Geology lesson

'Rialto Beach' series; oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner

'The observer, when he seems to himself to be observing a stone, is really, if physics is to be believed, observing the effects of the stone upon himself.'   Bernard Shaw

'A stone is ingrained with geological and historical memories.'  Andy Goldsworthy

'The finest workers of stone are not copper or steel tools, but the gentle touches of air and water working at their leisure with a liberal allowance of time.'   Henry David Thoreau

'But which is the stone that supports the bridge?'   Kublal Khan

'Leave no stone unturned.'   Euripides 

'The poets' scrolls will outlive monuments of stone. Genius survives, all else is claimed by death.'  Edmund Spenser 

'Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set.'  Frances Bacon

'Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice?'   William Butler Yeats

'What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.'   Pericles

Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.'  

  Richard Lovelace

'The first human who hurled an insult instead of a stone was the founder of civilization.'  Sigmund Freud

'Never treat anything you do as a stepping stone.  Do it fully, and follow it completely.'  Mira Nair

'Yosemite Valley, to me, is always a sunrise, a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of stone and space.'   Ansel Adams 

Bone food

Earrings; sterling and fine silver, calcite; Kathleen Faulkner

Once upon a time, while hiking up in the northern New Mexico mountains,  we came upon an old calcite mine.  It had been closed for years but the rock was scattered everywhere.  The sun, filtering through the trees, and a slight breeze made those rocks sparkle.

I felt like I was in a dream as I sat on the ground picking up pieces of rock.  The day, the sun, the smells of pine and pinion.. and all these beautiful stones sparkling like diamonds..

Calcite comes from the shells of dead marine organisms.  That means that at one time, long ago, that area in Northern New Mexico was ocean.  

Many things have come from those bones of the dead:  cement, limestone, marble, medicines, fertilizer and the most amazing of all:  lenses.  The now extinct trilobite used clear calcite crystals to form the lenses of their eyes.  

All that and more from shells.  

Imagine what we haven't discovered yet..  

what we don't know..

Paper Trail

'Paper Trail' necklace, 60" magazine paper,
sterling silver,  elastic; Kathleen Faulkner

Paper beads became popular in Victorian times.  Women in England would get together and make   beads by rolling wallpaper on knitting needles. They would then string the beads on long pieces of yarn to use as room dividers.  

As a child I would make paper beads for bracelets and necklaces. When thinking about what I would do for this show, I remembered those paper beads I used to make and thought it would be fun to revisit. 

This necklace, as well as 'Message in a Bottle', will be part of 'Re-Art' at Smith & Vallee Gallery, in conjunction with the Re-Store. The show runs from April 2nd through April 30th.

This should be a great show.  I'm looking forward to it.

For Japan

Please remember our Japanese friends who need our help:     

Artists for Japan  

Something's fishy

"Smelt" oil pastel, ink; 17x17" Kathleen Faulkner

The Edison Eye Gallery, in conjunction with Skagit Fisheries Enhancement Group, presents 

'Friends of the Fish'.  

The show runs from April 16th through May 1st with the usual 

wonderful opening on April 16th, 6 till 10pm.  

I heard from a very reliable source that this show is going to be Good!  60 artists are participating and Dana is in a very good mood.  

'Edison Eye' photo; Kathleen Faulkner

An important message:

'Message in a Bottle' 36' found objects, poem by Gary
Snyder, sterling silver; Kathleen Faulkner

An owl winks in the shadows

A lizard lifts on tiptoe, breathing hard

Young male sparrow stretches up his neck,

big head, watching-

The grasses are working in the sun. Turn it green.

Turn it sweet.  That we may eat.

Grow our meat.

Brazil says "sovereign use of Natural Resources"

Thirty thousand kinds of unknown plants.

The living actual people of the jungle

sold and tortured'

And a robot in a suit who peddles a delusion called 'Brazil"

can speak for them?

