i wonder if i will make it without...
will i slip back into the darkness?
will the light bleed from me and leave me vacant?
or is it really mine?
***
visual journal entry
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visual journal entry
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it isn't the way i thought it would be,
but it's the only thing i can do.
i just can't wait for you.
and yet, sometimes I feel like you are almost here.
***
visual journal entry
122709
~one day~
mixed media collage on found book cover
122709
We made it through the day! Ma and I worried we would return to the dark depths that we visited over Thanksgiving so we planned a very different Christmas. We headed out to Point Reyes for a beautiful hike and then a simple meal out at a cafe. We stopped in Inverness first, to visit an old boat in Tomales Bay that has been claimed by the elements. I have visited it many times but never had a decent camera to capture it's beauty. I thought of Pa often. The last time I visited this old boat we had a picnic there together. I knew he would have loved the day today~ the brilliant blue sky, the gentle ocean wind, the warm sun, the pounding surf, and the contrasting vibrant green fields and dried grasses. I spotted him flying over head, the lone pelican. I wept when I found the remains of a bird by the water's edge.
mixed media collage
122409
~searching~
mixed media collage on found book cover
122409
~PAX~
visual journal entry
122409
***wishing peace and love for all***
I have been doing a fine job avoiding the fact that Christmas is right around the corner. After a dreary Thanksgiving, ma and I decided to do something completely new for Christmas this year. It's bound to hit us hard, that pa is missing, and somehow it feels better to not stick with old traditions.
I have never had a tree in my little granny shack of a house. No room. I certainly was not going to make an exception this year, but while on a walk the other day I stumbled over a branch. I decided to bring it home and make it my Christmas branch. Slowly the ornaments came out and before long the theme became apparent-- a blue and white Christmas.
~a wish come true~
visual journal entry
102509
~swooping waltz~
mixed media collage on found book
This piece is about being 40. Feeling the contradictions of a blooming spirit and a body marked by time. Feeling powerful and free and yet aware that I am inching towards my own setting sun.
~i do, i have, i am~
saul steinberg
1971
I found this postcard last week, and it made me so happy. A beautiful, little affirmation. It rings true right now--- I feel grateful for all I have, for who I have become and for all I am about to do!
After a week of freezing cold with frosty mornings the rain started up and with it came a more tolerable temperature. The rain gave me a perfect excuse to spend the entire day in my pj's with tea, my ipod, a new kick-ass heater, and my snoozin' sadie in the art shack. I caught the goldfinches having a fiesta out on the pear tree and when the sun tried to break through after a shower I was delighted to capture a zillion diamonds on the branches! Nature's own string of lights.....
~a different you~
visual journal entry
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~a different you~
(left)
~a different you~
(right)
sometimes i have a horrible feeling
that i didn't know you at all.
and now you are gone.
we wasted so much time.
almost as if we existed in different planes.
should i have pushed more?
raku figure
raku bust
~ireland~
mixed media collage on found book cover
~the one~
mixed media collage on found book cover
It may appear that I am preparing for the holidays, not so, this is a year round corner in my kitchen!
Confession. I added this lil bit of Holiday magic from papaya. And I'm never taking it down!
This isn't coming down either.
~i want to belong to you~
visual art journal entry
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~one day my little girl will~
visual journal entry
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at peace
~lucy in the sky with diamonds~
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~bat for lashes~
mixed media collage on found book cover
By the way, Bat for Lashes, is on perma play in my art shack. She ROCKS!!! Think Bjork meets Kate Bush back in the Siouxsie days. Girl crush.
elke sommers
(wish i looked like this in my studio!)
sadie mae
I am thankful for so very, very much.
collage by emmanuel polanco
~
This year, I am most thankful for the gift of caring for my father as he died.
For that last month when all that mattered was our love and the fact that he was dying.
The experience was a beautiful, heart-wrenching gift.
I am forever grateful.
And changed for the better because of it.
Thank you poppy! I miss you so.....
Yesterday was our first Thanksgiving without pa.
It was a sad day.
There were only the three of us; my was mom sick, my brother was pacing and me with a tweeked neck.
The day couldn't end quickly enough for any of us.
I woke this morning to gray skies and I decided to keep my pj's on all day.
I drank my cup of tea while checking a few of my favorite websites and my flickr contacts for some much needed inspiration.
Then I kicked myself out of the house and into the art shack.
It was the fist time I've been in there for several weeks.
There has been so much to do, pa's memorial was last weekend, family was in town, and there has been so much catching up to do from the last months as well as just trying to stay afloat.
Once I started it didn't take long for me to loose myself in a place deep inside my heart.
It never ceases to amaze me how much I love visiting that place. That place in which I create. Time stands still. Emotions pour forth. Truth reigns.
After 4 hours of tearing and gluing down paper, furiously rubbing in pastels, smearing on paint, writing my innermost thoughts and splattering on ink I went inside for lunch.
All of a sudden the heavens opened and rain gushed out. Ferocious rain. Out of nowhere.
