26 November 2009

Izzy’s Eye

  Izzy is, like other dogs, a den animal. He loves the floor underneath the upholstered wing chair, and yesterday, I got down on the floor with him to get this shot of him peering at me, while I peer at him. He is the newly appointed cover boy and post card image for my photo show, "Portraits Of My Life," at the Redux Gallery in Dorset, Vt. on January 9, 2010.
 

Studio Barn. Thanksgiving Day

  I spent most of Thanksgiving last year alone, in my new reality as a divorced person, my notion of family in shambles. This year, I spent Thanksgiving with Maria's family. It was very warm, lovely, really, and I appreciated it. It was also strange, a new idea of family, new experiences with shared history. Then back to the farm to help clean up Frieda and bring her inside. The farm always makes itself know, makes its presence felt. It is not like a house you live in, it is more of a living thing with a mind of its own.
  It is very difficult to mark time in our culture. The air is filled with economic stats and portents, people are insecure, nervous.
  An important time to take stock, seek meaning beyond the curiously named new national holiday called Black Friday and, I suppose, to give thanks.
  I have much to be grateful for, and when I add it up, I am nearly overwhelmed. I am clear on some of my goals for next year. To strengthen my ideas of family, from my daughter outwards, to continue to be true to my ideals of friendship, to be creative. To tell my stories, take my photos, be a good partner to Maria, and a better man and human being.
  I am thinking a lot about the farm, and whether to leave it, trying especially to sort out what role fear may play in my decisions. It is a special place, and it is in my heart and soul. I am not at all sure that I am ready to leave, or that it makes a whole lot of sense to stay. Fortunately, I have the time and inclination to sort through that. In the meantime, I am grateful for it, and the memories and stories it has provided me and continues to provide. No writer could ask for more.

Skunked, cont.

 Detergent, peroxide and baking soda. The skunk lives. Frieda has not learned her lesson.

Skunked!

   Frieda spent Thanksgiving chasing a skunk and getting sprayed. The skunk escaped. She reeks.
  
   New event: Northshire Books, December 19, 1 p.m. to 3 p.m.  Izzy and I (and Maria and Mary Kellogg) will be on hand signing books and ASA calendars. Had a great time there last year. Come on by. Manchester Center, Vt. This Saturday, 1 to 3 p.m., Gardenworks, Salem, N.Y. Books, poems, food, cheese, muffins, Xmas trees, crafts, pies, potholders, dogs, ASA calendars. Me and Izzy. Come by.

The Daily Potholder. Happy Thanksgiving

  Every day I am challenged, tested, disappointed, surprised, frightened. And I am encouraged, inspired, excited, loved and curious.
  I have learned to give thanks for all of these emotions, trials and surprises. Life is a wheel, I think, turning and turning. Love, trouble, disappointment, success. The measure isn't that we are free of pain and disappointment, but how we respond to it.
  Life is too short, but life is good.