Taking Flight

"Owl in Flight", 7x5", VClaff, 2012

The white ink on black paper drawings that started as experiments are becoming 

something I'm very intrested in. As I continuded exploring the ink, I began to see 

the subtle layering possibilities when the ink is used at different saturations. The

owl drawing above is one of the latest ones, with more of an understanding of  

the materials. I'm on a quest for the best paper to use, as I've pushed the limits 

of the drawing paper I was using. I think I've found a good option for my drawing 

process and am excited to try it out. The drawing, Barred Owl on Branch, below, 

is one of the earlier ones, and you can see I'm just beginning to play with ink 

saturation. 

"Barred Owl on Branch", 7x5", VClaff 2012

The owls have found their way into my Etsy shop, and because this work is not 

in any of the galleries that represent me, I can offer them at reasonable cost. In fact, 

this is true of most of the work in my shop. To take a look, click here, especially 

if you need a place to spend holiday money! I'm happy to say that the Owl in Flight drawing is flying off to KD at Nomad Dreaming  to live. Her present post shares photos 

of a beautiful, arctic visitor... go take a look! 

 "Forest", VClaff 2012

 "Owl in the Night", 7x5"  VClaff 2012

 "Winter Owl", 10x8", VClaff 2012

I'm offering the two drawings below at a discount because there is slight buckling 

in the paper. They are archival and will be fine, especially if they are matted. 

They will fit in standard mats sized for an 8 x 10" image. These are two of my 

favorites so far and are leading me into the a deeper exploration with the ink. 

The drawings are $95.00 plus shipping. If you are interested, you'll find my email 

listed on my profile page, or leave a comment here with information on how to 

contact you. 

After most of the month with periods of icing and then warming, we now have 

a steady cold upon us. The pre-snow garden was beautiful in its frozen state. 

And I've noticed that I'm looking rather frosty, too, 

now that my hair matches my gray woolen cap. 

Tucked in there, under the frozen, bending 

hemlocks is the studio, see it?

After celebrating a lovely Solstice with a small group ritual in the studio, 
I raced off the following day to get my father at the airport. We had our 
traditional Christmas Eve dinner with my sister and her family - the roast beef, 
Yorkshire Pudding, and home-made busch de noel was well worth the long drive!
(well, and the presents, too!) Dad and I shared a cold Christmas reading and 
walking and being quiet by the fire. 

I gave Dad two of my newer paintings - always good to give 

flat gifts for those flying long distances!

The snows came just in time for Dad to have his once a year 

shoveling experience, just so he doesn't forget how to. 

There was lots more reading by the fire after that. 

And for some older furry ones, there was much watching

from the window. 

Below - subject of watcher. 

 We stopped at the family mausoleum on Dad's way back to 

the airport. Its an impressive building that I haven't seen  

since I was a small child. Mom is buried outside, she wanted 

earth and not stone. I spread lots of birdseed cause she was 

an avid bird-watcher just like the old furry one. 

Dropped Dad at my sister's for an early morning airport run.... 

here's a goofy, blurry photo, just in case you think that the mood around 

here is mostly like the last post, don't worry, there's plenty of the below stuff, too. 

Back in the hills, winter snows and cold have settled in. 

I've shoveled a lot since Dad left only a few days ago. 

After all the shoveling, I have a warm, furry laptop. Way 

more soothing than the shiny, aluminum kind! He stays just long enough, 

then heads to his little rug once I'm warmed up a bit. Luckily the fire doesn't 

really escape the wood stove, just the heat. 

Wolves at the Door

Hare and Bone and Hide

There is a place I visit 

when weary in my heart,

of who we have become 
and how we have forgotten. 

The journey there is long, 

through cave, 
mountain, 
and remembering.

 I crunch through lightly falling snow, 

trail of woodsmoke 
and cedar scented air. 

Wind blows delicate flakes in bursts 
and breathes through tribes of swaying, reaching pines. 

It is night. 

When I reach the glowing shelter, 

flakes die, stars are born. 

Soft drumbeats and low voices 

hum together from inside. 

I bend and enter 

a flickering world of fire and women, 

wrapped in blankets and furs, 

singing songs of moss.

