Muses say "paint' and the donkey gets randy

It's time. The muses have told me. Revvings to get a canvas on the wall again. My motives for getting up in the morning change slightly. Instead of only thinking about farm chores, how to make pickles, ram buying and horse training, I can reclaim my other role, as artist. The break I took from canvases and painting in late July is coming to an end, as I have more and more daily longings to be in my studio solely to paint.

I have also been seeing a certain canvas direction in my head, and it is there for longer each day. Next week, I'll be back at it. The break was necessary. I grudgingly have to admit, I can't do all things at all times. I do things intensely. The intense 2 months working with my horse allowed us to take leaps we wouldn't have. I worked intensely on getting lavender products going, getting the online stores going, finding new sales for the farm. Oh yes, bought a donkey in there and started a started a pie service with him...Then there was and is the farm peace movement. Perhaps it is good that no one from DC has answered Stella and Iris' letters, as I might have to somehow get them out east for public appearances.

But now, I am ready. I think art is really the one thing I do best. I do okay in other things. But somewhere in another realm I was given an ability to feel intensly, and translate those intense feelings, happy or sad or whatever, onto a piece of art. It won't translate for everyone, but just enough to make the art a conduit for some. I have no idea what it does for them or perhaps helps them with, but I take it very seriously, that gift. I do not consider making art 'play' as some suggest it should - "be a child again, play, paint, draw..." - Bunk, it's a hard exploration each time, a struggle to start but once in it I can't stop. Play is skipping down the road with Huck at my side. Nothing else matters on the human ground while painting - and that is why the farm is so important as a balance. Because what is on the human ground does matter, and adds value to my life and heart. Before the farm, I floated in my head a lot, I would trance at the drop of a hat. The farm, its dirt, the need for me to always connect my hands to physical things and animals that are rooted on the physical earth - keeps me a spirt having a human experience, not the other way around.

So this week has been full of tying up loose ends, cleaning the studio, preparing my pencils - just like I did before heading off to a new school year. There is something wonderful about the turning of summer to fall. The week has also been full of animal angst. It started with me taking a trip to urgent car to get a tetanus shot after I rescued Mr. Pumpkin Head from something he got stuck in - his sweet little face was capable of latching on to my calf with all teeth sunk in like a boa constrictor. If you've ever had a cat do this, you know the anguish bleats that came out of my medium build body. He was scared, I don't blame him, but he's the biggest trouble maker on the farm, a little bully really. Later in the week I kept finding curved marks on the goat's backs where hair was missing. I suspected Pino might be kicking out at them over feeding time, but the marks were on their backs, not where a kick would occur. The hair was totally gone, but no raw bleeding area. Perhaps being ripped out by blackberry bushes, which can do that. They are after all covered in berry stains at day's end. But I still suspected Pino. Stella was in heat this week, and yesterday I heard heard yelp in pain and saw her running away from a sheepish looking Pino. There on her back was a new mark, no hair, but also a slight gash made by a sharp tooth - he had been biting her, perhaps trying to mount her. Some other hints that our dear Pino needs...well...female companionship: he has taken a real fondness to my mare, Sky, looking longingly at her and trotting with his lips curled up as we ride by; and the little lady killer has become quite fond of...ahem...me - running behind me a bit too, well, let's just say in a 'randy' manner. Not aggressive, just with that 'gotta get me some of that" look. We had thought we'd keep Pino 'intact' in case we wanted to breed him, unless he gave us problems. But with Joe Pye Weed and Mr. T on the way, and 3 breeding rams to sell, there's enough testosterone in the field for now. He is a nice donkey, and a baby would be so precious. But adding more donkeys would mean growing my pie delivery service to new heights, and much too much toe painting....

So, Pino has a date with the doctor for a - you know. They will come to the farm and do it while he is put under. I told him not to worry, that after it's over, we will be much more able to focus on his pie service, and he will still have the same heart. He blinked, and leaned into me. One must be brave in facing changes, even when you are just a little donkey.

Buckets! Buckets! Buckets!

Like I said in an earlier posts, one just can't have enough buckets!
I was so excited to get our Bunny Buckets! They are now available on the store and we thought they make a wonderful, sweet way to welcome a little baby into the world. One should start a baby out with a baby bucket, yes? Filled with our Hidcote lavender and a little gift note attached, any baby would coo-coo I think.


And, I have started Bucket of the Month on the store. I found these old maple syrup collecting buckets from a woman who collects them in the forests out east. Then I embellish them with layered color acrylic washes and varnish. Each bucket has a different image varnished on - this one is a Parisian postcard, also hand scouted by a woman that collects and sells vintage postcards.

