Mistaken For A Rebel

for the barnyard

2011-12-26T11:44:00.000-05:00

A Christmas morning treat.

These seasonal spice cookies are heavy on the molasses and loved by all the critters.

An occasional cookie hasn't hurt anyone yet, so they were a perfect sweet indulgence.

We mixed in plenty of veggies, too.

a little holiday science

2011-12-23T10:46:00.001-05:00

Winter solstice occurred yesterday, Thursday, at 12:30 a.m., Eastern time.

Yesterday I engaged in, overheard, and (thanks to social media) read quite a few conversations regarding holiday tradition.

The call to remember your "reason for the season" has been a softly pleading voice for years, but I think this year may have been the biggest backlash against black Friday and holiday gluttony I have witnessed so far. I'm happy to believe it's because a conversation has escalated that does more than demand answers about the distribution of wealth and access to opportunity in this country, it demands we ask ourselves about our personal choices. Do they reflect what we want to see in our country...in our children?

People are asking what the holiday really means to them. Many are not in the faith they grew up with, or have found meaning and purpose without religion. Parents are questioning the customs of their childhood...which to keep, which to leave behind. That's a lot to chew on at a time of celebration.

What the Solstice reminded me of is this: Science may offer an undeniable unifying element. We are all finding joy in the darkest days of our year. We are anticipating the return of the light. It's at this time that we depend on sharing, giving, and lifting each other's spirits. Family history and faith find their home here. Finding common ground does not mean leaving behind your faith, and you don't need to believe in anything other than humanity to celebrate.

When in doubt, nature has an answer.

thanks

2011-11-25T17:38:00.001-05:00

Tonight I'm thankful that I have time to paint. It's hard over a holiday, but big A has taken the kids for a movie night while I work.

Thanksgiving was the quiet, cozy, fragrant day I hoped it would be...that is until we broke into a dance party to shake off the comfort food. Many things I'm thankful for drifted through my mind as I stirred, mashed, splashed, and kneaded...

The ginkgo trees in October

dancing

good food

the forest

meeting new animals while adventuring

sisters

these guys

this guy

that I have this little space to share

that you're taking a moment to check in

that somehow I've carved out the time and space to pursue my work

that the occasional "f*** it" doesn't keep me down...that I never forget the list...that it keeps growing...

The Artist Statement (and the subject of Love)

2011-11-18T10:00:00.001-05:00

I don't meet many artist who enjoy writing about their work; as essential as it is, the artist statement is often a thorn in our sides. The purpose is to offer a platform from which the viewer can explore the work. My approach is usually to be as brief and straight forward as possible. I grumble and edit and end up with words on paper that introduce people to my work.

When I sat down to write about the paper people, the task was more difficult than ever. I prefer to have my hands tell the story, but the collection must travel with a statement. Two words came to mind, a title perhaps: necessary luxuries. The Paper People were here to be a little bit braver about the things we ~~crave~~ need, but for some reason, can't quite deem essential. They challenge our habit of keeping secret that which is most human.

private collection Philadelphia

private collection Washington DC

One day, after quite a while of having only a few lines I would commit to, I came across this quote by visual, conceptual, installation performance artist, Helene Aylon:

"Because there is a fear of sentimentality, love is not very often addressed -- and it is really the one motivation in all of our lives."

Well, there you have it, I was afraid to say it's about love. I was afraid of setting that word out to sail in a sea of misconceptions. For me love is
                               bigger
                               badder
                               brighter
                               bolder & more brilliant than my words can convey. I would prefer the paper people say it for me. As Jean-Paul Sartre put it, "There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love but that which is manifest in loving."

private collection Indiana

So, as these pieces greet the public, they will be accompanied by the sparse words that came to mind on the first day I started ripping up newspaper...a question more than a statement:

What would we share if we didn't fear?

Which simple pleasures have become necessary luxuries?

The explorations of the paper people.

jack-o'-lantern for dinner

2011-11-17T15:20:00.001-05:00

The no waste Mamas

Having to take your own trash to the dump puts you in touch with your waste very quickly. I'm happy to say our schedule has changed over the past year; there's very little that is not composted, fed to chickens, or recycled. I'd like to say it's our drive to be green, but I know big A and I are happy to avoid a smelly trash haul whenever we can!

one new sculpture

2011-11-02T21:04:00.000-04:00

Here are some pictures of one of the new sculptures. You can see more of the Paper People here.

