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There are some places, that when you go there you can’t be anywhere else. You mind does not wander. |
I am looking at a bit of embroidery my grandmother made, right here beside me, and it holds not only her touch, it holds the time she took to make it, does it also hold something of her consciousness? I think so. Maybe art is what comes out of the other end of the space time cornucopia shaped vacuum cleaner – out of the other side of the black hole that sucks up all our energy and time. It was pointed out to me that when trees drop their leaves the nutrients go back into the soil by a lot of diverse bio activity - and the tree uses those compounds to make new leaves! Maybe these are the kinds of things we think when we've been at home a long time. If any of this resonates with you please let me know. I am now as always yours, Ann |
I started a mailing list - and this is my first letter...
Right now, I want to share an idea.
At this time we have a unique ability to embrace a world of hand-made objects because so many people are taking the time to make them, and peoples' habits of consumption have changed.
As a result of the pandemic, for instance, I stopped shopping for entertainment.
That and always being at home with my stuff made me reconsider what I needed, what I wanted, and how I use things. I had to reconsider the value of objects.
All of the manufactured items we have in our home were, in the past, fashioned by ourselves or other people. My father used to tell me that when he was very young, ninety years ago, peoples’ clothes were generally made one garment at a time, tailored to that specific person. Now, of course, almost all clothes, and many other things we live with are ready made. And, yeah, this is over simplified.
But, with the pandemic, where we’ve had some time on our hands, many people have turned to making things they needed themselves. We’ve been growing some vegetables, getting out the sewing machines to make masks, and even cutting up plastic bags to knit with ‘plarn’.
Not only that, but a lot of people have turned to crafting and there now is an abundance of on-line artisan shops filled with unique hand made goods. That's a lot of art! And, the really neat thing is these crafted objects connect us to the makers. When we use these crafted items we invite others into our daily lives in a subtle but meaningful way. Holding a handmade object is, well, holding an other person's hand.
In thinking about making art and trying to spread it around I recognize that anything that is crafted communicates - it holds not only the maker's intentions, but also the time-space-actions of the person who make it. And when we pick up that thing we hold, not only the history of that persons space-time-actions, but also something of their thoughts, their consciousness. Is this like dharma – or spooky action at a distance?
I think more handmade things might be helpful in our lives at this time where it is difficult to be with other people. Probably also a good antidote to stress. One has to be a bit more mindful using something handmade.
That’s it for now. Just a train of thought. What do you think?
At this time we have a unique ability to embrace a world of hand-made objects because so many people are taking the time to make them, and peoples' habits of consumption have changed.
As a result of the pandemic, for instance, I stopped shopping for entertainment.
That and always being at home with my stuff made me reconsider what I needed, what I wanted, and how I use things. I had to reconsider the value of objects.
All of the manufactured items we have in our home were, in the past, fashioned by ourselves or other people. My father used to tell me that when he was very young, ninety years ago, peoples’ clothes were generally made one garment at a time, tailored to that specific person. Now, of course, almost all clothes, and many other things we live with are ready made. And, yeah, this is over simplified.
But, with the pandemic, where we’ve had some time on our hands, many people have turned to making things they needed themselves. We’ve been growing some vegetables, getting out the sewing machines to make masks, and even cutting up plastic bags to knit with ‘plarn’.
Not only that, but a lot of people have turned to crafting and there now is an abundance of on-line artisan shops filled with unique hand made goods. That's a lot of art! And, the really neat thing is these crafted objects connect us to the makers. When we use these crafted items we invite others into our daily lives in a subtle but meaningful way. Holding a handmade object is, well, holding an other person's hand.
In thinking about making art and trying to spread it around I recognize that anything that is crafted communicates - it holds not only the maker's intentions, but also the time-space-actions of the person who make it. And when we pick up that thing we hold, not only the history of that persons space-time-actions, but also something of their thoughts, their consciousness. Is this like dharma – or spooky action at a distance?
I think more handmade things might be helpful in our lives at this time where it is difficult to be with other people. Probably also a good antidote to stress. One has to be a bit more mindful using something handmade.