Blue Ribbon in My Heart

I awoke with great excitement on Monday, as we were off to the state fair to see Pokeweed compete in the yearling ram class. When I did barn chores, I told everyone I was off to see Pokeweed, and I told Rosemary his mother I would greet him. We sold Pokeweed a year ago to Schulson Ranch at 6 months, and I was so pleased to see how he had filled out. I have to admit, I was so proud! And there in one stall were 4 little Pokers [seen here], all created by Pokeweed, which means they are grandchildren of our Mr. Joe Pye Weed. Pokeweed's personality is still sweet and calm. He came in 3rd out of 5, but in my heart, he has a blue ribbon.

I used to go to the Minnesota State Fair [and, I must admit, the Oregon Fair ranks 1 out of 10 in quality, exhibits, livestock shows, fair site, animal shows, barns, etc]; the Minnesota State fair gets a 10] and I would buy the usual corn dog, mini doughnuts, maybe some lousy little piece of crap that caught my eye, like a bracelet made out of corn seeds [I miss the seed art building!]. But now I know just how much my life has changed, as the only thing I bought was...a sheep. A ram to be exact. This fine 1 year old ram will be coming to Apifera this fall to help keep our line from being too inbred. Some people just get rid of their ram after two years, but I am devoted to Joe. After much hair tearing and consults with my patient sheep crowd sprinkled through out the country, I decided two rams was the way to go. This fine gentleman is gentle and I think we will all be fine. One year he will breed with Rosemary, and Joe can then breed with those lambs a year or so later. He was named Mr. T, and we will adjust it to a weed name, to keep in line with the fact that all our rams are named after weeds. If you have a favorite weed, leave a comment. I just haven't had time to think. It would be nice if it started with a T. Can't do 'teasel'. Thistle is a possibility.

We walked through the horse barn which was disappointing as hardly any horses were in. The next day was mini donkeys,so we did see some mini donkeys that would have ripped Pino's heart out. Saw a few Palominos that had been shown that morning. I was really tempted to buy a floppy eared bunny but one ram seemed like a good day's investment. When we got home, I looked over our flock at feeding time and felt like we are doing pretty good with breeding good stock even though we were total novices in 2004. We are not experts, nor do we have that as a goal. I also was really glad to see all our animals, and I don't know why. It was just really nice to be in the barn. Sky looked especially beautiful to me. Perhaps because she is mine, and walking around the fair, I remember how many fairs I'd been to where I saw the horses and thought "someday, somehow'...

Twists and turns of friendship

Why is braiding my horse's main so soothing? Why does wearing a braid or pigtails feel different than wearing your hair down? I pondered these the other day as I was making little twine braids, playing around with the lavender, trying to come up with a new way to bundle it for higher end sales. I get so tired of organza violet ribbon and it's just not my style. Martyn came home and said, 'Oh, you're making friendship braids." Oh, my dear sweet man, he hit it right on the head. Of course, these were friendship bundles I was making. Now, the braids aren't all girly and perfect, ok, so don't come buying one and returning it because the braids are all crooked and sometimes they stick up and sometimes they stick out. That is just the way I do them, OK? They are each uniquely crafted bundle braid sculptures. By the time I am done with them, I make about negative $50.00 since they are rather time consuming. However, they make me happy, and I hope they make you happy too, and perhaps one of your friend's happy too. Buy them on the online store 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...

Each bundle comes with a little poem that I penned, but I had one of the garden fairies write it for me in his little fairy handwriting. You also get a 5x7" card/envelope for a note if you are giving it as a gift - or leave it blank for your friend to enjoy. [Archival Inks] And of course, I'm happy to write a note in the card for you if you want me to mail it directly as a gift.

I made peanut butter cookies today. I had been yearning for something home baked. The weather turned fall like, the sky had a gray cast over the range. I had some upsetting family news that reminded me that one minute you're perky as you sit making braids, and the next minute you can get some sad news in a phone call. Yin yang. The braid is like that, little twists and turns, just like life. And peanut butter cookies are like a mother's arms sometimes.

Dreaming

There once was a young girl who loved to go to sleep at night because she could be alone with her dreams and thoughts. Sometimes she would go into her bedroom before it was dark, and lie in bed and make up stories about people she would be with. At that time, she was a big fan of the Monkees, so often her dream life included outings with Davy, or Davy would adopt her after she was found wandering alone on the beach. She had puppets and dolls that seemed real, carvings of horses and animals that she would imagine were real. She wanted to be with the Cartrights on Bonanza.

I still love to get in my bed. I like to shut my eyes and just let dreams tell me things, help me with things, or just prod me about things. Someone once told me, let your dreams give you what you need to have them give you at that time. I knew that the wood carved animals and puppets would come to life someday.

I have all the lavender bud processed. I look forward to having our real drying room in the barn next season. Each day, a fine layer of spent lavender flowers would fall from the ceiling in the kitchen where we had the bundles hanging to dry. Our harvest looks really good, and I'm getting our first national accounts going - we're going to make it. Now I can say that.