Halloween and Tarot for Children

2011-11-01T19:23:00.000-04:00

Halloween was a blast, despite the fact that my youngest spent Mischief Night in the ER getting stitches in her finger. She was quite adamant that she did NOT need any help tackling the largest pumpkin she could haul. I applaud her determination, but next year I have the feeling she'll take me up on my ~~offer~~ plead to help.

The Halloween costume I mentioned in the last post was inspired by the character, Prunella on the Arthur show.

Prunella is a a peach colored rat who is interested in yoga, fortune telling, and paranormal phenomena. In one episode her sister, Rubella, makes a cootie catcher as a gift for Prunella's half birthday and claims that it can tell the future. We made cootie catchers after watching and started talking about other ways people play with telling fortunes. The cootie catcher gives very definite answers, maybe you remember from grade school, things like:

no way
for sure
you can bet on it
not in your dreams...

Just like in the episode, some people around here were not too thrilled with the cootie catcher's answers. I remember feeling the same way about my magic 8 ball. This got me thinking about Tarot cards; the way they act as a Rorschach test of sorts, and allow you to explore aspects of life without pushing definite answers. I looked up "children's tarot cards" on-line, not sure if I would find any. It seems that others had the same idea because there was a list of results for various ways the tarot deck could be re-imagined for children. These days the tarot deck could incorporate anything from astrology, Kabbalah, runes, I Ching, animals....so you can see how children's fables and storybook characters could find their place in the major arcana. These cards deal the human condition and their titles might remind you of fables, or Shakespeare characters. I see it as a good way to explore the human condition with the child leading the way. There is no need to lend belief to the occult to use the cards; the Tarot has been a source of inspiration and creativity for individuals simply by sparking their imaginations.

I decided to ask my kids if they wanted to illustrate their own set. After taking a look at how diverse the decks are, they dove in with their own ideas about what strength, justice, earth, fool...might look like to them.

My daughter went from curiosity about Prunella's cootie catcher, to dressing like a fortune teller for Halloween and doing "readings" (which consist of selecting some cards and then telling a story around them). The tarot deck is a work in progress and I will post some pictures soon if I get the artist's permission.

git r done

2011-10-30T16:37:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, but tell me, is there any other phrase that sums it up like that?

I did take that time I was looking for. It meant putting anything unnecessary on hold for a while. "Necessary" is relative to the goal...one can only pass on party invites, movie nights, hiking (and apparently blogging ) for so long before weariness and imbalance sets in.

The goal was reached. Commissions were completed, two new sculptures are nearing completion (one inspired by this negotiation with time)

detail of work in progress

and I'm almost ready to stock the Etsy store. Soon you will see holiday ponies in addition to the jointed birds.

Around the farm we've been getting ready for the cold weather. We moved the goats and pony to the back field. We were originally going to put electric fence back there, but ended up digging posts and making a paddock around the the little run in. I've heard how goats can be used to clear out land. After witnessing them go to town on the briers, burs, and honeysuckle I'm happy we didn't bush-hog the area first - they had it cleared in three days!

The October snow really surprised us. I was reminded how much more energy it takes to do the chores in the mud and snow and believe me, I can wait quite a while for flakes to fall again.

The weather brought on the animals' appetites. I saw three adolescent raccoons walking down the road looking for grub. The hawks are loud and bold, coming down from the mountain and taking on the annoyance of the crows in the pines. This morning we thought we lost a kitten to the birds of prey. After having two hens carried off, we now know that anything crossing the field on a clear day is up for grabs. Luckily we found Chaplin in the carriage house. This makes me worry about predators. I need to have two new coop doors made soon. I think I'll put the word out to barter for this service. We can't stand to take a loss like we did last year.

Here's a peek around:

Pip, the turkey is reaching maturity

We have roosters now ( this is a Golden Laced Polish)

and the kids are getting ready for Halloween. This year one of the costumes is inspired by, Prunella, from the Arthur show on PBS. Maybe I shouldn't be divulging this (some of us think we're too old for it) but everyone in the family loves Arthur. We watch together on Saturdays. The Prunella costume has inspired an on going art project...more on that later...

chronos and kairos

2011-09-05T20:10:00.000-04:00

I need studio time desperately! Not just 10 minutes here, or a splendid 20 minutes there, I need uninterrupted hours. Right now I've settled my bum in the chair for a few while I wait to pull a quiche from the oven before heading out to clean the stalls and check on the new dairy goats; later it's a trip to a farm with big A and the kids....all things I'm happy to do. But a clock is ticking on some deadlines. There's something I've noticed about opportunity, it seems to build like a wave and when it arrives the power can only be put to use by a series of (sometimes difficult) choices. Why couldn't the art shows, the wholesale account, and the commissions have been spaced evenly over six months?