That’s it for now. Just a train of thought. What do you think?
In the morning when it's below freezing I see the rhododendron leaves have rolled up to protect themselves against the cold. They will unfurl in the sun. Probably a lesson here... | Watchful, in the moment and aware --- Okay, also more than a bit anxious. |
When I read history there is often talk of strife, war and disaster - but little talk of how every day life unfolds - or how we are supposed to feel about it or go on. Right now the sun is out - I need to stay mostly at home - I am very lucky since I have a home and more than enough. I am learning I don't need a lot of things I thought I needed. the world turns around, I continue to do everyday small things. I remember the Buddhist phrase that duty is dharma and that just being aware of what you are doing is enough.
Venus is bright and outshines the lights of my house. Sirius the dog star is visible even in the twilight and against the onslaught of eclectic lights that drowns out the night sky. The world continues to be part of a vast universe.
Family and people close to us are important even when we can't see them in this time or place. | Lots of finished ware waiting to get photographed - which is still a steep learning curve for me. |
I have been lost for some time now, but it’s only now that I’ll admit it.
I probably should have acknowledged it before – if I had, then, I would no doubt be closer to knowing where I lost track of where I was – and I’d be on my way back. But, now I only see the steep slope I am on, trees surround me and obscure the sky, lush damp undergrowth covers the ground, and fallen logs and broken trees parts - playing out their part in the timeless cycle of hosting new trees that is integral to a wet pacific northwest mountain forest wall me in.
No path or sign of one.
I have a heavy bag of rocks. It’s just above freezing.
people have begun to dig all over the place - here by the side of the road. | Still, I can hear the freeway in the valley far below and I have cell service. But, I am tired and I have about an hour of light left on this late November day. |
I went to look for crystals. It’s not a secret place by any means. It's listed on maps, on line, and in all the rock hound and local geology books. Usually there are other cars at the trail head, but this day, I was alone.
The rocks here are very special. theses appeared by my feet - often separated from the rock by erosion (or by digging) - then floated up through the soil by water. It takes a lot of looking - staring at the ground - which, I found, can be disorientating.

The planet is alive! There are some amazing outcrops of exfoliating granite - the pressure is off the pluton and layers of rock are simply peeling away like dead skin cells.
You walk on the side of a mountain. The trail is uphill and open for the first half mile, and for the second half is more like a tunnel through the woods with a steep cliff on the down hill side that opens occasionaly for views of mountains - currently dusted with snow - on the other side of the valley. The ribbon of I-90 growls far below. At the end the path just stops - a landscape opens before you – actually the woods more or less close around you - as you move into a very dark and barren looking area - the trees and the steep angle of the slope create constant shadow.
Here the forest is mostly younger evergreen trees, many of the larger older tress are just stumps - logged long ago. They all cling precariously to the incline. To add to the uncertainty, every stump and every tree hangs on a shelf created by the excavation beneath. Exposed roots dangle, sometimes dripping water over a gaping hole beneath. The dug earth and rocks spew out around the mouth making a wide fan of debris. These make good foot holds in the otherwise steep terrain.
I noticed there has been a lot more digging since I’ve been here in the spring. A lot of people have been at work. I met some of the young self-styled miners at a recent gem and mineral show. A few come here but, the ones hosting tables have claims in other places in this valley. They post photos of crystal formations freshly dug and for sale as well as photos showing them with gas powered jack hammers on Instagram. Their finds are impressive.
I wanted to see for myself how these gems grow out of the mountains. But, I remember one told me a tree fell on one of his friends and killed him, so I planed to be cautious.
I know I’m not up to digging. I wont be finding the trophies they do. I will only be looking on the ground for what others have missed and for chunks of rocks which have crystals in them that show how they’ve formed.
And there should be plenty to chose from on this day. I picked this day because it was the first sunny days after weeks of rain – rains which should have exposed these overlooked crystals, and the last day, perhaps, before the snow closes the mountain area off.
It can take until June before the area is open again.