We spent our 3rd anniversary drinking a good bottle of Pinot in the dark with one candle, watching a PBS show on Willie Nelson, lavender scent wafting around us. Martyn had stopped on the way home off a main highway to pick me rose hips mixed with goldenrod. I spent a few minutes earlier looking at old wedding pictures, which made me yearn for the day again - it was beautiful weather, my family and friends were there, I was so clean and girlie looking, and the cake was really good. It made me miss my family and friends - everyone is scattered, some to the wind. "We ain't got a barrel of money, our clothes may be ragged and funny, but we're rollin' along, singin' our song, side by side."

Painted toes, pickles on the side please

Pino's first venture out as a birthday-party-surprise-guest was a huge hit. He stood patiently while I put the finishing touches on his party toenails, and finally, with pink balloons attached loosely to his neck, Black Eyed Susans tucked in his halter, and his gift tucked under a rope, he eventually made it to the river side where the party was being held. Once at the party, he was greeted by a bevy of squealing little girls - hugs followed, petting, more squealing. He handed over his little gift to the birthday girl, wrapped in pink paper to match his pink balloons. He had brought her a set of fabulous shiny, gaudy gem stone rings set in fluorescent plastic settings - fit for a queen, or a five year old. The food served included a vegetable tray of carrots, which the little party goers quickly discovered were a huge favorite of mini donkeys. Eventually, Pino was also sampling hot dogs and cupcakes. Before anyone writes me letters of reprimand, may I say that Pino is on a strictly donkey diet of natural roughage and hay - but one birthday party and a few cupcake bites washed down with a hot dog end seemed OK. About the only thing I felt bad about was when they brought out the donkey Pinata - everyone apologized, and Pino stood quietly by my side taking it like a man. The head finally flew off, candy flew around, more squealing, and Pino had had enough. He yawned and I took the little party animal home. Not long after, I saw him in the field, laying in the shade.

As if taking a donkey to a party of five year olds wasn't enough excitement, I made my first batch of pickles and pickled beets. Yes, yes, I can hear the pickle snickers now, I did not know how to make pickles or can. So I was quite pleased with the end results, and I must say, I found the whole process really satisfying. I now have wild thoughts in my head of canning everything - or at least making jam this week as the blackberries are at peak.

We were finally getting ready for the evening relaxation time, ie wine drinking, when the fire trucks began roaring down the road heading up a nearby farm's road. There were at least 10 trucks. We ran to our side field where the our ewes and horse are, and could see the smoke in the very close hillside. All the area people were out in their fields. Some trucks had to use our neighbor farm's water well to fill their reserve truck - the trucks were there for about four hours making sure the small forest fire was out, and all was well - but it gave us pause. We had just been talking about improving our water situation this winter in a variety of ways, not only for our nursery, but for a possible fire emergency. Martyn went back to start dinner, and I tucked the horse and goats and ewes in their stalls for the nite. I told Sky not to worry, that I was in charge of protecting her from fires, and Martyn was in charge of protecting me from fires.

Turning the color of horse and field

I think I am revving up to paint before September. My hiatus from August painting might not last, as I am yearning for the companionship of my art. As I drove from town errands today, I was surrounded in 360 degrees with the color of August hay. On the ground, in hay bales stacked, in burnt out trees and weeds, in the dust blowing in huge cloud formations as farmers worked the dry fields. I thought of recent pieces and missed them. I want to honor the square bales I see all over right now, but mostly the color of August. If I wait until September it might pass, and then how will the fields feel? My strawberry blond locks are more blonde than strawberry this month; I am now the color of my horse, and we are both blending into the earth of August. I tried to take a picture of her as she grazed in the burnt out fields, looking so beautiful and glistening in the afternoon sun. But I couldn't capture it. You never can. That's why you have to get out in nature and breathe with it. Art can only do so much.


On the way home, I saw a dead cat in the middle of a 4 lane highway. It was an orange tabby, like Angustofolia or Little Orange of our farm. I slowed for a second from 55MPH with cars behind me, thinking I could stop and pull it off the highway. But it was way too dangerous for me. Still, the image of its little body was burned in my head all the way home - perhaps some child is searching for it, and will drive the highway with their mother looking for it, only to come upon it on the highway. I felt horrible.

I grabbed the first cat that came to me and held it tight and cried for a second.

Then Pino brayed, and Huck greeted me, Billy awoke from his 5 hour nap - and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window - my hair so blonde with a slight curl, like Sky's mane. It inspired me to go see her.

I live with a donkey and a real Christopher Robin

This is what I saw yesterday morning as I left the house to go to the barn.

