone from this life.

Igal’s Lovely Japanese Dishes

In January, when I’d decided to attend the workshop, I had so looked forward to discussing my ideas about it with Igal. He had encouraged me to explore using acrylic medium for my artwork. At one of our infrequent, but wonderful Art at Koehler Haus days, Igal sat with me and shared his acrylics to help me learn how to use them.

Another gift of our friends was a decision to bring Igal’s art supplies to us. Today I had Igal with me; I brought his paint box with me to class and used many of his acrylic paints and glaze in the start of my project today. I am so humbled that our friends thought these things should come to me.

Beginning the Workshop, with Igal’s paint box.

I was so nervous this morning before heading to the workshop. All the usual feelings of inadequacy, of “pretending” at art.  CK gave me a kiss before leaving, encouraging me.

Our instructor, Seth Apter, was great. He immediately assured us that we would most likely not finish! Such a relied to be assured that 54 small collage pieces was a tall order indeed!

We quickly got to work on applying black gesso to all 52 playing cards and a piece for the front, another for the back.

Gesso Down!

He reminded us right away to not forget to work on the cover and back pieces, on book board, pieces in addition to the 52 playing cards. The black and the beauty of metallic, gold acrylic inspired me to create a small Enso. I will admit that it felt really very good when Seth complimented it, showing it to the other workshop participants, and recognizing it as an Enso.

Cover with Enso

Next we were encourage to apply some layers, at least one, of acrylic paint. My colors were all fairly rich and dark, against the black gesso they mostly implied a suggestion of color, which was pretty lovely.

Layers of Acrylic Paint Over Gesso

Then we were to set aside one side for adding text. Eventually my book will have poems by Hafiz and Rumi appearing on these pages. To the other side we received instruction on how to mix the acrylic paint with glaze to make sheer, translucent layers of color over the black gesso.

Layers and Layers of Acrylic Glaze

Next  came time to apply collage layers. Here’s where I felt a little lost. I’d thought I’d seen the boxes of paper and emphera I’ve collected these past handful of years, but I only found the small box of the smallest scraps. Given that we’re altering playing cards, it was really just fine, but I still wish I’d found my awesome paper stash!

Next Step, Collage!

All too soon the workshop was over! I am only a quarter or a third of the way done! I really can’t wait to get my office fully together, my chair out the box, so I can create!

Just Barely Begun!

Today is all “wrapped up” and I’m already thinking about making a book of Mary Oliver poetry in this form. I’m also really intrigued by Seth’s inspiration for this workshop; making one card a week for an entire year. Seems like a great way to combine collage, altered art and haiku into a project.

Hafiz / Rumi Altered Playing Card Book – Day One

Swirls of Pollen – April 29, 2013 – Portland, OR

Heron still, watching.
Hoping to glimpse hiding fish.
Pollen swirls, ripples.

Rusty Heron – April 29, 2013 – Portland, OR

Spring comes in with
Small bursts of color.
Snowdrops give way
To crocus, which greet
The sweetness of the daphne.
Days grow longer,
Warmer and soon
The world is bursting
In colors from the camellias,
The blaze of azalea, and bright
Torches of rhododendron.
Not to be out done, the
Leaves put on new, bright
Green and ferns uncoil
From the moist earth.

Frog Swimming – April 26, 2013 – Wilsonville, OR

With a plop
I turn to see
A frog surface,
Then glide.

All around the
Shallows there
Are great numbers
Of tiny fish
And tadpoles,
Frogs-to-be,
Rushing from my
Great shadow.

Other poets have
Described it better,
Yet still, that “plop”
Of a the frog surfacing,
Inspired poets anew
Each spring.

**Here’s Bashō’s haiku about ponds and frogs, as translated by Alan Watts:

The old pond,
A frog jumps in:
Plop!

Advice I – April 14, 2013 – Portland, OR

Here we find one another.

Still breathing in
And laughter still
Rising to the surface.

Yes, there remain
Sharp, narrow places
Between many of
The breaths.
(most of the breaths)
Exhalations expressing
Out in sighs.

There is also the
Sense of having
Arrived.
Not where, exactly.
Just the feeling
Of having made
It through.

Reminded
That the Buddha
Assures us
There is a way,
But reminds that
The going can
Be hard.

Sakura Clouds – April 25, 2013 – Wilsonville, OR

Clouds of sakura.
Delicate petals drifting.
Softest, sweetest snow.

Old School – April 25, 2013 – Portland, OR

Not sure why there aren’t moon-viewing gatherings in the spring, perhaps the weather is less likely to be lovely as it is in autumn. Our new deck is perfect for watching the moon rise and track across the sky. Clearly an autumn party will need to be planned for.

April Moon – April 25, 2013 – Portland, OR

The text of the haiku, if it is too hard to read the tiny picture of it:

Bunny hopping up.
Golden Spring moonrise above.
I gaze in delight.

Heart Seeds – April 23, 2013 – Portland, OR

Even as
New flowers turn
Bright, petal faces
Toward the sun
Seeds are falling
Along with the
Faded cherry blossoms.
A kind of flurry
Of change that
Flutters by me
As I stroll past.