When it stopped I ran outside with my camera and was overjoyed with what I found.
So much beauty all around me. Glistening in the drops.
Now I feel grounded, my heart is open- to the sadness, the beauty and the gratitude.
~love and death~
(left side)
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~love and death~
(right side)
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~
I am grateful for the unending beauty and inspiration in the world.
Today I found it:
outside my front door
~
on my back steps
~
outside my art shack
~
in my driveway
~
and in my back yard.
~
Today, and everyday, I am grateful for the amazing artists in this world
who create and share
and push me to new depths:
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
emmanuel polanco
~
~
~
~
~
~
Usually autumn is a sad time of year for me. It foreshadows the coming of winter, which had come to represent a cold, barren season- the end of yet another year with me no closer to my dreams. This year is so different. I am feeling at peace with my life and blessed in so many ways. I still may not have a family of my own, but what I do have is pretty amazing.
I am finding so much joy in the rich colors, the intense light and the crisp air. I find myself setting up little autumn altars around the house. I am cleaning out my home and art shack; donating unwanted items and reorganizing and simplifying. It feels so good. Like ending a chapter, preparing to hibernate in the cozy nooks of my house, preparing for new growth. My mind is a flutter with crafting ideas. I met with a landscaper who grew up next door to me to start designing a "new" backyard. I will soon be opening a "shop" on etsy. I am eager to see what will come of all of this. Simultaneously nurturing the belief that often the magic lies is the process of doing, rather than the end result.
While my mother and I were at Stinson Beach shortly after my pa's death I took many walks. I filled my pockets with found treasures~ rocks, shells, lichen, butterfly wings, feathers, seed pods, dried kelp, etc.. As I walked along the waters edge looking at rocks I often thought of Margie from resurrection fern who aside from being a sweet soul, is an absolute inspiration. Her blog is an breathtaking homage to nature and her stunning creations. I absolutely adore her covered stones........
I used many of the rocks I collected in the altars I created for my pa, both at the beach and at home. However, I did stash some away for Margie. I felt a little lame just sending a box of rocks--- though Margie would probably love them regardless. So last night I started thinking of ways to make a more interesting package. She lives near a forest, and I live near the sea. She lives in Canada and I in California. The idea grew over night and this morning in the crisp, clear, brilliant morning it all came together.
***
for the love of autumn:
a collection from the california coast
***
Once again, the process proved so satisfying. Sifting through my home and studio in search of autumnal yumminess in the form of dried flowers from my yard, lichen from my walks, feathers, stones and kelp from the beach, and old spools of warm toned thread. I assembled a temporary altar and had a blast photographing it in the early morning light. Now I will disassemble it, pack it up and send it off to Margie. I look forward to seeing what she does with these treasures! This could be the start of a new cooperative art project. Each person creating a still life out of a collection of items, photo documenting it and then sending it to another artist. The recipient then creates another still life and photo documents it....and we all post the pictures in a flickr group?? Hmmmm. I am going to work on this!
I was called in for superior court jury duty on Monday and was actually hoping to be selected. I packed a bag full of beautiful books-- ones with more pictures than words as I get distracted easily. I sat for 3 hours flipping through some amazing books: Making Gardens Works of Art by Keeyla Meadows, Home Altars of Mexico by Dana Salvo and Cultivating Sacred Space: Gardening for the Soul by Elizabeth Murray. I was incredibly inspired by each one.
Autumn is the season of letting go, as once again there will be dormancy.... When we create our sacred space we may include some of the ideas, inspirations, ancient wisdom, and archetypes gathered in other seasons. But to bless the space and invoke it with meaning and memory, we must also create our own celebrations, ceremonies, and rituals. These occasions can be centered around the seasons or around the great events in our lives, such as birth, marriage and death. They can include elements from different cultures and spiritual traditions, or we can make them up out of our imaginations- whatever resonates in us and rings true. When our hearts feel touched we know that our ceremonies are authentic. ~Elizabeth Murray
I planted a tree in my backyard in honor of my father two weeks ago. The idea just came to me, and felt right. I chose a fruit tree so that each time I picked and ate the fruit I would think of my pa, and honor his memory. I call it Papa's Pineapple Guava Tree and it already has fruit on it! Today I will plant daffodils and grape hyacinths underneath the tree.
Dia de los Muertos (right side)
visual journal entry
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Dia de los Muertos (left side)
visual journal entry
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A few nights ago I found myself puzzled by how "well" I seem to be doing despite having just buried my father 3 weeks ago. I know grief comes and goes- I just expected her to be around more. I remember reading an article while caring for my father- it was about a woman who took care of her dying husband for several years. Once he died she felt guilty because she wasn't grief stricken. Someone explained to her that she had been grieving the loss for 2 years. Indeed, I have been grieving for 6 months. From the time my pa was diagnosed, each time he declined in health or spirit, during the month I lived with him and as I held his hand during his final breath- grief has been with me every step of the way. Recently someone told me that a lot of the grief people experience after someone dies stems from regrets- and I don't really have any. I feel so fortunate that we had those 6 months together. That we could "prepare" as much as that is possible, for his death. Knowing our time was finite made me push myself to open more, share more, to go beyond my comfort level.
my family tree
~the snake charmer~
mixed media collage on found book cover
110709
Love and Death are the great gifts that are given to us. Mostly they are passed on unopened. ~Rainer Maria Rilke~
Dia de los Muertos is the homecoming of spirits of the dead, a reunion of the dead and the living. The old ones say that when the spirits come back to the world of the living, their path must be made clear, the roadway must not be slippery with the wet flood of human tears.
