Childhood Moments

The three dancers skipped over the hardwood floor of the gallery, pretending to catch fireflies. They reenacted childhood, creating through their choreography moments of joy and wonder. I was there showing two of my collages as part of the show The Artist’s Childhood. Each of the exhibiting artist showed work that represented a window into their past. I showed my pieces Blueberry Queen complete with princesses, witches and toads and Recipe for a Fairytale with wolf and moon and dreaming child.

My two-year-old niece Ellie was there representing childhood first hand. She was mesmerized by the dancers and sat quietly throughout their dance. After, however, she was happy to grab my hands and flit around the dance floor. “See my tutu,” she said grabbing on to her tulle skirt.

The dance brought me back to the days my grandfather would walk us down the dirt roads by his schoolhouse, jars with punched lids in hand, and allow us to catch the lightening bugs with glowing rumps. It was like catching enchantment in a jar. But these were only memories of childhood, hidden but close to the surface, easy to recall. The next evening I spent a moment in childhood, touring the realms of imagination with Ellie.

After dinner she insisted on visiting Best Buy, entering the store with the declaration “Let’s check out what I want for my birthday.” She then ran down the car stereo aisle, pressing every button and turning every dial. She stopped at every camera instructing me to “say cheese” as she lifted one eye toward the lens. She made me say “cheese” at each and every one.

Then we hit the painted circle in the middle of the store. “This is my swimming pool,” she declared, getting down on the floor in her pretty green dress, hiking it up and exposing her pull-up.

“I think it’s a store, Ellie,” I said, “you should get up,” feeling like I at least owed her parents an attempt at keeping her off the germ-ridden floor.

“Nope, it’s a swimming pool,” she declared. “Wiggle, wiggle,” as she kicked her legs and moved her arms, swimming on the dirty floor.

“Let’s do yoga,” she said next, reaching her hands to the sky. Soon she was leading customers and staff in downward dog. “It’s a swimming pool,” she said again, dropping to the floor. And, it didn’t end, not quickly anyway. And, in those moments she stole me from the adult world, away from the realm of responsibility and memory in which we remember childhood from afar. Better than any magician or any choreographed moment, better than any picture or recipe I could concoct, she whisked me into her world of spontaneity and freedom where there were no stores, no dirty floors, just endless depths of possibility waiting to explore.

Postcard

A couple of months ago I received an email from one of the workers at the St. Augustine Humane Society in Florida. It seemed she owned a pug named Lucky and had stumbled across one of my greeting cards featuring Waffles while cruising the Internet. The Humane Society was looking for an image for the postcards they send out to their grooming clients and they wanted to know if they could use my image of Waffles stopping to smell the roses, so to speak. I have been looking for ways to help humane societies and rescues and found this a wonderful way to do so. I granted them rights to produce a card. Last week I finally got to see the result when the postcard arrived in the mailbox. I hope to get it framed and hang it in my office.

Barbecue and Seminar

Before attending my encaustic painting class tonight, I stopped by for a barbecue and some educational seminars at my vet's Country Animal Hospital. Dr. Jessica Jones took over the practice last year and has been introducing a lot of interesting and useful services such as these demos and talks. I couldn't stay long tonight but I was able to catch two of the educational sessions. The first was a grooming demo. The groomer suggested we bathe our dogs every two weeks and demonstrated different types of grooming tools such as the Furminator.

I also heard Dr. Erika Keady speak on parasites, a gross but interesting topic. I was the lucky winner of a raffle full of gift items including a tee shirt, puppy snacks, a tick removing tool, a dog collar and much more. It was fun and educational and the burgers were good, too.

Scenes from Class

I had my third encaustic painting class tonight. We started with photo transfers on to a wax surface. You basically apply a xerox print to the wax, which you burnish and then use water to theoretically remove the paper and keep the xeroxed image. I say theoretically because it can be a tricky process and my tiger lost it's head and a lot of it's limbs in the process. You can see some of its stripes.

I prepared another board by pasting one of my digital collages to it. We will be working with that next week. I also gessoed a second board to create a smooth polished surface also to use next week and concluded the class by playing with wax on paper.

