The fields are alive with love making

As I entered the old barn, I looked up to see three separate groups of ewes. I looked at the list of names on the wall that I had posted, looked down at Frankie The Head Troll, and asked her if she had anything to do with this. While she didn't admit anything, nor did the sheep, I suspect it went something like this...

It was that one day of the year that was filled with a mix of emotions for the ladies, their anxiety blanketed in their always calm faces. As each one proceeded up to the list of names posted on the old barn wall, the others waited patiently to see who they would spend the next 45 days with.

"I really want Little Walter," said Betty.

"Everyone wants Little Walter," said Bessie, her sister.

Etsy shop is relaunched

I took some time off from Etsy, but with the holidays approaching and the economy slumping, I thought I'd add to the Etsy bandwagon again and relaunch my shop.

I'll be making more Raggedy Folk Dolls and Aprons [with collaged donkey art and more ideas percolating]. There are small and large prints for every budget. Some illustrated fabric items will be posted too as they are made.

Of course you can always buy my high end originals at my main art site.

Meanwhile, in the barnyard...all the ladies - sheep ladies, that is - are highly anticipating the annual posting of who gets to make love to which ram. There is a lot of whispering and anticipation this year with Little Walter's arrival. He is quite the looker. Stay tuned.

The Itty things in life

I have returned from cloud dancing. The faces I left were all there to greet me, including Itty. Cloud dancing was relaxing and nice, and the perspective of my world here was freshened. I am spending what is our first rainy day, holed up in the barn with my flock, trimming feet and worming them. This is a good way to reground to my land and life here, after floating above the palm trees and ocean for 3 days.

Cloud dancing, I am

Going cloud dancing,

staying up there for awhile.

I won't be looking down for quite a few days.

Going to make my hat a wing 

 

and my skin the sky.

I'll come down later next week  

 

after I feel free again.

Miss Peach pointed her tail this a way

Miss Peach and I spent all morning arranging names on a white wall. I wrote each name in a different color of chalk. Then When Miss Peach pointed at a name with her tail, it would be marked in a a specific chalk color. I got this idea from the marking harness for a ram during breeding season. It worked swimmingly.

Aura of the workshop lingers

Scroll down to see the video of images and art from the workshop.

I am bathing in gratitude, not only for the guests that participated in my workshop this past weekend, but in my life, my farm and my animals. I had many private moments of pride for the donkeys and other creatures who all seemed to rise to the occasion in one way or another.

The donkeys are naturals, they needed no prodding to share themselves. They never wavered from their duties as silent healers and conduits for inner peace. I am especially proud of Matilda - I had moments of my chest swelling to the clouds as I watched her to go up to different guests, place her nose on their shoulder, stand patiently with her eyes showing of her soul. Many spoke of Matilda through out the day.

Stevie also partook, and won a few hearts. This too made me swell for him too. Old Man Guinnias also was a favorite in our barnyard session as one Rosie and her varied language.

I want to give a special thank you to Roy, a guest on Saturday, who agreed, on the spot, to a mediation and grace to Giacomo at his grave site within the donkey area. We gathered around the grave, and Roy led us into our inner eyes and minds, and we all became part of Giacomo. The old donkey we lost too soon was defiantly with us and his spirit was as non threatening and non judgmental as it always was - just like Pino, Paco, Lucia and Matilda. He knows me.

Miss Peach has been delayed

Miss Peach appreciates all the nice thoughts and notes from people on her arrival to Apifera. She will be pointing her tail at a name and sending off a "Love Floats" book to one person. We intended this tail pointing to occur this week, but so as not to be rushed, we will be doing this next week, we promise. So you can still participate in Miss Peach's tail pointing exercise by visiting this blog post.

Thank you to all her current supporters. Stay tuned until next week.

Pino flies on chickens and other stuff

I always admire how calm every creature remains when a big event is coming up, like Pie Day or the Workshop. The Dirt Farmer is the same way, calm oh calm, no reason t scurry around and clean and fuss and prep - no, it all gets done...somehow.

Um, I'm the somehow...that would be me scurrying around and prepping.

So I told Pino,

"Look, my little sage, you must promise to be here in the morning on Saturday, and not late from one of your early pre-dawn rides with Jane." 

Jane is a hen. They often fly off together to dream and scout new shrubs they might like to nap near.

I meanwhile am all excited for the arriving Workshop people on Saturday and Sunday. It appears to be an eclectic group, just the way we like it in our barnyard of misfits. My task today is simple: bring the pumpkins in so they can commune with us while we eat lunch. Okay, there are other things to do, but hoisting those pumpkins over Boone's fence will take some doin'.

I shall not write until next week after the Workshop magic has been blown off my skin. I never shower immediately after an event, I like to maintain the Payne's Gray dusty glow for at least a day.

When old goats do comb overs

Honey Boy is not worried about aging for he has all he needs to feel safe and secure- warm shelter in the wind, shade in the sun, food in is stomach, fresh water on demand, someone to scratch the out of way places and cross species companionship.

But what many of you might not know is Honey Boy also sports a natural comb over. He wears it very well and hopes someone might take notice of him at this weekend's Workshop, perhaps capture the essence of it in chalk on paper.

I heard, one moment

I heard the sound of hens rushing over fallen leaves packed crisply into dirt, 'Good-byes" whispered from aging sunflowers and an old goat in the distance eating the last string beans hanging overripe on it's vine.

Miss Elberta Peach is here

Note: Miss Peach pointed her tail on 9/27/11. She's sending "Love Floats" to....well, read more at this post.

