Sunday, February 23, 2014

My Upcoming Exhibit - Images & Video from New York City

Yikes!  My art exhibit opens in just 13 days and I am still sifting through thousands upon thousands of images and videos, seeking out the best that will help to share the story of my time in New York City...

Here's a teaser. 
 










Saturday, February 15, 2014

Finally, Snow!


video

Hobbling Towards Health Care

I wasn't planning to apply for health care, on the principle of a healthy lifestyle being the best prevention and because I don't like being told I have to do something...

Injuring my knee while skiing on Christmas Eve has been a slow journey of recovery, including expensive visits to physical therapy. Still, I was holding tight to healing with the help of strengthening exercises, ibuprofen and three times daily applications of heat and ice. 

Last weekend, I tripped down the stairs when I missed a step, wrenching my knee and causing a return to pain and discomfort. A nurse friend suggested that I might consider getting an MRI. Doing some research and getting a quote from the local hospital on the cost had me re-thinking my opposition to applying for health care.

Today, fifteen minutes before the deadline to have coverage begin March 1st, I successfully submitted my application.

For the record, I'm still pouting... 




Happy (belated) Valentine's Day


I hope Valentine's Day brought much love, light and joy in to your life (along with a little bit of chocolate) and that the blessings continue throughout the coming year...





Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Home Sweet Homer

I love sharing my boyfriend's expansive house with its many rooms and lofts, indoor jacuzzi and especially the fantastic views of the mountains, glaciers and Bay. There are times though, when my heart aches for my rustic, little cabin tucked back in to the woods...

This is not at all a reflection on him or us or our life, but merely a recognition of how deliciously simple my life used to be.



The following is a piece I wrote in 2012, when I left my cabin to move in with Taz. It's interesting to reflect back now and then.

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After living in a tiny, rustic cabin in the woods for ten years, I've left it behind and moved in with my boyfriend and his dog and cat.

Made of rough hewn logs, my 16' x 20' cabin had a small living area with a fireplace, a kitchen with double sinks, but no running water, and a loft bedroom, complete with built in bookshelves, clothes closet and a space for a writing desk and chair.

Located on Noview Avenue in Homer, Alaska, the cabin did in fact have a partial view from the loft bedroom window, overlooking the woods and in the distance, Kachemak Bay and the surrounding Kenai mountains.  From the living room and dining room, the view looked over the garden and from the kitchen, the back woods near the outhouse.

Yep, rustic equalled no running water which meant no plumbing.

I sought a living space like this after living in Homer for nearly a year in a small house, complete with both water and electricity.  I met many individuals and couples who lived off without plumbing or electricity and in some cases, without either.

I wanted to try my hand at living in homesteader fashion.  And so it was that I came upon this cabin that was to become my home for over ten years, surrounded by woods, with a delightful strawberry garden in the front area, and frequently visited by eagles, moose, porcupine, rabbits, ermine and even black bear.

Here, I held parties, encouraged friendships, nurtured my creativity, enjoyed the peace and tranquility of life in the woods, and lived with my cats Gidget and Spankee.  

I've left the cabin and both Gidget and Spankee have died.  Sprinkling their ashes in the bed of forget me not flowers.

Now, I wake up every morning with a vast view of the bay and the mountains, drink tea and hot chocolate on the large deck, and work on my photography and writing in my large studio space which Taz has so generously provided and furnished for me, with the view of the fields out back and the acres of fireweed, flocks of Sandhill Cranes and pale, round hay bales.  

I often write in the loft, a nurturing and quiet space, tucked above the living room, where the heat wraps around my body like an old, worn and dearly loved wool blanket and I devour the view.

I love my life with Taz and I love sharing his home, this large house with its seemingly endless rooms and hallways, and its vast views of surrounding Alaskan beauty.  

I sometimes joke that I wish we could have picked up my cabin and moved it on to Taz's property, so I could have accesses to both places I have come to love.

I will always be grateful for my time on Noview Avenue.  From the first few years when there was no road and I had to walk in to the latter years when the landlords moved in across the yard.

