Summer solstice was a warm, sunny day. A small group gathered here for a fire to
celebrate the longest day and witness it fade into night. The frogs and bird songs
were particularly beautiful, seeming always to punctuate moments when deep truths
were spoken and prayers given to the fire with handfuls of fragrant herbs. I thought
about having my camera with me, but being present in the moment always takes
precedence over recording our ritual. The following day brought back the heavy
rains, feeling more like autumn than summer. My sister and niece came for an
overnight and we tucked into the house for cozy reading and tea. We did have one
outside adventure to the gorge - a very wet walk along the cliffs. An unsteady
moment while taking the photo above captures the day much better than any
of the others I think!
A surprise to find a turned leaf already. The color captivated me
and the little eye near the top got me wondering....
Being quite sensitive to the mold spores that have blossomed in this wet,
I had a slow day of rest and listening and found myself thinking a lot about
beauty. I'm often shocked when a colleague at the university makes a statement
about a piece of student work " It lacks depth - its just too pretty". I understand
what is meant, but what shocks me is that often this criticism is given to work
that is intuitive and mysterious and to my eyes, beautiful. It seems that in
the university, beauty is not okay anymore, and hasn't been for a long time.
I find myself out on a limb, fighting for the work of a student who has delved into
an authentic dance with beauty, and it seems only a few others recognize the
I think being an artist is about pollinating the world with beauty,
and what comes of walking in the world with the senses wide open is