23 October 2010

Rose and the Imaginary Squirrel

Rose is still at it

I haven't posted a photo of Rose chasing her Imaginary Squirrel in awhile. She was back at it today, undeterable (like Barbara Kurtz of Columbus. Eager to write more about the book tour tomorrow. We wore out today, read and went out to dinner with a friend in Glens Falls.

Lots of people are inquiring about how to get signed books. If I am coming near you on the book tour — next Tuesday, 7 p.m., Odyssey Books, S. Hadley, Mass. – that is one way. The other way is to buy a book from Gardenworks, Salem, N.Y. (518 854-3250). They are right near me and have my books and I can easily get down there every week or so and sign some and personalize them – if you leave signing instructions – and they can ship them to you.

Autumn, last gasp (4)

Whispering to me

Joseph Campbell wrote that the role of the artist is to make sense of the light and shadows of the world, and I take that to heart. These shadows whisper to me: life your life, make your own news, follow the call inside of you to tell your story, and make your mark on the world, and to keep faith with yourself, even when the world does not.

Autumn, last gasp, (3)

Autumn bouquet

Some of the first photos I ever took were of dead leaves – "beauty in small things" I wrote – at a time when i was desperate to find beauty and light, and was walking in darkness and shadow. Freud said "Love and Work." I say "Love and Light."

Autumn, last gasp (2)

Catching the last gasp

There are few days left to catch the last gasp of autumn. We can feel the wind turn. We turned on the barn heating system for the water today. Will start loading firewood onto the porch, and soon, start using the wood stove. Today, I dusted off the 180 mm Canon macro lens, a good lens for studying leaves when thelight is right. So happy to be taking photos again.

Autumn, last gasp (1), Marigolds

Marigolds, on the front fence

In the days we were gone, the leaves fell off the trees (mostly) and the last flowers are waning. The marigolds are the last ones in our garden.