The Day We All Looked Up

A long time ago now, 2008 I believe,  I created a little collage called "And Suddenly the Multitude Turned Their Heads."   It was filled with silhouettes.  The same Person, a stand in, anonymous. Shortly after I finished it, I tried to make a painting from the collage.  This was when I was out at Evergreen Studios in Redmond, back at the beginning of this blog, of this time, of this process.  I was really quite lonesome then, hadn't quite found what I now call The Village, although I had met a couple of them.

Back to the painting.  I failed. Miserably.  The painting defeated me.  The silhouettes looked dumb, the patterns looked dumb, the palette, everything.  Dumb.

Fast forward to now.  I was commissioned to complete a big mural for Visit Bend, to be installed in, guess where?  Tin Pan Alley.  (I think that Visit Bend doesn't realized how much time I spend in this alley).  When thinking about what I was going to do for this piece, it became obvious to me that I needed to present The Village.  The failed painting from 2008 immediately came back to me.  But this time, instead of imaginary silhouettes, I gathered the people of the village one by one and captured them (well, as many as I could fit.  I need a bigger canvas). Now I am filling in the silhouettes with their  "them-ness."  My dear Alicia (of Howl) is being represented by her favorite Pendleton Wool Pattern that she used for many of her creations.  The Lovely Cyr is becoming a golden sea, a golden ocean.  Sarah McMurray has a peacock pattern,  much like her most beautiful tattoo.  James Ryan will have a grid of compass shapes.  One is a beehive, one is vintage floral wallpaper.  All of them have their chins lifted, gazing to the sky.

 Of course I had to wait to do this painting, of course.

And I have titled it:  The Day We All Looked Up.

Now, Back to work.  I am working on a Deadline Now.  Oops.

Warp Speed

Summer comes to central Oregon and all rhyme or reason or schedule gets thrown out the window.   It is too short to take for granted, so when it comes- we pay attention.  Afternoons are filled with time spent in the river. Evenings are centered around watching the sunset, usually with friends and music, always stunning. Mornings are still primarily spent at the cafe, for me, but the rhythm is lighter and starts as quick as the dawn. All this time spent playing and breathing and sunning has sent the amount of creativity running through me into warp speed. It's all energy, of course, but creative energy is the most satisfying I can think of.  I am photosynthesizing. 

In a more down-to-earth explanation of the last month, these things have been delightful:

• Showing work at both the studio and at the new Naked Winery tasting room in The Old Mill District.
• A very fun fourth if July full of bikes and friends and sun, and two days later a most excellent Y La Bamba concert, in which I dorked out entirely, danced like a fool, and dorked out some more. 
• A spectacular weekend with my sis and her hub, in which the Rural Demons helped close down the Horned Hand, and I visited almost every brewery in Bend, and saw a very amazing Spanish silent film where Snow White was a Matador.  Best film of the year.
• Speaking of the Rural Demons, a very satisfying accousticy show at the Tin Pan Theater.  Which also showcased several lovely Bluesy Canadians, and a short preview of The Gold Rust. 
• The creation of The Gold Rust- a folk country duo consisting of myself and fellow-other-band-mate Casey the Boy.  (I am known as kaycee the girl in case you were wondering). We play a house show near the lava flow on Sunday,  and the Sunday after that, and then we may go up to the Cascadian Irish Music Festival in the San Juans.  A few of the songs we do are sung in Irish, which just makes me really wish I could teleport to Innisfree, so if we don't go down to California to record (which is the plan) maybe we should just go to Innisfree instead.  
• The magnificent déjà vu of having Cyr as a studio mate again.   That's right. 
• The commision of mural, started today, that will hang in Tin Pan Alley, by Visit Bend.   
• Time spent in moonlight at the Obsidian Flow, Little Cultus Lake, the beloved Descutes, and other magical Cascadian landscapes.  

And then there are the collages: in progress.

and with that, it is almost time to watch the setting.   As in the words of Neko Case's Magpie  "don't let the fading summer pass you by..."

