Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birds. Show all posts

Monday, November 25, 2024

*Sea Pie

'Poser' 12x12" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner
 

That place at Washington Park...

It is a curve in the road. 
Over to the side,
the stairs head downward
rocky beach to the left
flat rocks to the right.

If you are lucky,
you may spot a few 
Oystercatchers 
hanging out on those 
flat rocks.


*Sea Pie,  shortened for Sea Magpie, is the original name of Oystercatcher. 







Friday, December 30, 2022

Cheers!

'Hopeful Hanna' 10x10" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner
 
2022
I am grateful for the opportunities that I have received.
I am sharing some highlights with you.

April was a banner month:
 'Craft Island', an oil pastel, was accepted into the permanent collection at the Museum of Northwest Art in LaConner. 

My ring, 'Apartment Complexity' was published in Metalsmith magazine.

Two works, an oil and oil pastel,  'Almost Home' and East of Here' were loaned to the American Embassy in Pristina, Kosovo.

Then, September offered me a spot in a show to start out the new year
 at Harris Harvey Gallery in Seattle  

December came with the honor of having my work represented on the kiosk at the entry to Dog Woods, Guemes Island.

Despite my good fortune, this year had it's challenges 
yet I am grateful for every moment!

I am hopeful for the future.

Here's to a new year of wonderful possibilities
and a wish 
May we become the people that
make this world a better place for all
living beings.






Thursday, January 13, 2022

Sing a song

 Song Sparrow 10x10" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner


    Let's just say I know 
    because
    a little bird told me.




    Wednesday, September 22, 2021

    The Innocents

    'My Kingdom for a Home' 29x24" graphite on paper;  
    Kathleen Faulkner

    It's been a time

    of political turmoil 
    and a pandemic that is ongoing

    add a mix of
    fear, unrest, and uncertainty.. 

    I'm concentrating on my
    non human friends.



     

    Thursday, January 23, 2020

    Junco junction

    'Anne's Feeder' 10x10"oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

    I watch the birds
    eat at Anne's feeder.

    I look past the feeder at the tree behind
    The leaves are gone now
    replaced with juncos
    waiting their turn.





    Saturday, February 3, 2018

    wild animals don't really like humans

    'Ready'  16x16" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

     I see him on my walk.   

    Sometimes I watch him from a distance
    doing his work

    Mostly though,
     he sees me and readies for flight
    thinking about safety.

    I come too close 
    Then he's gone. 




     

    Thursday, January 19, 2017

    a day in the life

    'A Day in the Life' 12x12" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner
    .
    It is early. 
    Fog horns sound in the distance.

    Hawk lands on a pole and
    surveys the field
    planning her strategy for the morning kill.

    It's a daily thing.



    Wednesday, August 10, 2016

    A tradition


     STEAMROLLER Printmaking, 2016 has now come and gone. 
    It has been an Anacortes Arts Festival event in 2011, 2012, 2015 and 2016.

    It's becoming a tradition 

    silk ready to lift off lino, Kathleen Faulkner
     
    Printing a 3x4' linoleum block is not easy.  

    This year we worked with white silk.  Wind was a factor but:
    Three days, ten artists and volunteers per day
    and good teamwork got the job done!



    My print, 'Baker's Dozen' 4x3' woodblock ink on linoleum,  printed on silk.  In the background: Dee Doyle's two herons print;   Kathleen Faulkner                                                                                            







    Tuesday, February 9, 2016

    Birdsville

    'Heading Home'  8x8" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner




    February is Bird month in the Skagit.  
    The birders come from everywhere to view the spectacle.


    One day I counted 28 eagles while slowing to a crawl to drive around the huge flock of snow geese along the road.  

    I smiled all day.


    Sunday, January 17, 2016

    A Bird's Life

    'Baby Contemplates'  16x14" oil pastel;
    Kathleen Faulkner


    It is a cold, foggy morning that chills the bones.
    I walk faster to warm up
    all the while watching the baby heron contemplate.




    Sunday, July 26, 2015

    New Life

    'Just North of Here' 18x24" oil pastel, charcoal;  Kathleen Faulkner

    I hear there are kestrel fledglings just north of here.  
    I haven't seen them yet but I know the area:  
    lots of mud.  

    Life in the marsh.




    Friday, January 17, 2014

    corvus marinus

    'A Gulp of Cormorants'  16x34" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner


    The cormorants are there.  We just don't notice.  


    We tend toward the herons and hawks.  We love the owls and revere the raven.  Cormorants blend in with the seagulls.  Nothing special, just some black birds hanging around. 

    There is an old rotting dock at the north end of town.  The cormorants are always there.  I sometimes go to that spot to think. Knowing they'll be there brings me comfort.




    Friday, December 21, 2012

    Winter Solstice

    'Woody' 8x8" oil pastel, charcoal;
    Kathleen Faulkner

    And so, now is the time we come out of the dark and head towards the Light.