Perhaps everyone is tired of my donkey. I am as annoying, I suppose, as people that talk too much about their toddler's first steps, or new couples that put the name of their brand new boyfriend's or girlfriend's name in every sentence as if they were
all mashed together as one entity. Yuck. Sorry, but I'm just not quite done with the initial infatuation with bringing home a new farm animal. It should subside sometime, maybe. Probably not before Saturday, when Pino will attend a birthday party down the road for a five year old friend, who doesn't know he's coming yet. We will have to leave plenty early to get there on time, as Pino walks......v...e..r....y.....slllloooowwwllllllllyyyyy.

As with all my past August's, I am thinking on low drive, in little spurts, writing in chops, not as fluid as usual. I see things and I want to remember them, or honor them but since I'm trying not to paint this month, I write a note, or take photos.

For example, this morning Martyn appeared in front of me in this outfit. Yes, I am married to Christopher Robin. This outfit is almost as good as his rubber suit, but perhaps even more endearing. I complimented him on his attire, and as he walked out the door, he said, "I picked it out my ownself"...

Have donkey, will deliver pies

I have completely revamped my main site. I yearned for whiter pages, and for a site that combined my art and farm muses and life more seamlessly than the last. I also have been wanting to showcase more of my drawing and charcoals such as this image, and plan to keep adding these. Where the idea of this "Girl Yearning for Mother's Red Shoes" came from, I don't know. I just did it one day. Perhaps it is a throwback to a time in my life when I yearned for new red shoes, I don't know, but it pleases me, especially the orange.




I am looking forward to September and to focus on art again - and the weather change - the best time of year in my book. But until then, I amindulging this August with daily rides with my horse and working on the lavender field. And with the donkey's help, I have begun "Pino's Pie Club". As I write, I have a homemade blackberry pie baking and when it is done, I will put it in a little basket and Pino and I will hand deliver it to our nearby farm friends down the road. I love to bake, and I always had a romantic notion that when one moves to the country, one must bake pies and deliver them in little baskets. I never would have dreamed I'd get to do it with a donkey, but that shows you how magical the universe works. Pino has become such a hit on Tupper Road, that I walk him to visit with people. And I just thought baking pies is just about the darn golliest farm friendly thing one can do. I make little cards to go with each pie. I figure I get to test the pie crust cookies, and leave the pie to the neighbors, helping me to keep from looking like Hoss in Bonaza by winter.

I am researching a little wagon for Pino to pull - a mini donkey pulling a wagon with lavender and pies - oh, man, I gotta have it. Perhaps the drawing above is representative for me of a simpler life, a life of just simply wanting new red shoes seems sometimes easier than the life we are now living by choice. My shoes are always dirty, and I never dress up much anymore. I still paint peace signs on my jeans and girl up my riding attire with daisies in the horse bridal and one for my hat. But a young girl with braids yearning for a mother's red shoes - this seems so far away. Maybe that's all it was. A nice memory.

Envision Peace

With peaceful conditions all over the world deteriorating daily, the farm animals have pumped up their peace efforts.What started with the goats, has grown now to include the donkey, Big Tony, pugsand a lab, fawns running towards peace, and more. If a conversation about peace and peaceful resolutions can begin between people simply because one person notices your 'goats for peace' button, well, that's a start. One of my customers and friend in Japan was wearing her Goats for Peace button, and when someone asked her what it meant, she proudly told them it was 'her friend in America who lives on a farm and is an artist and has a peace movement with her animals". I thought that was so cool. The goats are in Japan spreading their message.

What happens to the gardens in war? Or the bees, flowers, fields of hay, pets, birds, sheep? People and children are hurt, killed, but so is nature and the animals. Just last week I heard about a shepherd tending his flock in Iraq who went to check on a dead person in his field, and the body was booby trapped with a bomb, and the shepherd died. Killed tending your flock....

So, if you believe in peaceful resolutions, no matter how diverse the flock or herd, no matter what color the lab, no matter how different the language or religion or culture, show it in your actions and words. Keep peace in your heart and wear a button with a peaceful donkey or goat. [BUMPER STICKERS COMING NEXT WEEK]

And may all animals, farmers, children, crops, fields, flowers, trees and people suffering in heat waves find relief soon.

Never taken lightly

I have set the date for the 3 meat lambs to be butchered in November. They will die on the same patch of pasture they spent their first days on. Somehow, it makes sense. I would much rather they go this way then be sent off to a butcher - even if it was a humane operation, as it is so stressful for the animals, especially sheep, to be transported. The butcher we have coming is well known and respected, and I am confidant he will do a quick and humane job, or we wouldn't be hiring him. Part of me wants to watch, perhaps hoping if I see the process enacted, it will help me somehow be more at ease with raising an animal and then, by choice, slaughtering it for meat. Being 'at ease' with it is unlikely, but perhaps I can reach a place where it doesn't feel like an impending trauma. Most seasoned farmers will say the animals have no idea of their role of becoming food, but I disagree. I feel that they do know their purpose, but unlike me, are at peace with it. I am with those animals and handle them much of the day, I know the slight differences in each of our small flock, and I can tell you those three weathers are calmer than the others, move with a slower pace, they just have an air about them. Perhaps, you might say, I just choose to fool myself with that idea to make it easier - but while in their presence, I sense it to be true. This is why I now call them 'chosen ones'.

