Humidity: 82%

'The Rainy Season' 12x12" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

The rains have come.

I put on my rain gear

and walk anyway.

another story

'Under Story' 24x48" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

It is a slow start to Spring:

cold and record rainfall here.

It is good for our water supply and the under story

which, in turn, 

is good for us.

 

It Rains

'The Rain in Spain'  20" sterling silver, hematite; Kathleen Faulkner
photo: David Scherrer
  

For awhile, we all worried about the snowpack in the mountains: 

not much rain in November and December. 

The rain now comes down in buckets. 

February is making up for lost time.  

Somewhere on Fir Island; Kathleen Faulkner

Work before play

'Let's Play'  21x23" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner

It's raining and has been for a few days.   Some places are flooded.  The yards have evolved into ponds. 

I've been thinking about some fun things I'd like to do. The version of play around here often involves being outside.  Fortunately, rain is not a deterrent for me.  

Today, though, I have a project to finish up and, as much as I'd love to play it will have to wait for another day.

The Winter of it

'The Winter of It' oil and soft pastel, charcoal; 8x8"
Kathleen Faulkner

It is the Winter of it.  Darkness, rain  and the mentally ill.  

I think about a painting I did.  Title:  'It's Good to Have a Running Start'.
It is hard to have a running start in the Winter of it.  Friends are falling and Life is challenging.  I'm giving things away.  It helps.

It will soon be the Solstice.  Then, the days will grow longer and we will move toward Spring,  the favored season.  Then we shall all carry on.

'The Winter of It III' oil and soft pastel, charcoal; 8x8"
Kathleen Faulkner

Happy to be home

'Sauk Mountain' 17x23" oil pastel; Kathleen Faulkner

When I travel away from the Pacific Northwest I am always happy to be home.  Don't get me wrong.  I miss the friends I visit, I miss the excitement of traveling but, something about our little corner of the world has me  forever.
Yes, the winters are cold, wet, foggy;  a damp cold that chills to the bone.  The summers, especially this summer, less than satisfying with temperatures that compete with the winter temps of California, northern, that is.

There is a reason we are called the Evergreen state:  it's called rain. 

Rain is my inspiration.  It can be depressing at times but it is also a big part of the reason I create.  Art is what I taught myself to do at a very young age to keep the demons away.  It works well.


In the woods above Issaquah
near a grey farmhouse
we pick plums in the rain.
Another day, on Sauk Mountain,
we lie in a meadow.   A bird
jolts a stalk of fireweed
so the light seeds drift over us
     and down the slope.
Far below,  the Skagit River
winds toward the sea, turning
     like a pattern in old jade.
At home you put some tomatoes
on the window sill to ripen,
and I think of jade again.
Nights,
while a bird outside the window
begins to budge the night away
      with a single sound,
your breasts, your lips, your eyelids
are delicate as petals of
      winter poppies.
I don't know what happened,
One night, no use knocking on your door,
I stepped down from the front porch
as rain fell through big leaves and the grass woke up,
      and your face was
      a small round stone
      falling through dark water.


'In the Woods Above Issaquah'   Robert Sund