    Here's to Happiness, Joy, Love and Nature.






    "It's never too late to have a happy childhood."

    Tom Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker





    Monday, December 17, 2012

    The birds have it



    'Welcome to Birdland'  8x8" oil pastel, charcoal;  Kathleen Faulkner






    No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings.
                                                                                              William Blake








    Tuesday, April 24, 2012

    Ode to the Birds

    'Cardinal' stickpin; sterling silver,
    colored pencil, mineral glass;
    Kathleen Faulkner


    Sunday morning I awoke to what sounded like someone pounding something outside my window.  It was dawn and I was not happy.  I went outside to see who was being so rude. I saw nothing.

    Next morning, dawn, pounding,  I'm not happy.  I get up look out and see a robin attacking the neighbor's garage windows.  At 5:45 in the morning  I figure they don't want to be disturbed  so I get the ladder and some cardboard to tape over the windows. I leave a note.  Good, mission accomplished.

    Later that day, pounding coming from the living room.  I look and the robin looks back.  I put up a curtain. Mission accomplished.

    This morning I am wakened by pounding.  I follow the sound to the furnace room.  I see little marks all over the window from the robin's beak..  poor, worn out robin.  I cover the window with a piece of matt board.  Mission accomplished.



    Cardinals and Robins are very territorial birds.  They see their reflection in a window and attack thinking it is an intruder.  Sometimes they will keep attacking until they die and, if they don't die, they will remember and come back for more the next season.





    Wednesday, March 2, 2011

    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..





    Monday, October 11, 2010

    John's Trees

    'John's Trees' 17x17" mixed media; Kathleen Faulkner


    We walked for hours.  It was a grey day; the ground beneath our feet was spongy, muddy, wet.  No sound but the slosh of our feet and birds, birds everywhere.  Lost in the thoughts of this place, smelling the salt, the mud, the sea,  breathing it in deep, feeling the healing.  
    The week had been tough, filled with deadlines, overextended commitments, drama and worries.  I had been looking forward to this day. 

    We stopped for a minute when David said, 'Those are John's trees. He planted them.  His energy is still here'. 'I can feel it', I said, and it was true.  The wind suddenly swept up through the trees singing a song of long, lost memories..    Then we continued on our way.






    Sunday, August 29, 2010

    Ghosts

    'Wildflower earrings' sterling silver; Kathleen Faulkner



    When I was a child, my dad and I would hike deep into the wilderness.  He was an obsessed outdoors man, among other things, so I spent a lot of time in forests.  I saw many things during those times: lots of bear,  and one up close and personal,  elk all around me, many elk,  critters,  birds,  old growth forests,  billions of wildflowers and on and on and on.

    One time, while hiking, we came upon Ghost Pipes.  Pale, dreamlike fairy tales from some other world.  I was fascinated.  My father said to me, "You'll probably never see these again, they're very rare."

    I've thought about them much over the years, how lucky I was to see something so rare and the impression they left,  as if they had become attached to my very being.

    One day, while walking in Washington Park,  there they were:  Ghost Pipes!  I was stopped in my tracks, my mind bursting with memories and emotion.  I wanted to shout out, "Hey, Dad,  Look!  Ghost Pipes!  After all these years I finally see them again!"  Instead I only thought it.

    Maybe ghosts see and hear everything, even thoughts if we want them to..




    Friday, July 30, 2010

    Talkin' bout my Friends


    'Bird's Eye View' mixed media, Kathleen Faulkner



    listening to NPR this morning talking about the price of wildlife 
    What is a pelican worth?  Some said priceless others' thoughts ranged from $1.00 to $1000.00.  

    Legally, BP is required to 'make the public whole' which means a pelican becomes worth one pelican. 

    There are four spills in progress as you read this.  The latest is threatening Lake Michigan.   













    'It's Good to Have a Running Start'
    mixed media, Kathleen Faulkner







    Sunday, July 18, 2010

    The Protest








    'Almost Cut my Lawn'



    It was shortly after the gulf disaster had begun that I went out to mow the lawn.  I had been thinking about the spill and wondering what to do.

    I view lawns in general as labor intensive patches of green, beautiful yet dull and time consuming.  My neighbors are very much loyal to it,  mowing sometimes as often as every other day.  

    It was not a good day: the gulf gusher had knocked the wind out of me.  I looked over under the cedar and saw that the deer had been sleeping there.  It was then that I decided to stop mowing my lawn.  

    I now have a resident deer and rabbit, many more birds, butterflies and other occasional visitors.  I'm sharing the food and, so far, have been ok with it.  I didn't have a good cherry crop this year but I didn't get any, anyway, the birds made sure of that.  The snails have taken out three of the five cabbage, two zucchini plants and the burdock but the peas were plentiful and I was able to feed myself, five friends, a deer and freeze some, too.

    I did have a tinge of irritation when confronting the deer eating my raspberries, though.     

    The whole feel of my yard has changed.  I like it better and so far, the neighbors haven't complained.