I am not painting this month, but I am doing some new drawings. I quickly named this one 'dying woman', perhaps because a relative is dying of cancer, or perhaps because the shepherd artist is recognizing she too is slowly dying, as we all are, and this too might help her resolve her ongoing conflict with the upcoming butchering.

The cloth of heat that came on Thursday has now added a small bucket of humidity to it's fabric, so just walking to the barn has one wet and sticky. Having spent most of my former life on the east and Midwest, I am well aware of what high humidity does to a 100+ degree day. This Oregon "humidity" is nothing, but, it still makes me slur my words and step.

Last nite the heat was overwhelming, and nearby farm friends who have river front next to ours called to tell us to come down to the river and barbecue and go swimming. We shuffled like drunks to the car, and it was a relief the instant my feet went in the river. What a treat to have river front. Thank you. Thank you.

I am planning to paint the small little hooves of Pino Blangiforti next week. I know how happy it makes me to look down at my red toenails, so why not pass this joy on to a little donkey by daisy-izing his little feet.

He sleeps under stars

I awoke on Saturday morning with the same feeling I remember as a child when I knew it was Christmas morning. It is nice to know that through one's life, the same feeling of anticipation can make one get out of bed with a hop and skip. Only this time the present would come to me slowly, as he walked down the gravel road from about 2 miles from our farm up Mt. Richmond. I knew the great package would arrive sometime in the afternoon, which was perfect, as it allowed us to get field work done do barn chores. But as the afternoon wore on, and 2 turned to 3 turned to 4, I had another feeling I remember as a child - fear that Christmas would really never come, or that somehow I would not get what I wanted. I went up to the house at 4 and checked messages - there were non indicating the package deliverers had changed their plans. I was tired from the field work and sun, so lay down to rest in the fan's breeze - but every few minutes I would jump, sure that I heard unusual sounds coming up the driveway. At about 5, Martyn and I sat in the shade and it was then we heard a clip, then a clop, in a slow rhythmic pattern coming up our gravel drive. It was at this precise moment that Pino Blangeforti entered my life, and both our lives are destined to change. For from this day forward, I will have yet another wonderful thing to do with freshly picked daisies - for what face is not just slightly more lovely than when framed in some daisies?

Pino Blangeforti's ancestors hail from Sicily, and his Mediterranean tastes are apparent. He relishes thorny weeds and is not jaded by hot and dry conditions. On his first full night with us, he calmly walked his pasture, and ran the fence line just as he should when he heard strange dogs barking. He had a sky of stars that he chose to sleep under, and he brayed at 2 am, and 4 am, and then again at dawn - and each time I heard it, I couldn't wait for morning to see him again. When I greeted him around 7, he smelled a bit skunky, and I praised him for keeping the skunk form entering the barn. Today after working with Sky all morning, I took Pino Blangiforti for a long walk down the road where we stopped often to admire the wind in weeds, and he tasted his new surroundings. We returned to watch Martyn working on the old barn, and sat in shade where Pino leaned on me and fell asleep standing as I brushed him.

Being a loyal creature by nature, I love my husband and am committed to him and always will be. But I must admit this, both to myself and now you, kind readers - I am also in love with a donkey.

Friday night gala in Atlanta

If you happen to be in or near Atlanta, you can visit Dalton Cowan Gallerie in Tula Art Center on Friday night, July 14th from 6 PM to 10 PM to see some of my large abstract canvases and also view the featured works by Atlanta artist Laura Bowman. Her series of textural landscapes entitled Moments in Nature will accompany new works by Stephanie Dalton, myself, Craig LaRotonda and Kim Maria. Also featuring custom designed boxes and frame samples created by frame designer and gallery director: Robert Cowan. This Friday Gallery Walk at Tula Art Center coincides with the Atlanta Gallery Association Introductions [06]. At Lowe Gallery, (just a few doors down from Dalton Cowan Gallerie), there will be a featured exhibit of Chihuly Glass Sculptures. An artist of this nature draws in an eclectic and serious crowd of Art + Gallery enthusiasts. Every gallery at Tula will be participating in the Open House and a full crowd is expected. Wine, chocolates and specialty drinks will be served throughout the gallery spaces.

I wish I could be there, in a clean dress, sans-manure boots, but I will most likely be lying on the couch, sipping Pinot, trying to get the dirt out of my nails. I'll be there in spirit, as will all the weeds and dirt of my land which grace the paintings currently hanging there. Cheers to Stephanie and Rob for doing so much in such a short time with their space - it is beautiful with an energy that will draw people to them, around them and back again.

