Alive, Dead

'Alive'  27x15" oil pastel;
Kathleen Faulkner

What if trees carried the souls of old poets 

or Enlightened Beings?

'Dead' 27x15 oil pastel,  graphite;
Kathleen Faulkner

Some say that the trees are key to saving the world,

that they are Earth's lungs.

Long live the Trees!

Thoughts on time management

'Octopus' length 36", diameter 2";   sterling silver,
paper,  colored pencil,  mica;  Kathleen Faulkner

Octopus has four pair of arms.  Less time needed to accomplish things.  

Octopus is intelligent and uses tools.  More gets done.

Mysterious and beautiful, in my view.

I am envious.  

Then I remember: the life span of an octopus ranges from six months to five years.  

Maybe

'Hemingway' sterling silver, paper, ink, mica;
Kathleen Faulkner;  photo:  David Scherrer

I look out my window at the school playground.  It is empty except for the girl.  I watch her swing in the hard rain,  singing

Another day I work in my garden. Evening approaches and I hear the girl singing as she swings,  alone

She is there often, most every day, for long periods.

I hear the swing as I write this.  I look.  She is there.  It is getting dark now.  It rains hard.

Something about it makes me sad.

I wonder.

a musing

'Re-visit'  oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

Thunder.

I'm grateful for the down vest that I wear over my long sleeved flannel shirt which I wear over my t-shirt and, of course,  the wool socks under sturdy pants.

Time for a hot cup of tea.

A mental picture

'Flood Tide'  oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

Memory is such a slippery slope.

Hiking up the trail, we couldn't help but talk about the beauty of the place, the abundance of green,

 the smells,  the sounds

  

I remembered the day and the conversation 

but not as it was.  

I remembered it as I was.

What IS on top?

'Memory'  oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

This is the piece I started as a demonstration during the MoNA Auction Preview Party.  I didn't get very far with it that night so finished it at home.  From this,  two others were later done as part of the series, 'Seasonal Pattern'.  

Below are the three together.  I'm putting one of them in the Edison Eye Show coming up  in July: 

'The Permanence of Pattern: What is on Top?'

July 21st through August 5th, 2012

Opening July 21st, 5-10pm

Edison Eye Gallery

Edison, WA

'Heading West' oil pastel;
Kathleen Faulkner

'Looking East' oil pastel;
Kathleen Faulkner

'Memory' oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

Side thoughts

'Looking East'  oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

June has come and almost gone then July arrives 

and the year is half over.   

I have yet to be warm.  

If I had a choice between time on the coast or time east in the heat,  I would usually pick coast.  Today though, I'm thinking about how nice it would be to warm up with some sunshine east of the mountains.

Summer fun

'Heading West' oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

It rains and rains

but then I think about other places and it reminds me of how lucky we are.

Last night

the rain

spoke to me

slowly, saying, 

what joy

to come falling

out of the brisk cloud, 

to be happy again

in a new way

on the earth! 

That’s what it said

as it dropped, 

smelling of iron, 

and vanished

like a dream of the ocean

into the branches

and the grass below.

Then it was over.

The sky cleared.

I was standing

under a tree.

The tree was a tree

with happy leaves, 

and I was myself, 

and there were stars in the sky

that were also themselves

at the moment

at which moment

my right hand

was holding my left hand

which was holding the tree

which was filled with stars

and the soft rain –

imagine! imagine! 

the long and wondrous journeys

still to be ours.

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me by Mary Oliver

For Paul Havas

'John's Trees' 17x17" oil and soft pastel, charcoal;  Kathleen Faulkner

About a year or more ago I did a piece titled ' John's Trees'.   

There was a story that went with the work.  The trees were planted by a well known Skagit artist and so I titled it accordingly.  John Simon had recently passed, he was on my mind and I titled it thinking of him..  but he didn't plant those trees.

I did this piece from my memory of the work.  It came out closer than I had expected.  

So, here's to you, Paul.  May you rest in peace.

'Paul's Trees' 17x17"oil and soft pastel, charcoal;  Kathleen Faulkner

glimpse

'Low Tide' Neckpiece 24x2" sterling silver, oil pastel, paper,
glass lenses, pearls;  Kathleen Faulkner

We've had low tides these past few days 

Our weather has been below par  
glimpses of winter.

Today is a breath of fresh air    light breeze    warm sun    

another low tide.  

I watch the bumble bees pollinate the raspberries.   

Days like these will be remembered years from now.

The Bee's Knees

Bumblebees pollinating the broccoli flowers;  Kathleen Faulkner

Ah, the lovely, charismatic bumble bee!