Hair and bone and hide

bound and tethered and known. 

I sit without a word, meeting 

- soul to soul-

the ancient one, 

keeping rhythm with antler 

and broken heart. 

Gentle sounds of rattles, 

shake me into presence. 

I am here, as I am, 

nothing more to do or say or be. 

The eyes of each one gathered here,

 knows of death, 

and of going beyond. 

A raw, 
exquisite knowing - running through the forest, 

hunting a life worth living,

glancing and grinning, 

at the toothless shadowed one, 

running along beside. 

Breathing together in this circle, 

drums and rattles and crows,

building, weaving, praying,

there is no forgetting who I am, 

or what I am to do, 

or that

 owls,

bears, 

and stones, 

are breathing 

with 

me, too.

I wrote this back in 2010, and posted it here then, too. It felt appropriate for today. 

Connecticut is not far from here  (for those of you from over the seas and far away), 

it is a neighboring state. The school where the shooting took place yesterday is one 

that a friend of a friend's niece went to until last year. So, this is close. But I have 

been in my own wave of grief the past few days - as it is with grief, coming and 

going - and find I can't crack open any more to hold this new, massive weight. 

I'm aware of it, but it is distant, not mine, I'm sticking with mine for now. 

Last night I had a dream of wolves at the door. First, I opened the front door to see a man in camouflage, carrying a rifle, walking close to the house. I thought to myself that I'd never seen a hunter so close, and closed the door and wondered. Then I looked out and saw two, huge wolves and several of their young. I was excited - for if there are wolves here, it means the forest is healthy, that there is enough prey for one of the larger predators. Then I thought of my Pasha cat and his forest wanderings - he's the closest thing I have to a child. I thought about the added risk of letting him out with wolves around. 

The truth is, I have been hearing what sounds an awful lot like Wolf howls in the night. They are not reported to be here, but, I think they may be moving in. Its quite something to let one's beloved out of sight, into the world - be it forest with wolves, or the world... 

White Owls and The Magic of Speed, Light & Looking

A deep and heartfelt thank you to all of your comments on my last post. I've even 

received emails from bloggers checking in, making sure I'm OK, wanting to connect 

in a more personal way than in a comment. I was quite moved and thank you all for 

your thoughts and well wishes. 

I haven't done much in the studio, still needing to spend time wih my deep feelings, 

and managing some debilitating fatigue. But at this time of the semester, my 

students are working on final projects leaving lots of space for me to draw in class. 

I've been wanting to try white ink on black paper, so here are my owl and tree doodles 

of the last few weeks. They are related to my scratchbord drawings in that they 

are black and white, so I'm interested in taking them further and possibly playing 

with white acrylic ink with the scratchbord. When I'm back in the studio - this 

week, I'm praying! - I'll give that a try. 

A burst of snow and cold at the start of December seems a distant memory, as
relative warmth, rains and mists have filled in the rest of the days. Today the 
sun came out and the forest sparkled and Pasha and I had an afternoon wander. 

Fungus and circles on logs and a tree full of lines slowed our wander to a 
slow meander. Pasha, always the gentlecat, doesn't ever seem to mind the slow 
pace while I'm looking. He finds something to investigate, or dashes up and down 
tree trunks to get the most out of the adventure. Of course, for a cat, vertical miles 
are just as easily accessed as horizontal ones. 

He waits patiently at times, too, not suspecting that he is the subject of my 
gaze. 

Before I started the white ink owl drawings, I set up a small set on the windowsill 
at school, and looked closely at my collection of drawing objects through the 
eye of the camera. Dried jewel weed, tomatillo husks, a willow leaf and the 
mysterious weed that made such wonderful lanterns in the last post were the 
most agreeable subjects. 

One thing led to another, and I've been playing with the camera more than 

with ink and brush. Below is a series of images investigating light and speed. 

The first was made on a particularly beautiful afternoon in the forest. I 

moved the camera slightly in an arc as I was shooting. Then the idea took off 

and I've been taking photos on my home commute in the fading light. 

(I love the one below, notice the instrument lights!)