Wrapped in a horse

I like this picture. It was taken on our open father's day farm weekend by Anna who came by while vacationing on the beach. I think we look like us, and happy.

The harvest continues. I find that being out in the field after 7pm is a wonderful time. The air and sky are nice, heat is gone, just a nice time. We have to cut a small amount of Grosso, but then are left to let our main bud variety of about 1000 plants sit and dry on the plant more, and then we will cut and hang them, and eventually de-bud and put that bud in bags for storage and selling. One of the old farmers came by and asked us 'is there a market for lavender" in sort of a sarcastic voice. I told him there was and that lavender has a lot of value added potential, meaning it can create many products from one crop. Yet another rather tongue-in-cheek tone came out of him as he asked, "What's value added?" like we were crazy city kids getting in on those crazy trends...I often feel like a fish out of water out here, as we chip away at our weeding without any tractor yet, maintaining our fields by hand on our own without spray. We often joke, wondering what kind of creature Fred Flintstone would have to farm lavender.

My head is full of hay dust, and it feels sort of fogged. The dust of summer is everywhere now, on the country roads, in my car, in the fields. August is looming, always my most challenging month. It took me years to figure out I make really bad decisions in August, usually because I am hot, and I don't like being hot. Things seem dried up and parched. When I still lived in NYC, it was in August that I knew I had to leave the city for good, as a cab nearly ran me over, and I kicked it [it didn't bother stopping] and I knew I had lost my city 'edge' - or did I gain myself and say, 'what am doing here anymore?' - I prefer the latter answer. So, two weeks before August, I am preparing, can feel the heaviness of the month coming - my senses are off, my beat is clumsy. I feel a need to rest and let my roots get water where they can. I want to be with my horse, and I am gravitating to her. We are both 'in training' and working with a local trainer, working on ground basics, starting all over together like two babies in a round pen. She is magnificent, even while misbehaving.

Peace out loud and some bees

I am very pleased that some of my Goats for Peace buttons are on their way to Rhode Island to one of the teachers at the Nonviolvence Institute. This organization continues to teach the methods and traditions of nonviolent communication that spring from the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr. By teaching through examples the principles and practices of non-violence, the organization believes they can foster communities that address potentially violent situations with nonviolent solutions. In some small little way, the goats' campaign is working, spreading slowly like dandelion seed. It hasn't reached North Korea yet, unfortunately. Or D.C. for that matter...but we'll keep on, and you can too.

In the meantime, you can buy a 10 pack, or even a 100 pack of the buttons, and pass them out at your picnics and barbecues and block parties. Pay no mind if people laugh and think it's a joke. That's ok. Humor can only help the cause, as it helps people relax. Just a week ago, I was chatting with a local farmer and he saw my 'Goats for Peace' button on the straw hat I was wearing. He read it out loud, and chuckled. Then we went on to talk about hay or something. But it's the fact that he said the word "peace" out loud that is so important. For if you say 'peace' out loud, it sends the energy of that specific word's essence to your heart, and it will grow into something with that essence - because stuff in your heart just doesn't sit there, it grows.
So it was with peace in my heart that I worked in the lavender field, thinking of other peace ambassadors on the farm. And I think the "Bees of Apifera" need to have a button too. They not only do their work peacefully side by side all over the farm, but they work in peace with us as we harvest the lavender. I have also learned that the bees show us when the lavender plants are ready to be harvested for dried bundles. You see, you want to cut that lavender at the optimum moment of nectar so the bundle, once dried, will have a good amount of oil/sweet smell to it. Once the lavender stalks shoot up, their buds sit waiting to open. If you go into the field during the warmer part of morning and there are no bees buzzing, the plants aren't ready. I had been checking our lavender Hidcote variety each day, and the bees weren't buzzing yet - until yesterday. So, "thank you bees" - what magnificent little beings. They make a cool sound, help make honey for heaven's sake, and they help this old, green farm girl know when to cut her crop - all the while not swarming and creating a violent upheaval.

Meanwhile, we continue to harvest our lavender crop. This year we have 1500 plants at almost full maturity. It takes me 1 hour to harvest 2 rows and another hour or more to rubberband them and hang them for drying. There are about 50 more rows to do. Next year, in '07 it'll be 3x that. Are we down hearted? NO! I am so naive in forgetting how intense the harvest is. But seeing how large the yields are compared to last year and working amongst my bee friends, many whom I remember from last year - all in a field we get to steward - this is a good way to spend the 4th.