Some crystals I found lose - and a crystal bearing rock left behind by someone with ambition to dig and break rocks.
It was around eleven o’clock when I turned off the path and headed up the slope – it looked like an area with some new digging and the earth was the yellow ocher color that I knew hosted crystals.
I am always on a slope, going up, climbing, the ground unnaturally close to my face. Going across I am digging in the soil with my boots. This ground, bare of growth, glitters in the light of my head lamp.
Up I went. Chunks of sparkling rock beckoning me on. Further and further up and into the unknown – filling up my right pocket with small stuff, the left one with special stuff, and some bags with larger chunks of rock with crystals which I stowed in my back pack.
Around twelve fifteen, I stopped for water and ate part of a peanut butter sandwich and some apple slices I had packed. I drank water from my bottle. I thought I could see the path below me and knew where I was. I sent some pictures to Dave. I had been in contact with him all along, making sure I was within cell coverage. For the next hour I worked my way slowly east, parallel to the path (I believed – actually I had gone far beyond the end of the path) discovering more and more fascinating rocks.
But mostly I was looking at the ground and moving parallel to the slope.
About half past one, I am heading down hill. I send a text to Dave to say I am working my way back. We have symphony tickets and I need to get home. I follow paths down the hill and back to the east looking at the excavations for things that glitter –picking up a few more rocks. I figure I'll be out of here in half an hour, walk twenty minutes to the car, and then half an hour down I-90.
crystals in a rock - lots of big rocks filled with crystals - I wanted to take home some big ones, but could not carry them.
I am watching the ground, focused on the specific details of each patch of earth - like fishing, or birding, I am looking for the anomaly in the chaotic pattern, that which shines.
After a while I decide I to start walking west as I go down, that way I’ll intersect the trail. I pass one big charred stump that seemed wetter than the others, and soon I am in the woods. There are a few more excavations, but the ground is suddenly filled with undergrowth and I am having difficulty walking. I decide to retrace my steps; I’ll just go back.
I realize in attending to the specific - I've lost track of the general area.
I go up - no sign that is familiar, I go down - it all looks the same - and no bare ground. I assure myself I knew where I am but it doesn’t look right I cannot see the space in the tree tops that the path should make. I look up and I look down, there is still no gap in the tree tops, no line of blue sky. How did I get so far off? I am not far off; I’ll just go back - which way is back? No, I’ll head back down, there must be the path, unless maybe I’ve over shot it and need to go up - how will I know I can just walk parallel to the sound of the freeway and I’ll get back but that’s not easy and there are cliffs below the path and…
The rocks are heavy I am tired.
I don’t know where I am.
OK, I am lost.
I let that sink in for a while and try to come up with a plan. Clearly I am just spiraling about. Going in circles is bad. I need a plan.
I don’t have a plan.
Hey, I have cell service!My phone works!
I call Dave. He picks up. I am so glad for that - I say - I’m lost.
Huh. He starts to think. Well, you can...
I cut him off. I want to think out loud. It’s not that bad. I’m not far from where I need to be. I just don’t know which way I’m off. I can just head west parallel to the sound of the freeway but it’s difficult to move through the forest and it’s now almost three. I am not hurt. But I am tired.
Why don’t you call 911 and see if they can locate you with your phone. Then call me right back.
Huh, maybe, just maybe, my phone knows where I am, maybe I can just look, maybe it is that easy - I pull up google maps.
The little blue pin dot appears on a yellow background - it's me! And it shows the path!
It can’t be this easy. But maybe it is.
I am just below the path and to the east of it.
At the end of the path, almost to my car! | After calling Dave back, I trudge up hill. Driving home - what a beautiful world! |
Friday, the next day, I see a pal in the grocery store. I tell her I was lost in the woods.
Aughh, did you have bear spray?
I didn’t see any bears.
They can see you!
Dave points out later that the trouble with bear spray is you have to have the big can. The little ones squirt out just enough to piss them off.
I wondered about the experience - how did I get lost? We almost always feel we know where we are in the modern world.