~Salvatore Scalora~
excerpt from Flowers and Sugar Skulls for the Spirits of the Dead
~offerings~
~i miss him~
~
~
I have moments when I break apart and the tears flow. When I picture my sweet pa and realize I'll never see him again. That he won't be there to walk me down the aisle when I get married. That my children will never know this amazing man who taught me the importance of being kind, of being honest, true to myself, and to accept people for who they are. But for the most part I feel happy and inspired. I have been putting energy into decorating my home- making it a cozy, inviting place to curl up in. I know he would love this. I am planning a major garden project--- realizing that my garden can be a place to practice art, cultivate happiness and create magic.
~
~
~
~nourish~
polenta scramble with andouille sausage, mixed mushrooms, onions and garlic
I took this picture over a year ago, at the end of a dark time brought about by a broken heart. It seemed the universe was giving me a sign, that I would make it through the darkness and perhaps something good might come of it. Indeed it was then that I discovered art journaling and embraced my calling as an artist. There, I said it, the "A" word! Today I again found myself wandering in the Mission District of San Francisco at the end of another dark time. Feeling so much wiser and stronger, and definitely trusting that we blossom with every struggle.
I was searching for things to add to my Day of the Dead altar for pa. I have always been drawn to religious icons, ceremonies and symbols, although I am not religious. This year the Day of the Dead has special meaning to me, since I just lost my pa. I drove by a garage sale a few days after pa died and found 2 wonderful wooden pieces of furniture that were screaming to be used as an altar. I have slowly been assembling the altar, but needed some finishing touches. It was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny. I am always floored by the colors of the Mission- so vibrant and life affirming.
~message of the day~
He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much;
Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of little children;
Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task;
Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth's beauty or failed to express it;
Who has left the world better than he found it,
Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul;
Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had;
Whose life was an inspiration;
Whose memory a benediction.
Elisabeth-Anne "Bessie" Anderson Stanley
Chapel of the Chimes
Oakland, California
I am left in a rather strange, surreal place... It still doesn't feel real to me, that my father is dead. My life has been such a whirlwind. After the funeral I started back at work and made an effort to see all my friends who I had neglected over the past few months. I have become aware of an uneasiness that is surfacing within me, it feels like life has become a distraction. I feel like my memories of pa's last month are fading. I still have pages to finish in my journal about his last few days, I am worried that I will lose the memories if I don't hurry. I feel like I need to make more time to grieve. To be still and feel the loss, the emptiness, that is his absence.
I went to pa's office this week, it was my second visit. I sifted through his amazingly organized, yet archaic, files dating back to the 1950's. A wall of files with hand written notes, lectures, drafts of papers, published papers, overhead transparencies, airline boarding passes, xeroxes of his beautifully handwritten letters, books etc.. I found an old sweater, with holes and leather patches on the elbows. Letters my mom and I had written to him when he went away to conferences abroad. I thought of the 50 years he spent working there, hardly missing a day of work until he was 83 years old. I was overwhelmed by evidence of his brilliance and his passion for knowledge. Tears flowed freely. I heard people walking in the hall, but they seemed to know I needed to be left alone. Before I knew it, hours had passed, it was dark and the security guard had locked the building. I took as much as I could carry and left. I will go back....
I made time to work on my art yesterday which I haven't done in 3 weeks. The majority of my weekends are usually spent creating in my art shack, so it has been very un-grounding to be away from it for so long. It was a crisp autumn day and the sun was shining. Sadie was lounging on the grass in the back yard. I flipped through random magazines and catalogs and came upon the perfect words~ I don't know why I am still surprised when this happens, because it often does when I am in the "art zone".
The Hard Things That Open the Heart.
When we are challenged we encounter both suffering
and opportunities for growth.
How we meet these challenges affects our well-being
and even our life course.
This rings so true for me right now. I am so aware of how this whole experience of slowly loosing my pa, as awful as it was, was such a gift in so many ways. It brought us closer together as a family. It made me value my friends, family and life so much more. It strengthened my resolve to have a family of my own. It made me promise to myself to believe in and pursue my dreams, now, and not wait...
~it is in the giving that we receive~
~the hard things that open the heart~
visual journal entry
102909
~return to gone away~
mixed media collage on found vintage book cover
102909
Sunset Cemetery
Pa's final resting place
101809
if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body,
answer that flower withers,
but the seed remains.
Kahlil Gibran
