January 2012 - a Resolution

January 2012 - Beginning the New Year 

Bob and I  hung some art on the walls in our Library.

Now the room feels just right as I sit surrounded by the beauty of ART!

There is nothing that can compare with real, original art  in your home or office. Each piece holds memories as you look from one to the other.  When you buy a work of art, you are buying a piece of the artist's  life in a very personal way.  In my own collection are works from artist friends as well as other pieces I have bought from artists I will never know personally. Each art work reminds me of the artist who made it and each holds a special place in my heart.

The lively abstract painting shown here  was painted by me. It is one of my all time favorite paintings that I did a long time ago.  I was an graduate student in painting at West Virginia University. I was passionately reading poetry by Robert Bly and William Carlos Williams. They are still my poetic mentors.  The images I recognized in their poetry cam through my brushes during those years as I painted in my stdio. There were wonderful images from nature, snow storms, rain, and the environment that we dwell in evry day.  This painting moves me every time I stop to have a deep look at it. I will never understand this painting and it still holds secrets that I find there. 

There are other paintings and photographs on my walls and they were done by friends I know personally. Other works of art on my Library walls come from Africa. A young painter in Nigeria sent me this beautiful textural painting one day. It was a very big surprise. I had no idea it was coming to me through the mail, in a tight little roll, inside of a box. This is one of my treasures, among all treasures in my home. It was a gift.

The African Painting and sculpture  hang above a collection of books on a vintage primitive table. I am very fond of primitive things that I have found over the years at yard sales, basements, and unexpected places. They are often someone else's trash and in my home they are my treasure. I have many such pieces in every room of the house. I keep them exactly as they are when I find them. I do not paint them or disturb them, but just clean them up and put them to use again.


The lamp shade was made by my husband Bob. He makes beautiful art  in Stained glass and steel.  The pottery plate was made by me,  I was inspired by a vintage advertisement plate made of clear pressed glass. African statues fill the nooks and crannies of this Library.  I am always surrounded by the spirits of the artisans who created them..

A bay window allows light to flow into this room from morning till late afternoon.

While others are making stunning and ambitious resolutions for the year, I choose to just resolve to spend time each day thinking about art and poetry and the passage of time.  

My resolution  for the New  Year is to  enjoy  making some  knitted items in the solitude of my cozy home; sweeping the wooden floor of my porch with a fiber broom to clear it of the new  snow that the western winds have blown there; watering and tending to my plants while they safely wait inside the house for their time to once again return back outside after winter has passed; pausing to admire  my little African Violet plat (I started from a leaf).  It is about a year old, and won't be ready to bloom for quite awhile yet. There is time for that. No hurry.  

I finally started writing in my journal today, too.  I wonder why I put it off, keep in on the back burner like I do. I write it on the computer, print it out, then put it in my binder that is labeled "Journal."  

The pottery bowl  was a welcome Christmas gift from our daughter Heidi.  I cherish  this piece of pottery. What I like about it is the natural color of the glaze, the kind of clay that the potter used, and the way she carved deep geometric and symmetrical patterns in the clay.  Another reminder of Heidi is on the wall. There is a set of three drawings that she made years ago. The three drawings are placed vertically in one frame. They look African, too.  Her drawings have a tribal feel to them.

I would not trade one small piece of hand made art from this room, for an entire room full of expensive commercial art made by the thousands and sold at slick department stores.  Here in my Library,  each piece is priceless to me. 

Create a Quiet Place to Read

Create a special place in your home that is just for reading. I have done this recently and it has brought so much peace to my home. It is a special room that I can go to when I want solitude. Here I read and knit on the winter days that we have in western Pennsylvania. Here, I will share this secluded place with you today.

At the top of my list of favorite things would be books.