I think this wax on paper image will make a great collage background. Here are some more scenes from the class:

Something New

Over the last year my photographs have been chosen for two Healing with Arts shows at the Norris Cotton Cancer Center at DHMC in Lebanon, N.H. At the last show a fellow artist told me about a four-week class on encaustic painting or painting with pigments mixed with hot wax. We had discussed this before because we were both interested in introducing new elements to our art. The digital collages I make end up being 2-D prints of my work, but I am always interested in introducing 3-D elements and texture to see what they add to a picture when it is once again scanned and compressed into a 2-D image. I thought wax might be an interesting option.

The class has been a lot of fun in spite of the fact that I've had to relax during the learning process, something that is not easy for me to do, and be willing to make mistakes. The first night we took a square wooden board and covered it with wax and experimented with various techniques to add texture, carve into the surface and to add stencils. Our teacher taught us two different stenciling techniques to add decorative designs to our pieces and I, of course, chose to add pugs. As an aside, the instructor noted that she was very impressed that I could create stencils of pugs on the spot from memory (oh, how little does she know!)

For week two, the instructor suggested that we bring in some of our own images that we wished to use in our encaustic works. I brought in several of my photo collages.

She taught us two dipping techniques for covering the image with wax and then had us experiment by using some other materials she had in her studio such as Papilio Metallic Transfer Paper and Saral Transfer Paper. We also used National Geographic to transfer images to our work.

I used the Papilio Metallic Transfer Paper to add gold scarabs to my waxed-dipped collage and the Saral Transfer Paper in white to combine two images from National Geographic, placing them at the bottom of the piece.

While working on the image in class I already began to formulate some ideas for what I wanted to do with it when I got home and could experiment in Photoshop. I knew I wanted to keep elements of the original collage such as the colors and feel, but that the new elements were more of a distraction than a complement. I loved, however, how the bottom portion of the image looked. I decided that I would cut it out either literally or in Photoshop and then put it on a new background. Once I got it in Photoshop, however, I began playing around with blurring the background and adding new elements to the image. I had originally planned on waiting to sew on the wax, which has an unique feel and appearance, before manipulating the image in Photoshop, but I couldn't wait and ended up really liking the result. I used both the image of my waxed-dipped collage and my encaustic painting on wood, merging them in Photoshop to create a more textured background. I then began experimenting by adding photographs I have in my "materials" folder in Photoshop. I am far from finished as I want to still print the piece out and experiment with thread and paint and drawing and may even change the piece further or create a whole new one as I progress in my next two classes, but wanted to share with everyone what I have done so far. The instructor is supposed to teach us how we can set up our own encaustic studios or workspaces, which I hope I can do (You need a space that is well-ventilated) because I like the texture it adds to the collages, but also think I could produce some interesting traditional pieces as I learned the techniques better. I'll continue to post pictures as the collage progresses.The friend who introduced me to the encaustic class often prints  her work out on aluminum and I am considering doing so with this piece when it is complete.

For now I'm calling it "Prayer."

Bike Path

The thing about paths is you never know where they might lead. Who knew that when I finally mustered up my courage last year and got back up on a bicycle after 30 years off that less than 10 months later I'd be cycling in my first ever fundraising event—The 6th Annual Lund Bike Ride for Children. Sure, it was only a four-mile family ride, but it was a ride. Me, who used to twist her ankles  and cut her legs until they'd bleed just to get out of gym class, doing something that didn't just resemble something athletic, but that was public at that! I don't know if I could have been more proud of myself if it was a 100-mile marathon! Sure, we had some trouble making it up the hills—my sister-in-law was toting her 40 lb. toddler—but we took our time and congratulated ourselves at the effort. We also got to be outside enjoying a beautiful day and some wonderful scenery.

Unless you've been one of those uncoordinated, overweight or ungainly kids who just couldn't seem to do anything from hit a baseball to score a basket, you can't understand just how monumental it is to not only take part in something like that, but to begin to think of yourself as something other than one of those kids, to begin to see yourself not only as someone who can ride a bike, but ride a bike for a cause. You can't know what it feels like to find yourself taking enjoyment in such an experience and not worrying if others see you or if you fail. This might have been called a Ride for Children, but I found myself on Sunday morning doing it for one child in particular–the little girl inside me who used to duck her head at duck, duck goose and pray she'd never have to get up and run and the little girl who used to love to ride her bouncy ball horse across the lawn before anyone told her what she couldn't do or that she didn't measure up. I pedaled my bike up and down those 4 hilly miles for that little girl and for my niece beside me, so both would know that we could do it and that it was fun!

What is Blogpaws?