I generally employ an "irons in the fire" approach, but I have the feeling I'm going to need to make some cuts, some purposeful cuts, before the load is lighted by dropping a ball....AND remember that there's an abundance of time for the things that truly matter. Where did I read that idea put so succinctly?

Let me check...

Okay, found it.

"Everything changed the day she figured out there was exactly enough time for the important things in her life."

— Brian Andreas

Thanks for sharing that one, Amy!

Good Practice

2011-08-27T11:44:00.005-04:00

"Mommy, are you sleeping out there?" I heard my daughter call from the back door. My eyes were open; she must have picked-up on the stillness. What is it about sitting down by the chickens that slows my breath and nudges my mind past thought? I watch it come over the kids sometimes...the eyes seeing everything and nothing for a moment as they hold a bird and listen to the sounds of the flock.

The same thing is experienced sitting within a herd of horses, or cows. After initial observation, the mind accepts the movements and sounds as a sort of rhythm. Even the occasional squabble rolls into the pattern. You are aware of it all, but without surface level thought. Could we say it's a moment of transcendental consciousness? I think time spent with the healthy herd or flock can ease us into this state of relaxation. The dramas of the human experience are reflected in the animal kingdom; we can see them cycle and resolve, but aren't pulled into unnecessary action or judgment. We are invited to share the time and space without attachment. Good practice.

Seven Roosters – Japanese Woodblock Print by Hokusai. Katsushika Hokusai (葛飾北斎, 1760 – 1849)

one year

2011-08-18T17:08:00.004-04:00

"A change of heart or of values without a practice is only another pointless luxury of a passively consumptive way of life."

- Wendell Berry

Today I noticed a sweater hanging on the hook in the hall; it was pulled out on one of the first chilly evenings spent star gazing in the back yard recently. This reminded me that in September it will be one year since our move. We've made it through a cycle.

I am thankful for the inner push that wouldn't quiet till it had come home. I used to feel that I struggled with impatience; I don't feel that any more.

What a year on this little farmette....small steps in the right direction.

Children going slowly and syncing into place

wearing out their boots

growing things

preserving

"It is possible, as I have learned again and again, to be in one's place, in such company, wild or domestic, and with such pleasure, that one cannot think of another place that one would prefer to be - or of another place at all." - Wendell Berry

a (children's) book I love

2011-07-22T18:15:00.000-04:00

Here's a book full of whimsy, truth and charm...

I'll Be You and You Be Me written by Ruth Krauss and illustrated by Maurice Sendak - Harper, 1954.

Ruth Krauss speaks the language of childhood fluently. Her playful way with words delivers a punch disguised as a dreaming pony, or a dancing rabbit. Krauss' partnership with Sendak is creative chemistry on paper. Delicate words and delicate drawings containing a force below their surface.

Sendak once explained, "I said anything I wanted because I don't believe in children I don't believe in childhood. I don't believe that there's a demarcation. 'Oh you mustn't tell them that. You mustn't tell them that.' You tell them anything you want. Just tell them if it's true. If it's true you tell them."

I can see that Krauss must have felt the same way; together they tell the truth, but they tell it in a language that belongs to everyone.

The book is a delight and joins my list of essential children's books.

I think that I'll grow

up to be a bunny

before I grow up

to be a lady.

When I read that I knew our home couldn't be without it!

heartily lusting

2011-07-16T21:40:00.001-04:00

for some of this fabric

It's our first year here on the little farm and I've been spending a lot of time outdoors creating garden beds, planting, weeding, and caring for the animals; I have'nt been spending as much time on the interior. I love to design interiors, so when I took a moment to look around I realized we needed to give things a lift. One of the major projects on my list is reupholstering a love-seat that I've been holding onto for a while because of its exquisite shape. Until I have the funds to purchase the fabric I really want, we'll continue to live with its shabby charm.

I'm looking to do something similar to this:

The designs above (which are out of my price range) are by Josef Frank, an Austrian-born architect, artist, and designer who later adopted Swedish citizenship. Together with Oskar Strnad, he created the Vienna School of Architecture, and its concept of Modern houses, housing and interiors.

Here are some quotes to give you a feel for his aesthetic:

"Every human needs a certain degree of sentimentality to feel free," Frank said... "Away with the universal styles, away with the equalization of industry and art."