I savor the books by authors who challenge or uplift my mind and leave a residue of wonder behind long after I have read the final page. I close that book with regret that it has come to the end. I treasure the books that have fully developed characters. The characters become living people who transcend the ordinary and mundane and leave an impression on the reader. Books take me to places I have never been before. They take me to places I will never be going in person. They take me into their world where I meet individuals who each have something to share with me personally. I see them, listen to them, and I have communication with them, if the book is well written by a sensitive and honest author.

I have created a library in my home. It is a room on the second floor devoted to books and reading. In this room there are books on shelves from the floor to the ceiling. The books are surrounded by art works on the walls, tables, and pedestals. The art in the room reflect the things I like to be surrounded with - things made by friends, my husband, my children, and me.

There are paintings by friends and also paintings that I have created over the years. You can see photographs from friends, lithographs, stained glass pieces made by my husband, a woven tapestry by one of my daughters, a tapestry that I made many years ago. On a primitive table there are sculptures from Africa and one dynamic piece made by an artist friend. there is a tall black column of stone, a favorite sculpture made by an art school friend. Here you can find pottery that I recently made, handmade baskets woven out of cloth and honeysuckle vines, by West Virginia artisans. there is a striking Victorian style clock that once hung in my husband’s grandmother’s home. I seldom wind it up, but I enjoy it as a work of art.

This library is a place of solitude and peace. There is a futon and two chairs in the library. They form a circle in the center of this space. An overnight guest may stay there and be surrounded by art and literature and have a time apart to read, rest or relax. A space that holds books and art is a sacred space.

This is the room where I read my audio books. Since I can no longer see to read the physical books on the shelves, I use a special audio book machine that is provided to the blind and handicapped people through the US Library of Congress. The books I had selected arrive in my mail box and after I have read them, I put them back in the mailbox and they are sent on to another person to enjoy. This service is free to those of us who would be unable to enjoy books and reading without it. I am so appreciative of this service.

As I read the book, I am knitting on special projects. Right now, it is a Prayer Shawl. I do not yet know who the shawl will be for, but when the time is right, I will know.

My library room is the perfect place to spend the hours of a winter day. It is warm and comforting and time stands still here in the library. I bring my cup of tea with me, sit down in my high back chair that supports my back so well. I reach into my woven knitting basket, slowly pull out my soft and colorful yarn, pick up my smooth bamboo needles, and begin listening to my book.

Your library will reflect your own tastes and interests. Think about where you might create such a space for your own enjoyment. You do not have to be blind or handicapped to have such a wonderful place to read!

Reading the Stuff of Life

What a delightful time I am having as I read _The Power of Myth_ by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers. This book was on my book shelves for a number of years. It is a larger book that is easily noticable there on the shleves. I often picked it up and looked through it, waiting for a time when I could sit down and really learn what is there between the covers.

As a Professor of Fine Art and Literature, it was always my intention to read a number of books “when I retire.” My profession was one requiring extensive reading. I loved to read and I devoured books and periodicals like there was no tomorrow. However, the reading I did for my courses were all centered around what I was teaching. I longed to be able to have time to read outside my course materials and requirements. I kept theinking that someday I would be able to do that, when I reitre. And, so, I kept those thoughts inside of me and began to work towards that magical future time when I could read to my heart's content with no goal of ever teaching the material. I would read it just for me. I would read to satisfy my inner longings. I would read for my soul alone.

I have been collecting a treasure trove of books for that purpose. I gathered them, put them on shelves in my cozy home office, and had no idea when the day would come when I could read books and not run about driving back and forth to work at the college, and putting together extensive folders of classes, and grading papers by the hour. I thought, some day I can just read all the books I have wanted to read and will have the time to do it. I spent my life organizing classes, taking students on international trips, writing conference presentations and professional development projects.

Of course, I had no way of knowing when I would retire. Sometimes I would think I might retire when i turned 65 years old. When I was 64 years old, I would think, well, I probably will work until I am 70. I had no idea of just exactly when this book reading project would begin. I continued to gather my books and line my shelves in anticipation for that day.