In the winters, before the road was put in, I used my body to forge an access through the waist high snow, and in the spring, when the road became mud, my feet would be thick and heavy by the time I got to the door.

Loading my laundry in to my large backpack and walking to the nearby laundromat every few weeks was an adventure.  Friends would comment that it looked like I was running away from home, and inevitably, some kind soul would stop and ask if I needed a ride.

Filling an empty garbage bag with plastic water jugs, I'd walk or drive to the grocery store, where I'd fill them with water, using the access tap near the front of the building.  In the winters when I chose not to drive, I'd call a cab and lug my water jugs home or, more often than not, someone would see me and offer me a ride.  

Then, I'd tie a sled to my waist and haul the heavy jugs to the cabin, across the snow and ice.  Later years, when the road was put in, it was much more simple and I'd just unload the water jugs from my car and carry them in to the house.

Because I chose, sought out this life, it was always a pleasure and never a chore.  This life was adventurous, creative and fun.  I never for a moment regretted it.  There were times when it would have been nice to wake up and take a shower without having to get dressed and leave the house, but it was never a burden.

Coming home to my cabin was always a delight and my heart would overflow with joy at the lights on in the window, Spankee perched on the bookshelves in the loft, overseeing the driveway.

When Gidget died while we were in Canada, Spankee and I made the trip back up the Alaska Highway, and back in to our cabin.  When Spankee died just over a year ago, what had been my home for so long began to feel empty.  I had never lived in the cabin without him and my home became a shell, a cage.

Life is full of transitions and changes, some we choose, some choose us. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Conversion

Here in Homer, many of us are converting our homes from propane and heating fuel to natural gas.

We started the process yesterday and it will take a few more days to complete the endeavor.  

Right now, our house resembles a Costco store, as we've had to move items from shelves to allow the workers to get at what they need too.






Sunday, February 9, 2014

Amazing Celtic Group Plays in Homer

video

Lunasa hails from Ireland and rocked the high school auditorium last night.

Thanks to Homer Council on the Arts for bringing them here.

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Impressions of Nome

After missing one flight and then the next flight being cancelled, we spent an extra day night and day in Nome and took the time to further explore this small community in the Bering Straits area of Western Alaska. This is our second time to Nome. The first was Summer Solstice 2010. We both really love the area and we're already planning a return trip in the fall. 

The people are very friendly and one of our joys was walking down the street and having a local call out our name. We took in an evening dance fundraiser, featuring King Island dancers, which was spectacular. We were invited to join in the dancing, which was very special.

The beauty of the landscape is absolutely surreal any time of the year. Being there in the winter months and watching the sun rise and set over the sea left us breathless. The region is experiencing a very warm winter; in fact, it was in the mid 50's when we arrived!  Elders shared that they have never experienced this in their lifetime.  For the seven days that we were in Nome, the ice was constantly shifting, forming  pressure ridges that were different each time we went out to view them.

When we left, there was a light dusting of snow, but the weather was still warm, leaving locals and visitors alike wondering if the famous Iditarod dogsled race will happen this year... 

While we were in town to meet small business owners to promote the USDA energy program we work with, we got to tour the interior of many historic buildings, including the Nome Nugget, the oldest running newspaper in all of Alaska, the Board of Trade Saloon, Nome's oldest bar, as well as a couple of Churches, restaurants, houses-turned coffee shops and more. We worked hard, meeting with people daily and signed clients up.  Now, we're busy networking referrals out in to the smaller communities of the Bering Straits Region.

In 2010, we drove all 200 miles of the various roads in the area, leading to the communities of Teller, Council and then the North Road.  This trip, these roads were blocked by ice and snow because they are only maintained by the city for the first few miles. One day, we drove the road to Teller as far as we could and then walked several miles in. Another day, we drove the north road and were treated to 360 degree views of white-cloaked hills and then a spectacular sunset that dusted the landscape in pale pinks, peaches and blues. 

We love Homer, but are leaving a little bit of our hearts in Nome.