Easily Inspired, Easily Distracted

Greetings from the studio.
This a completely informal post, so forgive the lack of Narrative.
My Darling Cyr is in Bend the last week (in town for one more) and I am so pleased that she is sitting in my studio right now, working on her laptop, while we listen to the Tallest Man On Earth and plot our next artistic endeavors (also known as "dork around on the interweb").
In the last few weeks, there was much art finishing, bike riding, yoga, and basking in the Central Oregon Sunshine.
Summer kicks things into turbo mode.
Here are things I am completely inspired by and inspired by:



(album out Sept 3rd, I will be seeing her September 8 and 19)



(this video reminds me of photo trips with Cyr and Jo, and I am stoked to see them in Bend July 6)

Four spaces have been filled in the Studio.  Things are gearing up.

Spin, Spin, Spin

My head has been spinning lately with all the capital-T Things that are happening in Bend, and in my little circle of world, and I am overwhelmed.

I could make a long list.  In doing that, though, would it would cheapen the context? The context of conversations, Kelty-walks, changing leaves, short films, exquisite pickled watermelon rinds, road-trip plans, expansion and contraction of autumn, which is the most amazing backdrop for all these Things?  It would make the individual Things on the list seem separate from the momentum they are involved with.  And the momentum is what is so magical, encouraging, exhilarating  bizarre, and perfectly-abnormally-normal.

Oh, well.
Here's the list anyway:

Bend Film
Continued Jubel Times, which was kicked off by the mighty Anseth clan visiting from Tennessee and Montana, and allowed me to get to hug friends in Portland I had not seen in ages.
Watching friends Projects come to life: a film about Cascadia, Silvero coming home from an Alaskan Tour, Hey Lover's hilariously fun new video, not to mention all the inspiring fall music that is coming out right now- both from friends I know, and friends I haven't met yet.  
An ongoing convo with the Lovely Shanan about life, creativity, yoga, and lovingly calling out BullShit (sorry for the language, sortof).
Winning an online give away of some beautiful earrings made by my friend Michael (seriously, I've only ever won concert tickets and a home-made pie).
Wildwood by Colin Meloy and Carsen Ellis.
An upcoming visit from CYR!

And most importantly:
Planning a pretty epic roadtrip Eastward in oh, about nine days.

Spin on, World.

fruition.

A couple of summers ago, I shyly showed the lovely Cyr some writing I had been doing that went along with the collages I had been working on since 2008.  I wasn't quite sure what to do with them, but I had an idea, and it kept rolling around the back of my brain (perhaps it was a marble I lost).  I slowly began piecing these things together into a form that was more than just scribbles and notes.  They aren't really short stories, they aren't really poems, they aren't explanations. Last summer, in one of the poetHouse crit groups, I brought them to the table, and got some valuable feedback (thanks to Tom Monson and company for being so encouraging).  Almost a year later, I felt like it was time to just complete this already, so I recruited my lovely sister to be my editrix.  I found an easy-does-it website with a downloadable, no brain program.  I arranged and re-arranged, and changed fonts twelve times.  And then...

I wasn't expecting this to be at my door until late next week...

A Story (so far)

Granted, it is what I am considering a proof, and it is self published, and it is kinda melodramatic on the inside, and it is tiny, and who knows what I will do with it now, and it is all those things: but also it is kinda cool to see a project come to fruition.  And the fact that I am typing this while sipping on a Jubelale, which is another thing that has come to fruition, is kinda rad.

(paint) Bucket List

I've been thinking the last few days, upon fruition of some long anticipated projects, about what I have achieved so far, artistically speaking, and what I would like to see happen in the future.  I decided it to write down my artistic bucket list, here in the open air, to both keep my eyes ahead and also for fun.  Here we go, and if you have ideas- by all means- share!

• Participate in a six month artist-in-residency in a foreign land. 
• Create a collaborative, large scale, mixed media project with Sarah Bee and Cyr.
• Complete a collage that is, oh, eight feet high and fourteen feet long. 
• Spend six months being a renegade secret surprise artist, like the two guys in that one Norwegian film where they put artwork in cereal boxes.  
• work on artwork for a film, think Coraline or the Fantastic Mr. Fox, only with paper.
• Illustrate a book.
• Have a large dinner symposium with all my artist friends, and a few of my artistic heros (I haven't decided which ones, maybe all of them).
• Intern for Andy Goldsworthy on an environmental installation.
• create A Perfectly Beautiful studio space
• ________________________________________

More to wish for, more to dream up, always and always. 

deep in the desert

April was an interesting month.  March was non-stop studio preparing for Feathers, Scales, Shells at the teahouse, so when the show was hung and I finally stopped to breathe, I realized what was ahead of me.  My dear friends, Sarah, Christian, and Cyr began brand new beautiful adventures in the month of April, and so much of the first couple weeks were spent bidding bon voyage.