“The living room, where one can live and think freely, is neither beautifully harmonious nor homogeneous. It has come about through coincidence, will never be complete and can within itself absorb whatever the residents’ varying needs may require.”

To get the full scoop on Josef Frank you might want to look here

the witches were here

2011-07-14T10:48:00.001-04:00

Today we found witches' handles in the horse's mane.

As a child my riding teacher told me that when you found these woven into the mane, it meant that witches had ridden the horse at night. What's strange about a witch's handle is that it is always woven the same way to make a loop - it's not just a knot in the hair.

I retold the story to my youngest daughter and she suggested we wait in the back yard tonight to catch the witch in the act. It would be okay, she said, because this was obviously a good witch...seeing as our little horse was returned unharmed. When we went inside I searched to see if I could find any other stories about the witches' handles. Here's one from Western Folklore, vol xxiii, April 1964, no 2.

In South rather than North America, a smaller creature has been credited with mane-braiding. In 1925, an English schoolteacher called Aime F Tschiffely (I’m saying nothing), was travelling on horseback from Buenos Aires to North America. One morning in the Columbian (sic) Andes he noticed that one of his two horses had its mane plaited. “I tried to undo it,” he wrote in Tschiffely’s Ride, “but found it tightly knotted. I asked the boy, Victor” – this was his Ecuadorian mozo (“boy” or servant) – “if he knew anything about this or if he had done it, and he immediately told me ‘El Duende’ had been with the horses during the night… It appears that El Duende… is a dwarf who lives in deep canyons and desolate valleys, where he can often be heard crying like a baby or, when he is in boisterous mood, making noises rivalling thunder. Natives firmly believe that he is very fond of horseback riding; but being so small, is unable to sit on the horses’ back, so he sits on the animal’s neck, making stirrups by plaiting the mane in such a way as to be able to put his feet in it.” [1] Duende is a complex and untranslatable word, but one of its meanings is what we would call ‘fairy’.

Interesting, I had always heard a European version of the story, but it seems that all over the world people are creating stories to explain the tying of the mane. Shakespeare mentions the handles in Romeo and Juliet:

… that very Mab That plaits the manes of horses in the night

Have any of you heard of the Witches' handles? I'm thinking some of my British friends might be familiar with the superstition.

Do you know any other fun folktales that alert us to when the witches and fairy folk have made a visit?

This story inspired the girls to make some drawings after breakfast.

removing the tag

2011-07-12T20:18:00.000-04:00

A few of you asked how I was going to remove the tag from Vera's ear. I wasn't sure because I'd never bought a tagged animal from an auction. Like so many other questions this first year on the homestead, I thought I could probably find the answer at Tractor Supply Company or Southern States.

Me: "My goat has a tag I need to remove; do you have something I can use to do it myself?"

(doing it ourselves is what keeps this whole thing going)

Tractor Supply Guy: "Yes m'am, right over here"

I know, I got m'amed, but in the context of buying a livestock ear tag remover at Tractor Supply it felt quite right. $4.99 later I was headed home to free her from her big plastic earring.

In case you were wondering, this is how it works:

The tag reads, unlawful to remove, so the first step is to ignore that.

Take the knife and slide it between the tag and the ear. You will be cutting the post that goes through the ear. Get a firm grip and gently pull on the hook while moving in a twisting motion. Do not tug too hard or you could do more damage to the ear - especially long ones like this Nubian cross has.

Next apply antiseptic to the hole in the ear to clean it and prevent infection.

It does leave quite a hole

This is what Vera thinks of ear tags

art, sex, and growing things - I want to learn more about Wanda

2011-07-10T21:06:00.001-04:00

Wanda Gag is the writer and illustrator of one of my favorite childhood books, Millions of Cats.

I've always been drawn to her work. Gag's lithographs, book illustrations, and drawings use dramatic lights and darks that bring you to a place where the sun is low and the day borders on night - a magical time when evening pulls itself around you - where everything is a little more wild. The landscapes are sinuous and coax the natural world into pattern.

Dreamy

During our last trip to the library my daughter and I found this book to take home and enjoy

In the back there was a picture of Wanda Gag

That's Wanda? I got the feeling there was probably more I wanted to know. I went home and did some quick research. Did you know that this beautiful Bohemian was truly ahead of her time? Her freethinking politics predated the feminist, sexual liberation, and back-to-nature movements by almost fifty years. She designed her own clothing and once she was financially able, she moved to her own rural farmstead in New Jersey, which she called "All Creation."

