The Third Act

Monday...

It's back to summer...hot and humid.  The plants are carrying on, though, doing what they do.  There are sunflowers twice my height and a multitude of small yellow blooms that feed the goldfinches.  Echinacea and anise hyssop also hang on to their blossoms, feeding a variety of pollinators.  The first fig ripened the other day and I'm waiting on more.  While the vegetable garden isn't producing an abundance, the plants themselves seem healthy, which tells me the soil is improving.

Thinking ahead to next year, I consider the effect of more light when the dogwood is removed, leaving space for the trees already planted around it...persimmon, apricot, plum and pomegranate.  I'll also need to get aggressive with containing some of the more rambunctious spreading perennials and self seeders.  I did better this year, but it has still become a jungle (sometimes I feel like it's similar to adjusting for exposure in making a photograph, and being too timid to go one way or another).  More of the lawn may be whittled away and containers procured and arranged.  I think my goal might be to create a manageable but highly productive space, keeping it natural and beautiful.  While I enjoy my gardening efforts, there are two concerns...one is that it's just super hard to be out in the heat and humidity for any length of time (I'm not getting any younger) and two, I'm neglecting making art because of such intensive work with the plants.  So, I need to plan better and smarter. Perhaps being a bit more organized would help too.

I listened to a BBC radio story on the  UN Report on Climate Change as I was running errands.  What I heard was not surprising, but nonetheless depressing.  It can feel so helpless to be one single individual making attempts to live a sensitive life in this regard.  There are still too many people who don't believe climate change is real, who don't believe the scientists, or simply have other interests that make them not care.  It's numbing. So I do the best I can.  And tending to my garden is one of the things that feels proactive and healing overall.

 

 

 

 

and the rain rain rain...

Whenever it rains hard I think of Winnie the Pooh.  How weird is that?  The little ditty from the cartoon starts running through my head.  A sixty two year old woman having a song from a cartoon becoming an earworm...who woulda thought?

The rain is coming down with moderate intensity today.  I'm glad to have gotten what I did, done in the garden yesterday.  A good soaking is well received by all the flora.  It amazes me just how green everything turns after only an hour or two of rain.

The temperature is quite lovely as well.  Low 70s.  The windows are open and when it's not actually pouring, the sound of the rain is nice.  Neither Avery nor I like loud downpours.

I've decided to make kitchri with mung dal and brown rice and have that started in the slow cooker.  There's a random assortment of veggies from the garden that I'll supplement with potatoes and cook spicy to have over the kitchri.  It seems a good day for warm food.

It's odd to note the waves of energy and enthusiasm, punctuated with feeling like I want to cry or take a nap, that seem to be occurring.  I say it's odd, but it's not necessarily uncomfortable or unpleasant.  Change is hard and the energy it takes to make the effort is bound to be erratic.  Which reminds me, I need to get my colored pencils and pad situated so it's easy to work on drawings.  Setting things up so there's less work involved to actually do things seems to be wise (making a mental note for myself).

Wherever you are, I hope your Saturday is peaceful and pleasant.

 

 

 

Friday

One week of August just about over.  Before you know it...autumn.

I worked a few hours out in the garden today.  There were lots of weeds to pull.  There was lots of cutting back and mulching to do.  My mind races ahead to fall clean up and then changes to the garden for next year, mulling over what went well and what could use some help from this year.

My moods are swinging.  I have no idea why.  Maybe I just felt tired today from the get go...not sure.  Maybe that means there are better days happening so the off days are more meh.

Here are a few more images from the Holga on monochrome film...some with a lil bit of camera shake (trying to hold steady with the bulb setting and not quite successful)...Library of Congress and the National Gallery of Art.

 

 

 

 

 

Holga

I finally processed the two rolls of black and white film that I shot in the Holga a few weeks ago.  Boy, I'm out of practice!  I think I say that every time I return to a form that I've not worked with for a while.  I mean, it makes sense.  But...dagnabbit...I want my vision to manifest exactly as I see it, with no effort!  I need to load up my camera(s) a lot more often.  In addition, perhaps one of my goals before the end of the year should be to put together my enlarger.

Here's a funny thing to note...  I'm reading Michael Pollan's new book, This is Your Mind On Plants.  I'm just wrapping up the section on caffeine.  Right now, in this moment, as I write this post, I'm feeling the strong tea I just consumed spreading through my body.  In my head, I'm feeling much more enthusiastic and hopeful about art, photography, and creativity.  Hence the current inspiration to shoot more and actually start printing.  Sadly, this feeling won't last.  That being said, I do know that the more I practice the form the more satisfied I'll be with the results.  So...what does that all mean?  I don't know for sure, it's just my experience in this moment.