The whales turn and glisten plunge

and sound and rise again

Hanging over subtly darkening deeps

Flowing like breathing planets 

in the sparkling whorls of 

living light-

And Japan quibbles for words on

what kinds of whales they can kill?

A once-great Buddhist nation

dribbles methyl mercury 

like gonorrhea

in the sea.

Pere David's Deer, the Elaphure,

lived in the tule marshes of the Yellow River

Two thousand years ago - and lost it's home to rice-

The forests of Lo - yang were logged and all the silt and

sand flowed down,

and gone, by 1200 AD -

Wild geese hatched out of Siberia

head south over basins of the Yang, the Huang,

What we call "China"

On flyways they have used a million years.

Ah China, where are the tigers, the wild boars,

the monkeys,

like the snows of yesteryear

Gone in a mist, a flash, and the dry hard ground

Is parking space for fifty thousand trucks.

Is man most precious of all things?

- then let us love him, and his brothers, all those

Fading living beings -

North America, Turtle Island, taken by invaders

who wage war around the world.

May ants, may abalone, otters, wolves and elk

Rise! and pull away their giving 

from the robot nations.

Solidarity. The People

Standing Tree People!

Flying Bird People!

Swimming Sea People!

Four-legged, two-legged people!

How can the head-heavy power-hungry politic scientist

Government two-world Capitalist-Imperialist

Third-world Communist paper-shuffling make

non-farmer jet-set bureaucrats

Speak for the green of the leaf? Speak for the soil?

(Ah Margaret Mead... do you sometimes dream of Samoa?)

The robots argue how to parcel out Mother Earth

To last a little longer

like vultures flapping

Belching, gurgling,

near a dying doe.

"In yonder field a slain knight lies-

We'll fly to him and eat his eyes

with a down

derry derry derry down down."

An Owl winks in the shadow

A lizard lifts on tiptoe

breathing hard

The whales turn and glisten

plunge and

Sound, and rise again

Flowing like breathing planets

In the sparkling whorls

Of living light.     

                                                                  'Mother Earth:  Her Whales'

                                                                                     by Gary Snyder

'Life is short, the Art long'

Somewhere between LaConner and Stanwood; Kathleen Faulkner

I started with a plan.  I would visit LaConner first, head over to Camano Island and then, finish the day in Edison.  An afternoon and evening of adventure and visual enjoyment.

As I walked toward the gallery I knew this show would be good.  Looking around at all the images I was reminded of the recipe for a good exhibit:  that the whole equals more than the sum of it's parts.  This small gallery filled with black and white photographs of the art history of the Magic Skagit: very Large and very Powerful.. 

Truly a sight to behold.

As I left I knew I would be back to look again.

Camano Island is long and narrow.  The next gallery I was headed to is at the south end of that island.  I had never been before.  It was a beautiful drive, a Beautiful gallery and a beautiful show.  I felt honored to be a part of this group, showing in this fabulous gallery. 

Wondering around in the sculpture garden, impressed to death, I decided to name the place, "Artland in the Woods". 

It is good to find some magic.

The last call was in Edison.  I love that town.  I always look forward to spending time there.  

The opening was packed, the artwork stunning, the conversation stimulating.   

An unknown,  a 'phantom' as Dana calls him..  a one man show of outrageously good work.  I imagine he won't be unknown for long.. 

It was a good plan.  It worked quite well.  It was one of the best 'art for your soul' days I've had for a long, long time.

Somewhere near Edison; Kathleen Faulkner

Greetings from Birdsville

'The Return' oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner

The geese have returned:  a highlight of late winter. 

February was a cold, snowy month, the way I used to remember it as a child.  Indians named February's full moon the Snow Moon because of all the snow that would arrive.   It's hard to know if this is unusual now or not.

The eagles are down in the valley waiting for food.  I have seen more birds than ever lately.  Ducks, hawks, eagles, swans, geese, and on and on.

It is a wonderful thing!

Adult and immature eagles near Edison;

Another angle..

Everything is wet, cold and beautiful   It is good to live here.

looking northeast toward Mt Baker..