Art, sex, and growing things - that's how Wanda described her three passions, in order of their importance. At the same time that her mind was free, she was also very disciplined. As a young teenager she was left to support her six younger siblings after her parents' death. As I learn more about her life, I'm beginning to appreciate her work in a new way.

This is on the reading list - should be good

deliciously naturalized

2011-07-09T19:43:00.001-04:00

The wineberry plant is a bramble with red, bristly stems that grows up to 8 feet tall. The berry is bright red when ripe and I would describe it as a raspberry with a twist of cranberry - slightly tart. It can be found along roadsides and the edges of meadows.

The wineberry is an Asian species which was introduced to produce hybrid raspberries. The plant escaped from cultivation and became naturalized and in many cases invasive. Right now we're calling ours "deliciously naturalized" but as soon as we have to clear out the back field we'll be using the term invasive....and possibly some others.

Wineberries ripen about the same time as blackberries and raspberries; here they came in full force as the blackberries faded away. We can collect buckets full, so I'm trying them out in place of other berries in some classic recipes. Last night I made cobbler; here's a link to the recipe I used.

The kids and I experimented with juicing them and made wineberry spritzers

Since this idea is still in development, I'll spare you the recipe...let's just say it needs some tweaking.

Tomorrow I may try jelly if I feel brave.

just take a look (LIFE magazine archives)

2011-07-06T10:43:00.001-04:00

A friend(henkeepingstylestarartistmotherofthree)sent me a link last night that deserves its own post this morning. These photographs are by Nina Leen from the life magazine archives and were featured on Miss Moss (AKA "Diana who shares rad things")

Here's a teaser:

My people! These remind me of the later I Love Lucy episodes I enjoyed as a child - when she moved out to the country and started raising chickens, but never stopped wearing lipstick.

For the whole post look here.

what we brought back from the auction

2011-07-05T22:59:00.003-04:00

We've been dreaming of goats for a while; this year we decided to start with one or two and begin the learning process with the hopes of eventually have a small herd sometime down the road. We visited farms and made a few trips to the livestock auction. Let me tell you, the livestock auction is something else. Although I feel at home moving through the animals and spotting what I want from up on the rickety catwalks suspended above the pens, I am at a complete loss deciphering the Auctioneer's chant once we're in the ring (Listen here for a sample) At first I didn't understand that there are filler words that keep the rhythm rolling along, now I know to concentrate on the numbers and let the rest roll away. You can use those filler seconds to do math because you are often bidding on price per pound.

On the last visit we tucked ourselves into the crowded, dusty goat and sheep room just in time. I popped up on my toes to see over the shoulder of an overall clad giant and wiggled back and forth as children weaved their way around our legs looking for a post to climb up for a better view. I held on to the chant for a few minutes, but soon felt like I was listening to bubbles being blown in a glass of milk. Like a game of Whack-a-mole I repeatedly brought our daughter's hands back down as she waved them around whispering full force, "Oooo... that one!" We watched a few nice goats walk by with no idea what the bid was at. Oh well. Big A and I looked at each other and shrugged, then laughed at our complete incompetence.

I took the kids to the car and big A said he was going over to talk to someone and would catch-up. As we piled in and let the heat escape the van I noticed a figure walking across the parking lot with a baby goat in their arms - my husband. "Can you do something with her?" he said. All our talk of conformation and dairy lines obviously went out the window when he saw her squeezed into a pick-up truck on her way to slaughter, the smallest of a group of unlucky goats. We named her Vera after a the town of Veracruz, Nicaragua where big A enjoyed having a baby goat tag along with him and his friends one summer as a boy.

She was scared, underweight, and dehydrated. After antibiotics, worming, and eye care she's beginning to act like a goat - climbing on the rocks, head butting the dogs, and eating poison ivy.

Look at that crooked little ear - I'm in love.

the verdict is in

2011-07-03T14:32:00.000-04:00

For those of you who weighed in on the rooster post I'm back with the verdict - it looks like #3 is a rooster. For a while I was convinced #2 was a rooster too, but those with more experience say no.

Now to break the tie I'll have a chicken draw the name. Penny, the hen in charge, will draw a piece of monogrammed kale...

That's a K for Karen! Please send me your address and expect a Papier-mâché hen in about 2 weeks.

In other news, baby praying mantises have invaded

We're happy to escort them to the garden.

shifting gears - the walk that unlocked summer

2011-06-20T12:59:00.001-04:00

The last week of school is always a whirlwind-tests, conferences, picnics, parties, and endless forms to fill out. The children's anticipation builds.