It's not my favorite, saying bye to people.

The Tallest Man on Earth says "there are no real good-byes if you mean it."  and I would say he is correct.


In order to re-center, re-invigorate, and remember what's clear- I headed east last weekend with my boy besties (I think they hate it when I call them that) to the Alvord Desert, which is snug in between the Steens Mountains and the Pueblo Range in one of the most remote places in the lower forty-eight.  It was divine, and exactly what I needed.  The first night in, we camped in tents without rain flys. and I grinned myself to sleep while watching the stars and listening to the Fleet Foxes new album (which, I might add, mentions Innisfree several times: a lake isle beloved by WB Yeats and also the Mullen Family of Maury County, TN).  I woke with the dawn over the desert, spent the morning soaking in the Alvord Hot Springs, then hiked all afternoon on the Pike Creek Trail.  The weekend continued with campfire food, frisbee throwing, guitar playing, walking out into the half inch lake that covered the Alvord with a soft milky mud, and spending a lot of quiet time with the boys and Kelt, letting the desert wind refuel me.

Now, back in Bend, with the PoetHouse in transition and spring STILL not here, I am hanging on to the clarity of being in the outside lands, and looking forward to pouring some of that clarity into my artwork.

Don't it Always seem To Go.

The PoetHouse still is without heat.  It is officially colder in there than it is outside, especially today, which is bright and beautiful and almost balmy (let's say pushing forty! wooHOO).  This week and a half of not being able to be in my studio space is reminding and redefining my relationship to PoetHouse.  How wonderful it is to have a space like that to flock too! How wonderful are the artists, musicians, creatives, and our muses that flock there!  My days are much less filled to the brim this last week and a half, and I miss my little community.  The heat gets fixed tomorrow, and you can bet your life that that's where I will be most of this weekend.  Until then.  Here are things I am excited about (most involve music).

New Iron and Wine.
New Decemberists.
The new Solar Room @ Mandala Yoga Community.
Cyr's Photoblog that she is shyly presenting to the world.

enough.

when you’ve we’ve i’ve gone far enough

This is a travelogue of sorts.  It is a postcard love letter of the last six months in which two artists walked on parallel paths towards figuring things out, or maybe just remembering.  The collection of photographs taken and scraps of paper repurposed, outdated road maps and meaningful trifles becomes tactile meditations on the fact that:  Yes, everything is connected. Yes, these humble moments matter. Yes, this story could be you, and we, and i.

  thanks,

cyr and kaycee

When you've we've i've gone far enough

part one. part two to come

Well, the show came.  Here is my silly little walkthrough of it to initially show you what it was like.  Cyr will have better photos to come, and I will make a more formal description.

The Weight of the World.

The world is light and it fits on my shoulder.   Well, this one does anyway.  Today, the girls (Cyr and Jo) went thrifting in order to gather art supplies.  We hit the jackpot.  I found Four globes for the beginning of an installation(it's Earth Day, twas meant to be).  I am going to be painting new maps on the globes, creating new worlds.   Reworking, retelling, creating new constellations.

I also found a super cool hat, and a lovely new umbrella which will be in our bag of tricks for next week's soon-to-be-named Spring Art Adventure, a four day trek into the Steens Mountains.  Similar to last summer's  "Paint the Hills and Call Them Ours," which resulted in much art and merrymaking.