And to finish up this wildly random entry...it's another beautiful morning!  How glorious to have the doors and windows open for more than one day in a row at the beginning of August.  Dare I say, it feels slightly like autumn...just a taste.  Sure, it will change in another day, that's a given.  But I'm so very grateful for a short reprieve from the heat and humidity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in the living room

I have a nice view out my living room window.  The front yard is large and at this time of year the tall plants in my garden almost obscure my neighbor's driveway across the street.  The large red oak at the corner of the lot shields the sunrise a bit, but there's still plenty of sky to get a taste.  These days I've taken to spending the bulk of my time in the living room rather than my creative space downstairs.  I'm not quite sure what's up with that.  Maybe just having been isolated for the many months of the pandemic and my continued solitary life, make me want to feel closer to civilization.  I don't know.  If I were truly engaged with my creative work right now, I'd be spending more time where all my supplies are.  Truth is, the ambivalence to making art continues.

Today I did process two rolls of black and white film.  The negatives look somewhat mediocre, but I won't know for sure until I scan them.  So...that was something.  There are four rolls of color film to send out as well, all pinholes, which is next on my art to do list.

Alas, the Wednesday writing exercise felt like a crash and burn.  Something happened and I completely lost the thread and was unable to pick it back up.  I mean, I know we're instructed to write as badly as possible, but the hope is that within that looseness some gems will appear.  Not so with this effort.  Ah well, another day.

 

 

 

 

wild writing (8/3)

When I can no longer wake and immerse myself in the birdsong…. When I can’t seem to delight in the feeling of moving air on my skin on a particularly cool summer morning…. When the day ahead seems to hold no flavor or enthusiasm…. I know this is temporary. I know that I’ve not slept well, or am sore from four hours in the garden the previous day. Or it might simply be the trough that comes, because it can be so exhausting to hold myself up all the time.

 

It’s not because I want too much, or take for granted my great privilege. It’s not because I’m lacking insight. It’s because mental health can be a bitch and is something I’ll always be tending to.

 

Life is a gift, so full of so many gifts. Once the tea kicks in or there’s a sweet message from a friend…. Once sleep has graced me with its sublime presence for a night or two in a row…everything is that much rosier.

 

When conditions are just right, that’s when the dawn holds promise, when obstacles seem surmountable, when I feel connected and full of purpose. At these times my body feels lighter, freer, and I sink into the deep stretches, warm breath into the tight spots, so grateful to note that flexibility can return. The morning cuppa tastes better, smokier with honeyed sweetness. The cloudy sky presents a blessing, shielding the plants for a day from the wilting heat. The jay’s constant, scratchy jabber is funny then, and not annoying. The hawk’s cries are transcendent. The yellow daisy-like sunflowers, bobbing in the breeze, become a fine place to rest my gaze as the spent blossoms feed all the little finches.

 

On the days, or in the moments, when that place of repose is arrived at, nothing is short of miraculous, nothing is taken for granted.

 

But this is life, the ebb and flow. It’s okay, I tell myself (constantly) to be dissatisfied, to have everything turn to straw. It’s especially okay because I know that it’s normal and natural and is part of the process of being human…and it will change.

 

 

 

 

heavy rains

Heavy rains fell in the early hours of the morning.  The weather forecast indicated there might be a slight chance of a tornado.  When I woke about 4:30 am, I didn't really go back to sleep.  The rain was loud and being slightly on edge I just laid and listened, let my mind wander, stretched my body and found all the aching parts.  It really was okay, though.

Now all the plants are happy and green.  The four holes I dug yesterday (having removed tenacious root balls of akuba...hence the aching parts mentioned above) and filled with a layer of rotted wood and comfrey leaves, are well soaked.  I think I'll head to Lowe's some time this morning for planting mix and a trellis or two to prop against the side of the screened porch.  I'll look for jasmine plants as well...two jasmine to flank the passion vine.  A rose may go in the last hole right next to the gate.

This week is supposed to be cooler.  With temperatures topping out anywhere from the high 70s to the mid 80s during the day and the 60s at night, it should be pleasant.  I have to say, when it gets cooler like this and the humidity drops, it's a lovely teaser for autumn.