Okay, we're ready – bring on summer!

After hosting an end of year party and a trip to the springs things started to wind down. We are not a family that will fill the entire summer with a string of camps. Each child has a couple activities, but I think it's important (and economical) to be able to switch gears and spend some time off of a full schedule for a while.

Well, there we were on that first day with nothing going on. Everyone was stewing in their juices. If I had some sort of app that could count how many times the word “Mommy” was called out I'm sure my high scores would have unlocked the “She/He won't leave me alone” level. Ugggg...

They were having trouble switching gears.

“Get your shoes on.” I said, “We're going on a walk.”

There was a storm brewing at the tip of the mountain, but being poured on was a small price to pay to break-up the funk.

I ignored complaints for the first five minutes. As we listed to the creek rush under the bridge our eyes cleared and our ears seamed to shift on our heads, like a fox or a pony, picking up the subtle sounds that escaped us before. Summer greeted us – not carnivals, airplanes, boardwalks and diving boards (those are great by the way) but the summer of the countryside that you can get lost in 'till you're called for dinner.

A stream to dip your toes in

a roadside lined with daylilies

A storm passing

sun breaking through

wild berries

a jar with quartz, tadpoles and snails

ending the day perfectly dirty

portrait finished - new project started

2011-06-17T15:01:00.000-04:00

I just finished this piece

This is the third and final portrait in a series of three siblings.

It feels good to have been working on a portrait because my next project will include 6 of them. If you read the blog you know I think about food quite a bit; this project is about food. More precisely, our presumptions re: people and their relationship with food. I have quite a ways to go. I finished this one this morning

These 6 x 6 inch oil on canvas portraits are half of the project - I'll share the other half as it develops.

my weeding partners (pastured chickens)

2011-06-15T16:17:00.002-04:00

The chicks are almost to the age where they can be let out on pasture with the big guys, but not quite. We had a trial run for about 40 minutes and one of the barred rocks was carried off by a hawk. Until we are able to buy a rolling hen-house for trips to the back field, I've devised a contraption to let the chicks graze with me while I'm in the garden. It's a dog crate with the pan at the bottom removed. The weave of the wire is very open and allows grass, weeds, and bugs to come through. As I move through the garden, I move them down the rows with me. The little guys love it! When I'm in the run I set down the crate, open the door and yell, "geeeeet in the craaaate" like a hog caller (it's very funny to hear our youngest try this)they all run in ready to be carried off to the field.

This is our baby turkey; he stays close to my ankles so he's allowed to leave the cage.

Why go through all the trouble? Because we want to get these birds on pasture as soon as possible.

Pastured eggs have • 1⁄3 less cholesterol• 1⁄4 less saturated fat• 2⁄3 more vitamin A• 2 times more omega-3 fatty acids• 3 times more vitamin E• 7 times more beta carotene You can read more here

If you're eating eggs that were produced in a factory farm, not only are you supporting tortuous conditions for the hens, but you're not providing yourself, or your family, with the wealth of nutrients nature intended.

Depending on where you live it might take a little time to research who is providing pastured eggs in your area, but it's worth it. Maybe you can care for your own hens? Let your search for good food weave its way into your life. I can't think of many things more important than being an active participant in procuring your own food.

I like the way Farm Forward puts it, "...each one of us is a farmer 'by proxy'* helping to shape the world we live in through the food choices we make." The extra time and money involved in finding foods that reduce animal suffering, decreases the negative effects of farming on the environment, and increase our personal health is actually a good barometer for how much of these animal products we should be eating. There's no doubt the amount needs to be decreased. I like to think of the fair exchange of money between myself and the farmer, or my sweat caring for the animals, as a reminder that these are precious foods. Government subsidies have warped our perception of what should be on a plate every night and what it should cost to get it there. Maybe it's going to be a little less animal product, but you're going to feel good about what's there.

So yes, at first carting juvenile birds around to graze in the sunshine may sound silly, but then you start thinking about it...

*"The idea of “farming by proxy” comes from writer and farmer Wendell Berry, who uses it throughout his writings on rural life, agriculture, and conservation".