See Shells

Cyr has been collecting egg shells for a while, with the intent of using them in a still life.  In a speedy shoot this afternoon, we drove up Skyliner to a deep patch of snow with the eggs and the following props:

• gold embroidery floss
• an old fashioned scale
• paper cranes made by her friend Kate out of tea bags
• old photos of her grandmother
• tiny fake apples
• a rosery
• some greenery
• a wishbone from a Christmas game hen

Unfortunately, Cyr had to rush to work before we could look at the outcome of this silly little shoot.  I am enjoying being her assistant these days.  I have been keeping a Moleskin in my pocket (thanks mom and dad) when we go "on location" in order to write down the flood of ideas that come up.  Sometimes, I get a little, well, cheesy.  What if we wrote fortunes for the eggs, like fortune cookies?  What if we took a marker and colored the cracked edges?  What about this heart-shaped confetti I brought?  One idea leads to another, to another, to another, to another.  Not all are successful, but that's part of it.  I may not be spending much time with scissors or brush in hand lately, but ideas are fermenting.

It is interesting to view another person's creative process, observing the value systems in an artist's inner eye: Cyr composes her shots from a complex place, one that has immediacy, like juggling.  She thinks in black and white, in color, and in light (as I'm sure many of my photographer friends do) all at once; sometimes I feel like I am getting a tutorial in image making by accompanying her.

Indian Summer.

she is always shootin' somethin'

Cyr, Kelt and I went exploring at Shevlin Park to enjoy the day.

September is my absolute favorite time of year in Central Oregon. I absolutely adore the way that the air smells on crisp mornings. It is perfect weather for windows down singing, exploring creek side, packing in the last bits of bliss before hibernation time.

One Size Too Small.

The trusty black placard, triptych on the right is called "you had to be there."

"the giving tree"

"I am out of your hands, I have flown"

"bring me to the water Lord, I sure am thirsty"

(wearing this flowy skirt in the water, I had never felt lovely)

the sign for the street, and the signing book.

"we are nowhere, and it is now"

"all your memories"

film on Cyr's lamp

"what comes after"

(there were animal bones under the floorboards)

"I have not outgrown it. . ."

details of this piece, me in the river on one side, Jo at sheep rock on the other

"sometimes you walk, sometimes you fly, sometimes you die"

the artist and her mother

"because I love you - that's all"

(a carcass of a crawdad, an inscription found in an important book at Powell's in Pdx, my back)

"get up when you are ready, walk away when it is time to go"

(these are my hands, by the way, and a baby bird we found in a cemetery)

I mentioned in July that I went on an art adventure with my girls, Cyr and Jo. The intention that was set for the trip was that eventually, Cyr would have a show of the work. That show happened last weekend, a culmination of the summer and of Cyr's unique photographic eye. Besides our trip to the Painted Hills in Eastern Oregon, we went on several afternoon treks- finding fields to fly kites, old homesteads to explore, decayed road kill to cry over.

Cyr took her work further in this process than I think she expected. Her background is in documentary photography, she has her degree in Community Studies from UC Santa Cruz and interned in NYC at the Indypendent where she focused on chronicling social justice, poverty, and activism. This summer, she embraced a more poetic side of her photography, something I believe is equally important. Not only did she take stunningly poignant shots, but she added a delicate aesthetic to them in presentation, by covering mats with lacy fabric by hand, by sewing polaroids to cloth with intricate stitches, by juxtaposing images of a decaying bridge with a shot of Jo and her violin walking on a rocky shore and then surrounding both by feathers and placing them in a drawer from an old sewing machine stand.

There were SO many shots from this summer that Cyr could have included in this show, but the poetHouse has only so many walls. While the pieces she chose to exhibit have a quiet melancholy about them (my favorite is a piece that combines a Polaroid of an old farm house with another Polaroid of a coyote carcass hanging on a barbed wire fence) there is also a whimsey and joy to "One size to Small." Cyr's show illustrates a smile in defiance to harsh realities, a softness in the face of steely expectations.

My photographs of the show don't do it justice at all, but the show tells the story of a beautiful summer, one filled with several transitioning lives walking on a commonly human path.

And Then...

The end of summer approaches rapidly, and life has been one big blur.
A good blur.



Here is a list of what's happening.