What did I collect? What is on my shelves? Most noticable on my shelves are books of poetry, rows and rows of books of poetry. Some books are about poetry, and writing poetry, but mostly the books are written by poets I like or ones I want to read. There is something about a book of poetry that touches my heart. It speaks to me. I hold it in my hands and carefully feel the cool heft of that book. It is smooth. The cover intrigues me. There is often an art work on the cover. But, the book itself is a work of art, an object to be admired and an object that is like a sculpture that exists in a three dimensional space. I like that.

Let me just share some favorite poets who reside on my shelves:
Robert Bly beckoned me as an undergraduate student. He drew me into the world of nature with images of snow, trees, and a dying seal on a beach. I learned to love and respect mythology through reading his poems. I learned to travel in a world of the mystical that one arrives at through images that are all around me, the ordinary stuff of life.

Louise Gluck is there for me. The world of flowers and plants bring me closer to the illusive and unnamable. I nearly tremble as I encounter her voice in a summer flower in the garden. She gives the iris and the rose a voice, and I am right there listening to what they have to say.

Walt Whitman waits there for me to join him in his walk down the road. I want to travel with him and feel the wind at my back or the sun on my face. I want to scream out into the landscape as we walk together, to be a part of it all.

There are many more poets and books and journeys I will take to places that are written about and places that were sung before the days of recorded time, when everyone knew that the gods were in control of the universe and the telling of stories were part of a ritual that occurrred at certain times of every year.

I could not have known that it would take something like a catastrophe to stop me in my tracks, make me slow down, and learn how to live my life in a new way. I had to learn how to be rather than how to do, to enter into the real world. I knew that. I always knew that.

I am reading books now through the use of a tape player provided for the Blind and Handicapped through the National Library of Congress. I am able to order any books I would like to read. They come directly to my house and are sent through the postal service. In my mailbox, there will be a green vinyl case and in that case will be a number of tapes that I can put into the special player provided for this purpose. The tapes are four sided. I flick a switch to change tape sides, and turn the tapes over when instructed to do so. As I while away the hours of this winter afternoon, I am reading the book that I have waited so long to be able to read. It is such a wonderful thing for me.

As I read, I also knit on projects that I am working on. Right now, it id a series of basket weave dish cloths. I hope to sell the dish cloths in the fall at the holiday art festivals. They are very lovely cloths, and feel so good and soft to the touch. They are much nicer than the machine ones that are available in stores. And, these ones are hand knitted by me. I like to think that the good thoughts and feelings I have while I am reading and knitting are saturated into the finished cloths. I imagine that someone will pick up one of my cloths, hold it in the hand, and just pause for a moment to have a look at the pattern and to feel the soft yarn, and just for a moment, remember the hands of the woman who made it. That might sound rather silly, but I think that everything we do, when we do it with love, is something that touches another person in a deep way. My spirit reaches out to another fellow traveler on this pathway of our life through the things I make on a cold winter day in the solitude of my living room, as I read a wonderful book.

As I cast my eyes around the shelves here in my office, I am surrounded by books I have collected. For some authors, I have tried to gather a number of books so that there is some continuity in what I am learning from that author. When there is an author I likek, then I want to know more. I want to reach into the innermost places of the author’s spirit and touch that quiet place with my own soul. The books bring “knowing” to me and they are very personal. I think of the years it will take for me to read all these books who surround me with their presence every day. And, I will add to them as I go along.

For today, with the warmth of the winter sunshine gleaming through my windows, and the snow that has stacked up on the roof of the house begins to melt and the icicles drip and grow smaller, I rejoice. To be surrounded by good books is the most delightful condition I could ever find for myself. I am utterly thankful for this time away from the bustle and frenzy that was my professional life just two long years ago. The loss of eye sight bright new vision to my soul and new life to my daily walk.

My two dogs lays nearby as I write. They are asleep. One is curled up into a small form, the other one is on his side, stretched out, and relaxed in sleep. Good books and contented dogs make for a real life. This is the stuff of life.