Heat Rising into the Sky

It is the third day of 100 degree heat. I am pretty much useless after 85, so at a certain point in the day, I just sort of...disappear. This morning I did barn chores early, and even then the heat coming from all directions onto my body, from both earth and sky, was intense. While we don't have the humidity , thankfully, like we did in my old prairie homeland of Minnesota, it is still hot. It reminds me of when I visited Arizona in August, and everyone kept telling me, "But it's a dry heat", and finally, after hearing that 100 times, I blurted out, "I don't care if it's a dry heat, it's 110 in the shade, it's [blank] hot!"

The barns takes on a whole new dimension in the heat. The hay side is intensely hot, and Martyn assures me as long as the bales were dry when we put them in the barn [which they were], that they won't explode. The cats move to get their morning feed, but you can find them lounging in the most glorious poses languishing in the hot air. The goats don't jump out of bed in the morning, and Sky was already hot to the touch. I hosed her down yesterday, and will again today. Last nite we took Huck to the river front and went swimming with him the first time. We all stood in the navel deep water, and our neighbors on the adjoining river front came down to greet us. We all stood around in the water and visited. Country time, man.

In the meantime, I am moving very slowly, getting ready to start two new canvases for Atlanta. So far, I've taken the roll of canvas out to cut it. That took all morning, as I opted to post 5 new pieces on the store site [under originals]. This barn painting demonstrates that which I have mentioned before - that when I paint a piece one day, it is often a subconscious realization of an upcoming event; For when I painted this a few weeks ago it was cool and I yearned somewhat for more warmth- Now when I look at it, I can see the heat rising into the darkening sky, just as it did last night.

Home

As the picture shows, the Big guy is home. We are considering changing his name to "The Million Dollar Cat", as his vet bill was a tad higher than I had hoped for - I won't share it with you as you will all think I've lost my mind. The clinic where I vet my dogs and barn cats were wonderful, as always - thank you Carlton Vet, I know you threw in some extra attention and service.

The outpouring of donations definitely helps put a nip in Tony's vet bill, and I can't thank people enough, over and over.

For those of you who donated, I will be getting your print/story off to you in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile it is over 90 and the heat will continue into the next week. I worked an hour in the field and melted, literally, as my Irish skin just can't handle heat. So I am taking the opportunity to work in the shade today - I am busy training Tony how to fold and toss a newspaper, as I am hoping I can get him a paper route to earn some of his keep here.

Sustain thyself

"If you don't enjoy your lifestyle, it will not sustain itself".
Such a simple statement with such truth. I read this in a website of a farm that is practicing sustainable living. So many people write and tell me they envy my life, living in the country on a farm with animals and painting. I strongly believe that if one truly desires something, they will attain it, they will unconsciously direct themselves or be directed to people, places and events that open doors for them or lead to the desired thing. I have desired this lifestyle since I was a young child. It took many steps and side journeys to get here. If you're just tire kicking, you won't bring home the car that day.

We've been here 2 years, and I can say that this month more than ever I am feeling in a total flow with my life and our life here on the farm. The farm and the lavender are interconnected with the animals we raise and care for and feed my soul which nurtures the art, and then the art is sold. Those paintings that emote my deepest feelings for this place, its animals, plants, weeds and crops are sent out into the world, to Japan and Vermont and Des Moines and Atlanta and it spreads that energy. This is part of why I am here, I don't need to question that anymore like I might have 10 years ago. The people that receive that art, and care for it in their homes, they in turn share an energy with it, they get to have their own relationship with it. Like raising the child as best you can, and sending them off on their own at 19, you always have your signature on them, but they take on a life force of their own.

The farm event was so special. The pony rides were a huge hit with all ages, the weather cooperated, people came from all over, with lots of little children who came to see a farm and animals. What Apifera Farm is to the outside world is formulating, and we are not just a lavender farm, for we, care for many animals and we will propagate plants and we care for the earth and will share any bounty we might mange in years to come - and we sell art that celebrates it. We met wonderful people, interesting people, and one of the most exciting for me was a couple who had just moved to our area from England where he was a real, live SHEPHERD - I acted like a was meeting Neil Young. But it was so exciting! We are not only meeting, but slowly forming bonds and friendships with other couples who are farming on a small scale, or raising animals. It is really, really rewarding, full filling. I am in love with this farm, I am in love with the daily chores. Actually, 'in love' is too weak a term to use, as 'in love' connotates the beginning, immature stages of a deeper committed love. I must rephrase it to say, I love this farm, I am committed now to this farm. This is not a temporary dilly dally in the country, this is not a foolish-young woman attempt to try living with someone prematurely - this is a life I chose, carefully, with much attention and thought, and an understanding of what I needed and wanted. It took years to get here. And the journey goes on.