Unlike honey bees, bumblebees are much less aggressive.  They will only sting if their life is threatened

and the good news is they won't die if they must sting.

Not the bee if you want honey but quite the bee if you want to pollinate your flowers.

Unfortunately, their biggest threat is man and his pesticides.

The Visit

www.robertsund.org

One never knows where one's mind might wander..

I've been thinking about The Poet's House and Robert Sund's new book, 'Notes from Disappearing Lake'.  

I love this book because it is a visit with an old friend.

I drink my tea and read the book and Robert comes alive. 

and what is good and what is beautiful lives on

'Returning to the poetry of Robert Sund'

Mind's Eye

'Mindscape' oil and soft pastel, charcoal;

Kathleen Faulkner

The Monday after the full moon and weekend craziness abounded.  Plants grew faster and my head still spins. 

What to do to counteract?  Mindscape series continued:  

all I can do is listen   

and draw.  

This came from a place I don't go often 

a place I'd like to get to know, 

a place I will re-visit.

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.

Back to Basics

It's been awhile since I've had any inspiration to paint.  Other matters have been grabbing my attention.

My jewelry life has taken over.  A new gallery in Seattle and a new way of doing things.  I'm finding out what it's like to step up to the 'Seattle' plate.

When I told my daughter of my good fortune she reminded me of the time, many years ago, when we stood in this gallery and I said, "Someday I will have my jewelry here."  

Now I think about those canvases that have been sitting in the corner, waiting for me and I think, "Someday I'll paint with oils".  

To do that I need to get back to the basics.

'Asian Pears' oil pastel; from my 'still learning'
first series of oil pastels.


 Someone said, "I'm disappointed.  I thought you'd draw something
worthwhile."

Ouch..    I said,  " I'm just learning the basics." 

Making something out of nothing

Earrings;  found glass shards, metallic ink, sterling
and fine silver;  Kathleen Faulkner

Some days are better spent outside.  

Down at the beach where I go to find shards, 

I can always count on the birds.  

They are always there 

living their lives just out of my reach

  

and giving me hope for a world that seems broken.

Cormorants living their lives in the Guemes Channel;  Kathleen Faulkner

In Support of the Arts

"Wired"  neckpiece, length 66"
fine and sterling silver, oxidation; Kathleen Faulkner

The annual MoNA Auction is coming up.  Each year I like to make a piece just for this event.  

It is our 'local' museum and it is worth the effort. 

I have just finished this and I'm feeling pretty good about it. 

Here's hoping someone else at the auction feels the joy I put into this necklace 

and bids on it.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire...

I decided that this year would be the beginning of my love affair with uncomfortable situations.  

Scott Schuldt, in conjunction with Anchor Art Space, was offering a mapping workshop.  I knew at once that I would do it and it scared me to death.  I am self taught in the math department and so, needless to say, I am capable in the basics and what I've had to learn for my business,  anything else is foreign territory. 

I must admit that when we began, I was totally lost then, with Scott's able instruction, I slowly began to make sense of it all.  By the time the workshop had ended, I felt empowered with a skill I never knew I needed.. and I'm still wondering what exactly to do with this new information.. it will be useful, I think, when in the woods.  I will use it somehow, sometime.  

There's a lot to be said for leaping out of the comfort zone! 

learning the basics before going outside to map

Dakota Creek Shipyard: an excellent subject for mapping

My finished product: I now know, without being able to get there,
how far it is to that tug boat.  

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

Safety is a rock.

Abandoned cabin in a forest

It's been a while since I've spent the day in the woods.  I forget that, when in the forest, one is in the moment.  Later, it is in my mind.  Thinking about it brings out feelings I can't explain.  

Front door

The cabin was one part of the whole of this day.

I wondered about the person who stayed there

cold and wet in the winter 

but especially grey

living or just staying?

High up looking east

Beautiful view of the river before the trees grew up.

The writing on the wall said 1958.

Artifacts of a life of another time

strewn about here and there 

Built next to a boulder 

  

Safety is a rock.

View from the front door

Everyday is a Beautiful Day in Paradise

Snow on bamboo

We had our first snow of the season.  

In the beginning, I walked up Mt Erie.  Later we were all restricted to our homes.  Later still, I tried for a walk but just managed to fall.  It seemed, this year, giving it up to snow was a lot easier for generally everyone.  We simply shut down.  No use to fight it.

Snow people laugh at us,  jokes are told, we are considered pansies.   In our defense I must remind the laughers that, here in the Puget Sound area, we don't really have the funds to support a major snow clean up  not to mention the hill factor.   Imagine San Francisco with 6"+ of snow and ice and you get the picture.

There is a saying:  'If you don't like the weather
just wait awhile and it will change'.