• Day 22 of a bikram yoga challenge. I am planning on every day until:
• Army Owl arrives in Central Oregon on the 28th of September.
• Going to see Band of Horses tomorrow in Eugene with PoHo friends.
• Sending my Apple to the Doctor. Obviously the axiom doesn't apply here.
• Finishing art for Person, Tree, House- First Friday's theme, and then-
• Moving art from the hospital on Thursday to have a solo show hosted by Lone Pine Coffee Roasters, which will be hopping as well on First Friday.
• Floating Bonnie Rait and Taj Mahal this weekend.
• Training beginning for the Seattle Half Marathon in November.
• Photo shoots with Miss Cyr and Jo before Cyr's show September 18th (gonna be stinking amazing).
• Art for India Rise Up painting party comes around again on the 26th.

More of an Art Skip

Miss Cyr and I drove up to Portland yesterday through a record high heat wave.  We met up with Miss Jo, who had been traveling around Oregon and at last alighted at her parents house. The afternoon was free for checking out art galleries before the girls dropped me off at the airport for my red eye to Minneapolis.  (I'm still awake and at the airport, delirium has arrived.)

We unfortunately only made it to a couple galleries before they closed- Compound, the Goldsmith Blocks, and the New Space for Photography (Cyr was making connections, and scoping out the dark room).  Not quite an Art Hop, but that typically happens on first Thursdays or last Fridays anyhow.  

My favorite piece had to be an installation by sculptor Kevin Christman.   Bone white figures floated elegantly, each one tucked with peaceful expressions into a fetal position.    I don't recall how many there were,  but each one was different and there was a ballet-esque quality that contrasted with the stillness of them hanging over metallic sorta pillers/stakes .    

The evening continued with Old Friend Terah Beth- one half of the band Hey Lover, joining the girls and me for drinks at a hip little southeast bar called Night Light.  Despite the 101 degrees (I could have done bikram yoga outside!) Portland is a very welcoming town...

Running Amuck

Just a little preview taste of some of the fun from the Painted Hills Photo Adventure.

This image is attributed to k.Cyr and all rights are reserved.

Paint the Hills

I am windswept and sun bleached.  

Eastern oregon is an amazing, inspiring place.  Which is the main reason for the adventure of the last three days.  Cyr, Jo, Kelty and I left on sunday morning to drive to the Painted Hills, part of the John Day Fossil Refuge about two and a half hours east of Bend.  Our friends Lori and Shane joined us for the first leg.  We had no destination besides the hills, with  Cyr's camera in tow, as well as costumes and a vintage black film sign with moveable letters.  

Cyr took 345 photos.  

Much of the trip was pulling over at old farmhouses, or walking up the fossil bed self guided path so Jo could play her violin in front of green clay cliffs.  We found an orchard, the John Day River, a baby bird in an old pioneer cemetery, several old bridges, a shoe tree, a coyote dead on a fence,  a rickety foot bridge with cowboys driving trucks through the river nearby, two perfectly suited camp sites, a hundred year old country store, a chocolate blackberry milkshake,  and most of all- silliness, laughter, and poetry.

I'll show photos eventually.

An Aside (July Fourth)

The one break from long hours at the studio this past week came in the form of the fourth of July.  It was a day for spending outside with the PoetHouse Girls.  Lori, her pup Kita, Kelty and I participated in the Pet Parade (we walked alongside a very adventurous Chihuahua, whose owner must have loved the movie Up).  Then we met up with Jo and Cyr on Bikes to participate in the annual Freedom Ride, where thousands of Bend-ers gathered at Pioneer and Columbia parks to take Downtown by storm, clogging the streets in a rowdy pack.  After a dip in the Deschutes, we rode around town soaking in sunshine.   Cyr, Jo, and I ending the holiday watching Fireworks from Overturf Butte and a burrito from Taco Salsa with our fellow PoetHouse Honorary Girl, Jason.

Done and Done

Miss Cyr and I just finished hanging our labels and artist statements at St. Charles Medical Center.  

Imagine a deep, audible sigh.  

There is not quite anything like the feeling of accomplishment that accompanies displaying a body of work, anything that I can imagine anyway.   After living in the studio for the last few weeks, being so focused on each step of the process, I now get to unwind myself and think about the narrative I created. . .

Images from the show are on Cyr's trusty camara, and I will post them as soon as I can.

We will also be planning an opening for early August, hopefully I will be able to film another short walk through like the one I did for the Evergreen show last year.