"the fungus of charity" I finally give making kombucha a try

2011-06-09T16:24:00.008-04:00

I love these Kombucha drinks

but at around $3.50 a pop they seem too much like a luxury. When you consider the health benefits of this ancient “Immortal Health Elixir" it seems fitting that it be enjoyed on a more regular basis. One of kombucha’s health benefits is its ability to detox the body. It is rich in many of the enzymes and bacterial acids your body produces to detox. This cleansing reduces the pancreatic load and eases the burden on your liver. I also find it satisfies the appetite. I'm always looking for ways to take items that enhance healthy, happy living off the luxury list, so I've decided to make some myself...no, I wont get the pretty label, but I do get to send sparkly pro-biotic to my gut flora more often.

First I purchased a kombucha starter. You can get a whole kit, but I'm pretty sure you can scratch up what's needed around the house. If you ask around you might even find a friend who can give you a starter. I used Cultures for Health's starter. Take some time to peruse the site - they have lots of supplies for the real food enthusiast.

This is what the starter looks like

One of the good things about using the Cultures for Health starter is that it comes with very thorough instructions, trouble shooting, and suggested variations.

If you plan on giving it a try DO NOT use this outline as your only information re: making kombucha tea! These instruction will show you that it's not that difficult, or time consuming, but you should still make sure you understand the process thoroughly. I looked at a couple sources and talked to people who make their own before getting started. A plethora of beneficial bacteria makes its home inside your body and we're looking to add to their ranks. As we support the growth of beneficial bacteria we need to be careful not to introduce harmful bacteria. Anytime you use fermentation pay very close attention to cleanliness-wash your hands and sterilize everything!

Here are the basics:

To rehydrate the kombucha starter, take approximately 2.5-3 cups of water. The water should either be filtered or should already have been boiled for at least 5 minutes.

During the process do not use metal for anything.

After boiling pour in a sterile glass jar and add .25 cups of sugar and your tea, stir it until the sugar dissolves, then infuse for about 15 minutes.
After 15 minutes, strain out the loose tea (if used) or remove tea bags.

Let the brew come to room temperature - if it's too hot you could kill your new culture very quickly.

Once cool, add half a cup of vinegar.

Once at the right temperature, place the culture in the liquid. It may float or sink, it doesn't matter which.

During fermentation, cover the glass jar with a towel, or coffee filter - it should not have an air tight cover. Keep the jar in a warm spot (70-85F degrees) and out of direct sunlight for 10-28 days until a new culture forms.

As you near the end give it a taste (being careful not to contaminate) You are looking for a slightly sharp, not sweet taste. If it is not quite there yet then put the cover back on and leave it for another day before tasting again.

The length of brewing time can vary quite a bit, but it is normally between 10 days to 2 weeks. The time can be extended, especially if your room temperature is on the cool side.

You can choose to drink most of this batch or take the entire contents of this batch and the mother and baby culture to make two half gallon or gallon jars of kombucha. If you drink most of the batch remember to reserve half a cup for the next batch - you will use this starter tea instead of the vinegar that you needed the first time.

I'll follow-up with information on the baby culture and the second batch.

rooster?

2011-06-06T17:38:00.003-04:00

The first time we brought home chicks we all hoped they wouldn't turn out to be roosters. Our little urban set-up couldn't hide the inevitable crowing, so any chicks that looked like they were male had to return to the farm. One little guy remained ambiguous for a few months until one September morning when we (and our neighbors) awoke to quite a few loud cock-a-doodle-doos. I quickly brought him inside, but he would not stop. He was determined to show off his new talent and I was determined not to have a visit from animal control. He stayed in the closet until he joined a large flock later that evening.

Now we are lucky enough to have plenty of space for our barnyard explorations and think it would be rather nice to have a rooster to protect the ladies while they're foraging around the property.

We have three Ameraucana chicks that are close to being sexed. The Ameraucana roosters are beautiful, so we're hoping one of these might be a male.

picture courtesy of Hidden Falls Farm

The kids have been guessing, I have a pick, how about you? Which of these chicks will be a rooster?

Leave a comment stating which chick you think is most likely to be a rooster:

chick #1
chick #2
chick #3
none of the above

The people who pick correctly will be entered in a drawing for a Tangelo Studio, Papier-mâché Hen. The chickens have an inspection coming up, so I'll post the results on July first.

siblings

2011-06-04T11:20:00.002-04:00

This morning I watched the kids run out to the maple tree in back field - roughly the same relation in height to each other, but one year older than in the picture below.

Siblings.

Sibling system orbiting.

"Our siblings. They resemble us just enough to make all their differences confusing, and no matter what we choose to make of this, we are cast in relation to them our whole lives long."