Miss Elberta Peach has arrived at Apifera. She wants one of you to get a copy of Love Floats. If you don't know the story, it goes like this:

One day, I was minding my own business, and a cat fell out of the sky...via a casual trip to the vet to pick up dog wormer. I entered the clinic and chatted with the staff at the front desk who know me well after eight years. Just then, a very grumpy woman came in the door and sternly announced she had a stray cat in a trap, in her car, and "was not taking it home no matter what." The staff politely told her they were full up [they already have many cats dumped that they care for until homes are found], and the woman repeated several times she was "NOT bringing that cat back home". We all looked at each other instinctively knowing that cat's fate cat would be a roadside dumping.

"I'll take her, " I said, not knowing what the cat was or what shape it was in.

The clinic was kind enough to take the cat in on the spot and look her over. She was a lovely, tame orange female tabby - quite rare. And she was spayed. She liked to be held too. When the woman trapped her, it was in the middle of a two week heat spell of 95+ degrees, and we think she left the poor cat in the live trap for a couple days - she was panting heavily and was dehydrated.

Since the woman who brought her in was no help in giving us more info about who might own the cat, if anyone, we decided to keep the cat at the clinic to make sure she was okay after her long, hot entrapment, and to see if anyone would claim her. The woman had trapped her just a couple blocks away, and everyone in the small town knows of the only vet clinic so would go there if they lost a cat.

But no one claimed her. So she has been reborn as Miss Elberta Peach.

The vet graciously gave her free room and board for 7 days, and a free exam. But her meds, tests and vaccines cost $98. So, I will send a copy of "Love Floats". to one of you. Just pay your $5 and Miss Peach will point her tail at one of your names later next week. Of course you can pay more, but this makes it easy for everyone to play along with Miss Peach.

Audrey's beauty in blur

I am still learning to work with my macro lens and like to take it into the barnyard, which is a challenge to work with around moving animals.

Although it is too blurry, I found great beauty in this picture of Audrey.

Rosie snorts, Stella smiles

Introducing: "Healing Creatures"

I hope you will visit my "Healing Creatures", an ongoing journey from grief to expanding wings, all with the help of the felted souls birthed in my studio.

The real animals walking around Apifera merge into me and reincarnate themselves in my art. They have strong voices, voices I hear all the time in my head, whether I'm with them or not. My God, they are wise, and entertaining, even in two dimensional form of a drawing.

But like a child cutting figures out of a magazine and trying to make them into paper dolls that can walk, I yearned for my creatures to climb out of the paper and become an entity I could touch, groom and hold.

A beautiful stray cat arrived on my farm three years ago and I set out to pay him homage in a drawing. But I kept seeing my father's face in the cat who had died shortly before. The cat became my father and my father became a felted cat. Soon mice began talking to me.

And then the healing began.

My Old Man

I had a day full of wierd emails, where I felt like I was the only working artist/writer in the world being rejected by...everyone. I suppose that's not logisticaly possible, but that's what it felt like.

So I went to the barnyard, and there he was, still limping along. I sang him the chorus to that old rock song,

"We are the champions, my friend, and we'll keep on fighting 'till the end..."

Ramblings of The Head Troll

The Head Troll, otherwise known as Frankie, has had a busy and prosperous summer. Prosperous because she's managed to eat more than her share of breakfast and dinner, busy because, well, she's the Head Troll, Head Trolls are always busy.

I snapped this picture right as she was showing off some of her best Head Troll qualities - yelling out to any wandering chickens that they better not come cluckin' on her pile of hay. I put hay all around the barnyard which creates a musical-hay- chair-game, with goats scurrying from one pile to the next, usually being prompted by The Head Troll's instruction.

Want to meet The Head Troll? Come to the September Workshop here at Apifera. Of course, she'll ask you want the password is.

Rosie's delight

If you want a smile that will last all day, keep reading, and the next picture, and video, will make your day.

Paco's Poetry Place

As some of you know, Paco has been writing poems for years, unbeknownst to any of us, in his secret hideaway, "The Bower of Love". He likes to recite his poems to Mother Matilda. You can find out why by reading this previous post, which will allow you to shut out the world for five minutes and read a short story.

Brown spots arrive on apples

Our hair grows thick and

tells us of the autumnal gathering of 

pumpkins

I ate a fallen friend today

a sunflower who fell

like a soldier 

after a good life of purpose

Mr. Bradshaw has left

9/15/2011 Post Note!!! Mr. Bradshaw returned to the barnyard after 6 weeks. Where was he? He was fit, happy and unharmed. He was happy to see me, and I him. So next time he disappears, we won't give up hope for at least 6 weeks!

It's been three weeks and Mr. Bradshaw has not returned to Apifera. The last time he left us, he returned and and we were very glad to see him come back.

But he is older now, probably at least eight or more, not bad for a semi feral barn cat. He started out as quite the bully when he first arrived way back in '04 having wandered over to Apifera from one of the many nearby cat colonies. Within time, he warmed and mellowed and I could even pick him up, although not for long. One day I arrived in the barn and he had a gaping wound to the bone and muscle and I never thought I'd safe him from infection, but I did, and the hole closed in time. That was years ago.

Perhaps by writing this it will shake the currents in the air where ever he is, and like Dorothy looking into the Wicked Witch's crystal ball, he'll see me calling for him,

"Mr. Bradshaw, Mr. Bradshaw! Come home, it's late, Where are you?"

Where ever he is, in whatever form, I hope it has the feel of our barn, light coming in from a distant door lighting a chicken companion, and a horse to provide equine aroma.

Granny speaks

Granny was born with missing and crooked teeth, so her tongue always sticks out of her mouth. While this could have led to low self esteem, Granny has never let it bother her, as this short movie will demonstrate.

She also sings, which I was lucky enough to catch in these pictures. It was off key, with a lisp, but I've never heard a more heartfelt version of "Oklahoma" in my life and I saw it performed live in Cavalier, North Dakota.