When I was learning to fly a plane I was told about the cascading series of mistakes that can occur when things go wrong; how you can lose control of the plane and crash in less than a minute; how having the clarity of mind to make the correct decision soon enough to pull out of that spiral in time, is the only way out. You get one chance. You needs to act decisively. Don't panic - fall back on your training. You keep Situational Awareness at all times.
Once, when I was practicing landing and my instructor was chatting away I looked at the air speed indicator and knew we were about to stall, which would mean auguring in. I pushed the yoke forward and pointed the plane down, even though we were only a few hundred feet from the ground. The only way to pick up airspeed. I just did it. The training kicked in. The plane recovered lift and I leveled out. It worked. I didn’t auger in, but I might have.
We are, I believe, in life, lost a lot more times than we know.
I got found only when I admitted I was lost. The rest turned out to be easy.
The bears are another issue.
Some of what if found after being washed up. I think the one in front has a tiny bit of purple -which would make it a tiny bit of an amethyst. These are not worth anything - but so cool to wonder about the crystals growing inside the rocks. It's an amazing planet!
As always, I think about anomalies in a chaotic pattern - in the river as well as patterns of my behavior as well as that of the fish. (from a fishing blog)

Some years ago, I learned from my guide,(*) that the way to find fish in the Everglades was to look for the anomaly in the chaotic pattern – to do this I had to look through the surface pattern of the shallow water, complete with reflection, to the pattern of the wave-brushed sand and underwater plants on the bottom, just a few feet below, to see if I could spot something that didn’t belong. That would often be the redfish. Now cast to it, but cast to its head because if you cast to its tail you’ll spook it, which I did, although not always, at which time you get to see a cloud of mud billowing out in its own dynamic pattern, the pattern of turbulence in a fluid.
I’ve taken this advice to the rivers around here, from the small blue lines to the larger ones. Although, I can’t see the same things one can see in the transparent Floridian waters, I use the general principal. I am still looking for the areas of change in the dynamic hydraulic pattern, looking for variation, a slow spot beside fast water - a seam – because that indicates a place of slower water that the fish can hold in while the food passes by.
There is hydraulic geometry in the rivers, and any body of water, and one can develop an eye for finding the spots where things change – for that anomaly in the strange un-patterned pattern of the flow. (Misconfiguration of the configuration – it’s a fascinating ambiguity that is so very tangible – like the wake of a boat, always changing but seemingly always consistent and all but solid thought constantly changing to remain consistent over distance and through time - yeow - hold that thought.)
When you can see the river and the system in this way it becomes easier to understand where you should be casting to and how you want the fly to drift. Funny if you think of the other definition of current it makes an odd kind of sense – it’s where things are right now.
When I began to look for birds – and I am a very amateur birder – I also found that the key was to look into the fractal pattern of the trees in the terrain and find the inconsistency, that shape in the chaotic pattern that did not fit in, and that glitch in the flow was often a bird, although sometimes it was a bunch of leaves or debris in a bush - but it was some thing different.
I thinking now of calculus, where begin to isolate the concept of change as a quantity we can make concrete with a number. As when we consider acceleration as a function of speed, we can only see change as somehow solid if we take movement with speed as a given state. In calculus, Acceleration is the first derivative of the equation, its instantaneous change. So is finding the anomaly in the turbulence. So are, I find, many ideas that hold my attention.
Often when we listen to music, we find the greatest insight where the musician or composer sets up an expectation by repetition and then takes our imagination elsewhere, somewhere just slightly beyond where we expected to go. When Billie Holiday, for instance, sings just slightly against the beat or when someone rearranges a familiar tune – what we are hearing is that derivative – that instantaneous change from our expectations.
When we hear this derivative we hold the original in our imagination as a comparison so what we savor in the hearing of the is the difference – we hear the change.
And much as the derivative is instantaneous, it is removed from time, thus when we experience this – do we, in fact, gain some kind of new perspective – do we get, at least for a moment, unstuck in time? Because we hold the experience so much in the layers of remembered, imagined and instantons experience do we unlock ourselves from the regular beat of the clock?