And part of this journey will include, always, many cats to care for. I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the incredible outpouring of support I have received in the past three days for Big Tony.I am so blown away. Thank you. I needed help, I asked, and it rained on me. The update as of this writing is that Big Tony is still in the hospital, BUT, he is hopefully coming home Friday. He was doing much better on Wednesday after heavier meds and more aggressive sedations - we are hopeful this is the beginning of real healing. I haven't received today's update, but am for the first time breathing easier. One of my cat supporters suggested I look into a 501K for the work I'm doing with the cats, and I have already contacted my accountant. I know I can do so much more to help animals. I am 48 and I have so much to do and give to them. I know my art will help in this cause too. I'd like to help ferels as well as neglected farm animals.

But right now, I'm going to eat some left over salad of our fresh grown butterhead, nurtured along by our sheep manure and water that sits deep under the soil of Apifera.

Big Tony, please come home

Many of you know Big Tony from my story over on Animals of Apifera, and some of you have even been lucky enough to have been graced by a personal introduction to him at our farm. Big Tony is the King, he is the one, he rules, he rocks. He is King of the new barn where 10 of the barn/ferels sleep, he is King of the front porch where Little Orange, Blackberry, Pumpkin Head and Mama sleep. He is King of our house now, where he comes and goes at his whim, sometimes reclining on the bed, sometimes on a chair by a fire. He eats on a counter and is in his eyes, is elevated in his position in our farm and home. He adores Martyn. He is at the top of the hierarchy of all animals here on the farm, including Huck and Billy. He is even above the other big man, Joe Pye Weed. Tony does not need to scream this from any balcony, he oozes this fact - it is like they would say about someone like Ghandi or JFK - you just know you are in the presence of a higher energy. Some animals have it, and Big Tony is one.

Big Tony came down with a serious infection of the urethra last week. He has been in the hospital since, and they are having trouble keeping his bladder empty. It's common among neutered male cats, often is diet related, and can usually be controlled once the initial blockage and infection is taken care of. They just can't seem to get to that point, but I am remaining hopeful. Of course, all this is costing money, and I put out the word yesterday to an email list of customers and cat lovers and friends - 'please, help if you can', and I want to say, yesterday was a day of many tears of gratitude. Some of you I knew well, some not so well, but each penny and dollar helps so much. Big Tony is my responsibility, but we have been helping so many area cats, that this incident tapped me dry. I reached out and asked for donations for Big Tony's rising vet bill, and people have responded. I am just so grateful. It means a lot that people understand how much time,effort and love I put into the ferels and helping them. I will always always reach out to animals. It is a gift for the animal, but more than that, a gift for me to have this affinity.

If you want to donate money to help defray the cost of the vetting, you can visit the katherinnedunn.net site and go to Farm Whim section and donate online. Or email me if you prefer a check. I am sending all donaters a small archive print of the piece I recently did of Big Tony, along with the story of him [which you can read on the Animals of Apifera site.] I will post immediately when, hopefully, he gets home.

I am still working [slowly, I know] on my escrow fund idea for helping other people with spaying/neutering ferels/strays, but right now, I need to focus on the King. I have gathered a lot of support.

I wanted to write about farm event - which was a huge success - and I will later this week. So many cool things happened and I need to digest it all to write about it. But for now, my heart is wrapped up in a cat, that I care about, and that cat's energy has power and purpose. I want Big Tony home, back on the farm.

Conscious land

This farm has a conscious.
We watched "Farmer John" this week and that thought has been on my mind since. This farm, indeed, does have a conscious.

It is all connected, every element of it a thought that pops into my head often. As I muck the horse stall, I take the uneaten hay and toss it into the sheep for bedding, which turns into compost that covers the vegetable bed. We ate lettuce last night from it, it felt healing. The small farm used to take care of communities and families on a direct basis. Now people eat unconsciously, not knowing where it was grown or how, and much of it is grown not on a farm but in a factory. Farmer John recognized this many times, and lived it, and lived through the '80's while farmers around him went under. But he turned it around. There's a solution to very problem if you think creatively and openly. It took a lot of courage to do what he did,and ingenuity,and hard work. Now he is helping feed people, and educate people from the city - that farm is helping people.

I do not have the adequate time or energy to write a proper post - the farm event this weekend" is keeping me on overdrive - but I wanted to write that. This farm is leading me, us somewhere. Just as it heals us, we are healing it - as it sat so neglected for years. It is a long road ahead for us. But like Farmer John said, it is almost as if the farm tells you, guides you, with what to do. It inspired both of us to continue to work toward our plan of being more sustainable, and then taking that ability and sharing it somehow with a small community.

I think that movie should be required for school children, and then again to 20 year olds with all the answers, and again at 30 when you know you don't have the answers, and again, every decade of one's life - to give courage and inspiration. It is a beautiful, moving, inspiring story of a boy who grows up, a family, a farm, and the struggle, fall and eventual triumph of all.

It also inspired me as an artist - as one can feel like an outcast, odd, 'she's different', quirky, weird, etc,...But you have to find your own beat and drum it out loud, with head up high even while the neighbors snicker at the church social.