Day: December 30, 2016

From the deepest corners of the second floor of the big old red barn comes the second Fiber Chair, an art project that has now begun. The first fiber chair, also made out of baling string, took two years to make and graces our back porch. Maria says she has no intention of selling it, it will just sit somewhere on the farm.

This other chair, which we think is an old Victorian frame, was abandoned up in the barn, as was the first chair (now called the Rapunzel Chair). This new chair is not yet named.

For Maria, there is really little space between her art and her life. Every morning, we cut loose a bale of hay and feed it to the animals. There are usually two strings holding it together. This afternoon, while I was at lunch, Maria began the first part of this chair project, which will also take at least a year, maybe two.

For her own reasons, she waited until today to start the new chair, she will string it every morning, no matter the temperature or weather.

The work begins when we have assembled enough baling string, and ends when the animals start grazing on pasture, usually sometime in late April or May, depending on the weather, rain, etc. Art is everywhere around here,  often indistinguishable from the rest of our lives.

I am not an artist but an author, but there is little distinction between my writing and my life either, and none between my life and my photography. We are committed to the lives we are leading, and deeply moved when people tell us we inspire them. That is a humbling thing to think about, I hope it is true. Thanks for the lovely New Year’s messages we have been receiving at our post office box, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.

Tomorrow, we return to the Mansion Assisted Care Facility, to bring Red and pass out some beautiful New Year’s Greeting Cards that Kenna Ogg, a quilter and artist from Boise, Idaho, a follower of our blogs and a generous spirit, made for the Mansion residents. See the photograph below

Kenna sent one for each resident before she knew their first names, we are filling the names in for her. Kenna designed these floral cards, she took the photos of different Poinsettas, they are quite beautiful. We’re going to hand them out tomorrow and wish everyone a Happy New Year.

I’ll write more about this, but I thought for those who are interested, it might be nice for the next project to send Valentine’s or Valentine cards or gifts to the people at the Mansion for Valentine’s Day. The address there is 11 S. Union Street, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. You have all been astonishingly generous, I hope no one feels obligated to contribute further, but if you do, it will do a great deal of good.

The residents also love getting messages and cards anytime, your generosity has transformed the Mansion, and has set a wonderful tone for the New Year.

The staff will decide whether to distribute them now or hold them, unless told otherwise.

The first names of the Mansion residents are: Jean A., Mary, Gerry, Sylvie, Diane, Alice, Jean G., Madeline, Joan, Allan, Carl, John, Aileen, Christie, Helen, Connie, Alanna, Barbara, Peggie, William, Dennis, John R., Bruce, John Z.

There is a pig farm not too far from me, the pigs are well-cared for and fed. I know they are all going to slaughter, but I am often drawn to pulling my car over and watching them. Out in the cold weather, they shelter in their huts and cuddle up with one another for warmth. They are surprisingly vocal, and they are extremely social.

I avoid food politics in the same way I avoid animal politics, it is not for me to tell other people what to eat or what not to eat, and the farmer does a good and conscientious job raising and caring for his pigs. As I watched today, I saw one pig touch noses with another, the nearly universal way many animals have of showing affection and respect for one another.

It did touch me. Up where I live, in the real world of real animals, we live with perpetual live, and death, rebirth and slaughter. Death, like life, is a universal experience, and farms are great teachers about how life and death work.

A pig kiss, I believe all animals have their own kind of emotions and feelings.

When I say Maria is not domestic, I truly mean that Maria is not domestic.

In our nearly eight years together, the only domestic things she ever buys for the house is dishwater detergent, and only then, if she happens to be in a pharmacy. Otherwise, she wants weeks for me to do it.

I buy everything else. She has never bought a vacuum cleaner, or to my mind touched one except to help unclog them if they get clogged. She just does not buy anything except art supplies, she is allergic to buying things, she is the enemy and worst night mare of the retail economy.

When the soldiers of the Corporate Nation come for us, they will take her first.

Today, she went out to Glens Falls, N.Y., to pick up one of her sewing machines, which needed some cleaning and repairs. When she came in, she was breathless. “You won’t believe what I did!,” she said. “I bought a vacuum cleaner, it cost $200 and is supposed to be terrific.”

I was shocked, stunned into silence. We have so much dog hair and farm dirt and smells in our farmhouse we hire someone to come in every couple of weeks and if she can’t come I do it.

I have gone to the hardware store several times to buy those small and light and cheap ones. I have never known Maria to spent $200 on anything, and she has never, in all my time with her, ever  bought anything retail other than toilet paper and soap.

This shiny black Electrolux seems great, it has a lot of power and a two-year warranty and bags that last a year. The vacuum cleaner man – his name is Charlie – also cleans sewing machines. He said it was the best vacuum cleaner he had ever used. Maria must have really liked him, she has little truck with sales people.

Maria further astonished me by saying she wanted to try it out – it is great, she said – “but this is the last time you’ll ever see me doing this.” I knew history was made, my camera was right nearby and I grabbed a shot, this is for history. I know I will not see it again either.

Maria has no appetite for domestic work, it just never crosses her radar. It’s not that she is lazy or above it. She works like a demon.

She paints and plasters and designs rooms, and she does almost all of the heavy farm chores and hauls firewood and hay around,  and is good with a hammer and drill, but domestic work is a symbol for her of the loss of her art for many years. It has creepy implications for her. I like to shop and cook and am happy to do both.

She said she thought about calling me and asking me about the vacuum cleaner – this is a big deal, for her to do this – and I told her it was great that she didn’t.  She told Charlie I would be stunned. It was a great decision, our cheap little one is falling apart again and misses a lot of dust and hair, and she certainly didn’t need to run it by me, or let me know.

She said she knew I would be amazed and wanted to see my surprise. She did. I was speechless. I tried it out. It’s great. History was made, and this is an image you and I will, in fact, mostly likely never see again.

Red is an adaptable dog, to say the least. He is gentle and quiet in therapy work, he is steadfast and ferociously dedicated in his work with the sheep. I have never known a creature, animal or human, as focused and unwavering in his work as Red. I do not generally compare myself to dogs, but I believe we connect in this ferocious dedication to our work. Red is being creative in his way, I am being creative in mine. We both take it seriously, I am happy to stand out in the snow for hours for a photo like this, even in my bathrobe (or less.)

I am not Red, or much like him, but that is one of the ways in which we do connect I think, we see that in the other. This morning, a nasty, icy storm. Red did not appear to notice it, he kept the animals away from the feeders until I could get the hay out without falling on the ice and snow, as I have often done.

Of all our animals, the donkeys are the most unpredictable when it comes to weather. The pony and the sheep and the border collies pay no attention to the snow, they would stand out in it all day. The donkeys, given a choice, will stay dry. Although not in big storms, then, they also like to stick their heads out of the barn and keep an eye out on the world.

My monochrome camera is my best for capturing the feel of a snowstorm. it is black and white out there anyway, but the camera loves the snow, and sets it off against the background. Needless to say, it is snowing again today.