If you google Blogpaws online you'll quickly learn that it is a pet community and social media marketing conference. Pet bloggers gather to network, learn blogging tips and tricks, explore new products and information. It's about making new friends and connecting with old — people and pets alike. It's about moments like those featured here:

Although there were lots of pets in clothing at Blogpaws, Coco the Couture Cat has to have one of the largest and most impressive wardrobes. Last year, I took a shot of Coco that received a lot of publicity. It appeared along with an article by Jo Singer on a site called Pictures of Cats. Many people had strong opinions against dressing cats in clothes, but seeing all the smiles Coco brings and the stately way she stares out from her perch, it becomes a difficult argument to make.

A ferret and its owner walk the red carpet on the final night of Blogpaws. Although I did not get this creature's name, I enjoyed watching the way it interacted with its owner, draping around her neck and shoulders and resting in her arms. I have often heard that ferrets can be mean, but this little one dispels that rumor.

I "met" Ms. California, Shanna Olson and her doggie celebrities online a week before Blogpaws when I liked her Doggie Celebrities Facebook page. Kimberly Gauthier is well known in the pet blogging community for her site Keep the Tail Wagging.

Mealtimes were among my favorite moments at Blogpaws because you'd get to see all these wonderful pets sharing the dining room with the people.

This little kitty participated in a fashion show in which participants had mere minutes to design a look from materials on hand.

Tillman is a rock star and youtube sensation. This skateboard riding dog travels in his own tour bus and loves his board, barely waiting for his handlers to hand it over before taking off.

This 60-pound, six-month-old capybara named Mia, had to be one of the most interesting attendees at Blogpaws. Capybaras are related to guinea pigs and are the largest rodents in the world. I loved watching the dogs checking out the capybara, trying to ascertain exactly what this creature is.

What is Blogpaws? It's a chance to dress up, dispel myths, share information, network, eat, skate your way into each other's hearts, sniff each other out and decide to be friends.  Blogging, the pet industry and the human-animal bond are serious subjects, but the animals at the heart of Blogpaws can't help but make you laugh. These are joy magnets and they draw you back again and again.

My Story

It's been a desert for a while. Truth be known I haven't figured out this writing thing--writing for a living, writing blog posts, writing a book, writing festivals, two-page prompts, blogging conferences, teaching writing, correcting papers. I've only got so many words in me before I feel like the well is dry. The story that is my life continues, but admittedly I've left you out of it, drawing back the curtain here and there, revealing only a peek.

From the very beginning of the blog I've struggled with what it is, how to make it one thing when I'm so many. Is it a dog blog, a memoir, a site to sell my art, promote my photography, share my writing? "A site for lovers of pugs, small dogs, writing, art and photography is a mouthful" and is it accurate? My web designers listened to me describe myself and came up with it, but sometimes I drown in its complexity, suffocate to put on the straight jacket and be only one thing. Alternatively, exhausting myself in trying to be all at once. Nobody knows who they are starting out, of course, we all change and grow, but the very fact I rely on web designers, on others makes me hesitant to experiment--it comes with a cost.

Have you figured out this isn't just about the blog yet? You won't violate your family in becoming more of you a counselor once told me. It's hard to figure out who you are when you are trying to be all things to all people. It's hard to be who you are when you confine yourself to someone's singular vision of you.

As recently as last week I lied to my best friend about my then upcoming trip to Las Vegas. True, I was sick and wasn't sure I was going, wasn't sure I could spare the time away, wasn't even sure if it was something I even wanted to do or if it was something I craved. How does a person not know that? How do you explain all that to a friend when she innocently asks "I heard you might be away this week?" She wouldn't be mad, but there are those in my life who might or might offer their unsolicited judgment. Where does she get the time or the money to do that, I imagine them saying, sometimes even hear it to my face, by people with more time and money than I'll ever have. But instead of telling them to f*** off, I tell her no, I don't think so.  I try to become a smaller target, ask permission, lie, cover up even as one resilient, brilliant part of myself struggles like  a flickering lightbulb to shine.

I go to Vegas and fess up to her at least. I go to Blogpaws where people have these neat niche blogs about dogs and cats and even rodents of unusual size (it's an actual organization) and listen as they talk about securing sponsors who will indeed seek out their blogs because they are easy to comprehend and digest. They have their elevator pitch in place-we work to promote pet heath, we rescue canaries, we write from the point of view of our cats.