I’ve taken this advice to the rivers around here, from the small blue lines to the larger ones. Although, I can’t see the same things one can see in the transparent Floridian waters, I use the general principal. I am still looking for the areas of change in the dynamic hydraulic pattern, looking for variation, a slow spot beside fast water - a seam – because that indicates a place of slower water that the fish can hold in while the food passes by.
There is hydraulic geometry in the rivers, and any body of water, and one can develop an eye for finding the spots where things change – for that anomaly in the strange un-patterned pattern of the flow. (Misconfiguration of the configuration – it’s a fascinating ambiguity that is so very tangible – like the wake of a boat, always changing but seemingly always consistent and all but solid thought constantly changing to remain consistent over distance and through time - yeow - hold that thought.)
When you can see the river and the system in this way it becomes easier to understand where you should be casting to and how you want the fly to drift. Funny if you think of the other definition of current it makes an odd kind of sense – it’s where things are right now.
When I began to look for birds – and I am a very amateur birder – I also found that the key was to look into the fractal pattern of the trees in the terrain and find the inconsistency, that shape in the chaotic pattern that did not fit in, and that glitch in the flow was often a bird, although sometimes it was a bunch of leaves or debris in a bush - but it was some thing different.
I thinking now of calculus, where begin to isolate the concept of change as a quantity we can make concrete with a number. As when we consider acceleration as a function of speed, we can only see change as somehow solid if we take movement with speed as a given state. In calculus, Acceleration is the first derivative of the equation, its instantaneous change. So is finding the anomaly in the turbulence. So are, I find, many ideas that hold my attention.
Often when we listen to music, we find the greatest insight where the musician or composer sets up an expectation by repetition and then takes our imagination elsewhere, somewhere just slightly beyond where we expected to go. When Billie Holiday, for instance, sings just slightly against the beat or when someone rearranges a familiar tune – what we are hearing is that derivative – that instantaneous change from our expectations.
When we hear this derivative we hold the original in our imagination as a comparison so what we savor in the hearing of the is the difference – we hear the change.
And much as the derivative is instantaneous, it is removed from time, thus when we experience this – do we, in fact, gain some kind of new perspective – do we get, at least for a moment, unstuck in time? Because we hold the experience so much in the layers of remembered, imagined and instantons experience do we unlock ourselves from the regular beat of the clock?
Of course, this looking for what moves against the pattern is a good way to analyze anything visual – which is my business when it comes to painting – as an artist, we set up a chaotic pattern, one with dynamics but not regularity per see, and then mess with the viewer expectations.
In my images you see what you expect to see, the landscape or the flowers, however there are many other things going on that you need to both see and see beyond in order to recognize the image and that is what I, as the artist, am so very interested in.
In my images you see what you expect to see, the landscape or the flowers, however there are many other things going on that you need to both see and see beyond in order to recognize the image and that is what I, as the artist, am so very interested in.
There is the time represented in the image, the snap shot of a view, as well as the time you get to look at the frozen moment, as well as the time the is embedded in the image that it took to make it.
A lot of visual art is about the experience of seeing - perceiving the world though our senses and then the processing - our brains are not so different from photoshop - but it's the program, the unique and personal program of the artist that we share. In this way art shapes the way culture looks at the world.
A lot of visual art is about the experience of seeing - perceiving the world though our senses and then the processing - our brains are not so different from photoshop - but it's the program, the unique and personal program of the artist that we share. In this way art shapes the way culture looks at the world.
And I am putting in my personal angle in the images I make - Sentience is amazing.
*Let me credit Ned Small @ Sightfish.com, is the guide with the advice on how to see fish as the anomaly in the chaotic pattern. Thank you so much for so many ideas.
*Let me credit Ned Small @ Sightfish.com, is the guide with the advice on how to see fish as the anomaly in the chaotic pattern. Thank you so much for so many ideas.
Personal Blog
this section is devoted to what's on my mind - and reflections of the process of being an artist and blogging about it. - Ann Heideman
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