Today is a clear, cold, beautiful day.

View from Skyline looking southwest

Some goals

Untitled Neckpiece 30x1.5" sterling silver;  Kathleen Faulkner

Another year:  Art Talk is two years old this month.  I must admit that I'm proud of myself for sticking with it this long.

Someone said that every drawing is a self portrait.  I tend to believe that to be true of all mediums and, if that's the case, I've put myself out there to the whole world  as all artists do when their work is viewed by the public.  The good news is that this blog is a vehicle for connection.  I feel like I'm talking to a friend when I write these posts.

I have two goals for this blog:  a place to view my work and think about art and a place to be reminded, now and then, of the mystery and beauty of wild places; vital, living environments that should be allowed to exist simply because they exist.

My hope is to move someone, somewhere, 

a millionth of an inch*

*HOW TO BREAK THROUGH:
“Have big dreams but focus only on what you can control: your own thoughts, words and actions. This was Gandhi’s way … in the words of poet Gary Snyder,
our job is to move the world a millionth of an inch.”
Eboo Patel

To the New Year!

'Hope' sign in the window at the Lucky Dumpster in Edison, WA

Here's to strong friends, healthy family, good cheer and happy life. 

Here's to the time, energy and inspiration required to tap into our potential. 

  

May we all catch a glimpse of enlightenment as we save our earth and live happily ever after

Cheers!

thoughts on a new year

'Marsh Time'  8x8" oil pastel, medium; Kathleen Faulkner

As 2011 comes to an end, some of us may be looking back on it and thinking about various amazing events, good and bad, that have taken place on our planet.  

Although Earth has a mess on it's hands, many good things have occurred and 

it sometimes seems as though a shift might be happening. 

Someone once said, 'change doesn't need everyone to make it happen, it just needs enough.'

I am and will remain hopeful for the future. 

Ode To Enchanted Light

Under the trees light 

has dropped from the top of the sky,

light 

like a green 

latticework of branches,

shining 

on every leaf, 

drifting down like clean 

white sand.

A cicada sends 

its sawing song 

high into the empty air.

The world is 

a glass overflowing 

with water.

           Pablo Neruda

           

Things that go bump in the night

'Bandit' linocut, 4x6"; Kathleen Faulkner

I grew up on science fiction and Twilight Zone. 

The first time I heard a raccoon in the night it scared me and, of all the urban wildlife in this area, raccoon is still my least favorite.  

There's something about their presence in the dark that makes me 

nervous.

I stay inside when I know they're around.
I wish them well, though.

The Toast

***

May you always have art to charm

your days, a sensible hearth

and friends as dependable as gravity.

May the wind and creatures be as music

to your evenings alone and may your dreams

leave you renewed.  May you have an appaloosa 

to ride the outline of blue hills, and nothing 

that sickens, and no black sticks.

                                  James Bertolino

*** unknown artist

Ode to OWS

'Small Fry' colored pencil;  Kathleen Faulkner

Never forget that not all the 1% are bad and not all the 99% are good.  

That being said, Viva La Revolucion!

"Here's to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes... the ones who see things differently -- they're not fond of rules... You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can't do is ignore them because they change things... they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do."

Steve Jobs

US computer engineer & industrialist (1955 - 2011)

The View from Here

'In My View' 25x36" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

Fir

indicates high views

with clear vision of what is beyond

and 

yet to come*

*unknown author

Forest for the trees..

'Forest'  20x20"  oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

The rains have begun.  First storm of the season will be blowing in later today.  

A long, cold season begins and, to add insult to injury, the season before was not that fulfilling.  

The good news is that it is a most creative time.  

The ideas are starting to flow and I look forward to the dead of winter

cold

yet satisfying

Thoughts on the under appreciated

'Alder' 18x18" oil pastel;  Kathleen Faulkner

Ah, yes, the 'mighty' alder.  It's another bit of nature that is under appreciated.  

Alder's favorite place to live is in the Cascade Mountains.  We are very lucky because, without this tree, erosion happens.  After a fire, Alder is the first on the scene using it's roots to stabilize river banks and mountain sides while also providing shade protection for evergreen seedlings. 

Another excellent attribute of the Alder is it's nitrogen-fixing nodules that are located on it's roots. These nodules improve soil fertility and make it a perfect solution for reclaiming degraded soils and industrial wastelands. 

The indians used alder to make canoes since the wood will never rot in water: as a matter of fact, water preserves alder wood whereas air eventually rots it.  Different parts of the tree have been used to make dye,  health remedies and many other things.

When the whitish wood is cut, it turns red as if it's bleeding.  I always wonder what the world of a tree is like from a tree's perspective.