I go to writers festivals and people share their stories of domestic abuse, incest, a year spent with pirates. I'm writing about my pugs and their breeder, I say and worry I am no longer taken seriously. Should I send my writing students and my editors to my blog? Is this revealing too much of myself?

You shouldn't care what other people think, but what if you're not sure what you think? Do you know you've been talking about Blogpaws since you came back last year, my mother says, using this as proof that I want to go. Maybe that's because I've been trying to decide I argue. It's another lie, I do know what I think, but I say it in such a tiny, quiet voice it's hard to hear.

The problem's not the blog or even figuring out who I am. It’s learning how to be me—the all-over-the-place, many things at once, always moving, always changing, totality of me without apologizing. It’s learning that I don’t have to have all the i’s dotted, the t’s crossed and the curtains hung in place just so before moving forward, before sharing who I am with the world.

That same friend‑the one I lied to, she reminded me of the poem I wrote and shared in the neighboring town’s month-long celebration of poetry. In it I write about my struggle as a photographer to take in the whole scene – “Decide what it is you are trying to say,” a photographer suggests, “with a nod and a period as if that settles the matter.”

“It doesn’t,” I write. “The story pretty much tells itself.” I guess that’s it. I can pre-package and assemble, rearrange and try to put it all in place and just like I return to the struggle, the answer is always the same. Me and my blog? Me and my story? Just like all of you, we’re more than one thing and who we really are always comes to the surface.

So what does this mean? For now, I hope to expand and rearrange the blog a bit, continue tweaking it to help me tell the story in a way that I feel satisfied. But, it also means I’m going to try to be more content with what’s here—not concentrating on the window dressing as much as the content. I’m gonna try to get back to updating you and sharing with you more. I’m going to try to make peace with the fact that it does no good to suck in my gut. I gotta keep letting it all hang out and be all of who I am. This is my story after all.

Peeps!

The older we get, the younger we realize we are. Some call it young at heart or spirit, but I think it's just a truth. This past winter I had the opportunity to teach my first poetry class at Harvest Hill Retirement Community in Lebanon, N.H. During the course of the class, one student, a priest, wrote a poem about creating a diorama from Peeps. I had never heard of the tradition of shaping those pastel Easter chicks and bunnies into something new, but I have learned it is quite commonplace especially in Newport, N.H. where there is an annual Peep diorama contest. My student, I mentioned she was a priest didn't I, became absolutely giddy at the thought of ripping the long gummy ears off the bunny peeps. In the past, I believe she won.

This was not the only moment of childlike glee expressed in my class. The same priest and her friend, a very proper English woman with a wonderful accent and a twinkle in her azure eyes became quite enamored with slightly off-color limericks. I have to say I missed this group when the class ended. From bellydancing to poetry readings to art field trips, this group seemed to have a better social life than I do, so I promised that when the Peep diorama exhibit rolled around I'd join them. Thus, last Tuesday I followed the bus from Harvest Hill down to Newport to survey a wide and creative array of peep dioramas. If the exact nature of my students remains in question, let me share that one of their favorite dioramas was 50 Peeps of Gray, a homage to last year's popular erotica novel 50 Shades of Gray. Following the exhibit, we drove to McDonald's and exchanged pleasantries over sundaes and McFlurries.

We took a picture of the group, which I jokingly refer to as Me and My Peeps go to See some Peeps. These people may be older than me, but the title fits us well.

The Blue Lady

I have a student who has been working on a long term project based on a statue that resides in a small grove on the Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center Campus. I have been his teacher for a number of years and as a result feel a particular fondness for The Blue Lady. Whenever I visit the hospital, I try to stop by, say "hi" to her and take her picture. Yesterday I was there to drop off two new pictures that I recently had accepted in the Healing with Art show at the Norris Cotton Cancer Center. After dropping off my two photos and picking up my two from the last time, I stopped by the grove and was horrified to find the Blue Lady's beautiful face smashed and fallen to the ground. I saw the pieces lying there and realized if the hospital knew about it they would have picked them up to preserve them. I thus, returned to the information desk and told them what I found. They promptly sent security to investigate.

My student's story is all about how this magical statue comes to life and helps a young cancer patient deal with her illness through a wonderful adventure. He describes in his book the Blue Lady's gentle expression. I would hate to think this is the end of her or that this smile would fail to grace her lips again. I hope the Blue Lady's story has a happy ending.