- Susan Scarf Merrell

What to make of this little nation of three...

re-post:When I took this picture today, my children appeared to be seeds carried away by the wind, or small animals venturing away from a nest.

This, I wish for them -

May the atmosphere we breath
breath fearlessness into us:
fearlessness on earth
and fearlessness in heaven!
May fearlessness guard us
behind and before!
May fearlessness surround us
above and below!
May we be without fear
of friend and foe!
May we be without fear
by night and by day!
Let all the world be my friend!

- Atharva Veda XIX, 15

summer resolutions

2011-06-01T11:35:00.001-04:00

Some people start thinking about New Year's resolutions in November, or December; I've always noticed that summer brings change. Maybe it's a cycle that gets imprinted during our school years when we all get a break to go off and return as someone else. We've grown and made choices about the person we want to be without the constant reinforcement of who we are to other people. Maybe we've taken a trip...maybe it's just all the sunshine.

I read this the other day:

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

~ Harold Thurman Whitman

What a perfect summer resolution!

...I might add that a sketchbook/journal would make a perfect companion. Take a peek at Diana Trout's blog for some excellent ideas.

shimmy shimmy, or whatever

2011-05-17T14:19:00.002-04:00

Free thought is tied to a free body. I had a post last year about shaking off a creative block with dance. I'm not talking about being a trained dancer -I'm talking about moving your body around because you feel like you should.

I'm not talking about Yoga (at the moment)- I'm talking about reaching up and out when you wake to the day because you feel like you should.

A friend posted a video a while ago which I was immediately drawn to.

I was shown the video again a week or so later. Now there were a number of parodies as suggested viewing on you tube. I was struck by how uncomfortable people were with the movement. They didn't know how to digest what they had seen. This illustrated to me yet again how our thoughts are tied to our body. When traditional choreography is presented it offers a framework that makes it palatable, but just feeling it - man, that can knock people over. Hhhmmm. Did you know renaissance woman, Dr. Maya Angelou studied modern dance with Martha Graham? I'm not surprised.

"Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances."

-Maya Angelou

"Those who dance are considered insane by those who can’t hear the music."-George Carlin

"The one thing that can solve most of our problems is dancing"-James Brown

"I should not believe in a God who does not dance." -Friedrich Nietzsche

"Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation or abstraction from life; it is life itself." -Havelock Ellis

Well, maybe you're not one to get up and shake it, at least tap your toes and smile. The worst that can happen is getting mistaken for a rebel....and from the looks of it that's pretty good company.

food policy (that Marketplace report)

2011-05-14T21:50:00.001-04:00

I was doing dishes and listening to the public-radio show, Marketplace last week when Pedro Sanchez stated, "If you ask me point blank whether organic-based farming is better than conventional, my answer is no. There are just too many of us, we just need too many nutrients." I was bothered by the report. How can we take as gospel the finding of an individual who's job it is to defend corporate-led agriculture? Where were the questions? Are you telling me when covering a topic as important as the world's food supply it's not necessary to bring in another expert opinion?

Sanchez is trying to answer a very difficult question - will we be able to feed the world in 2050. He has worked with developing nations to solve their food shortage problems by moving them toward what could be described as an American Agribusiness model. Hybrid seeds, pesticides and fertilizers are provided instead of direct food aid, but is this the only way? Instead of spreading our factory farming mess around the world, shouldn't we be supporting the development of safer more sustainable projects? I wanted more facts, more numbers and more opinions, but I wasn't sure where to find them. Eventually I stumbled onto this article by Tom Philpott. He crafted an excellent article which compiles some very interesting information and gave a link to Tom Laskawy's piece which addressed the Marketplace report directly...enough of my ranting, just go there if you're interested in the topic.

Food supply is an incredibly important issue and how we address the problem deserves debate. The approach that Sanchez suggests comes with a cost and the complications are hard to back out of.

Giuseppe Arcimboldo: Emperor Rudolf II as the harvest god Vertumnus, 1590/91, painting

hen house visit

2011-05-10T14:36:00.000-04:00

The Ameraucana is still a favorite around here, but we've added a few new breeds that we're quickly falling in love with.

The Silver Penciled Egyptian Fayoumis

This is our adolescent, Cleo.

Here she is with her two best friends, Lily and Licorice, the Australorps. These three are inseparable; they share knowledge about food and never compete. At night they roost together.

The Black Tailed Buff Japanese Bantam

Extremely bossy for a little guy - we're still getting to know her. Notice the carriage of the tail and the wings pointed down.

The silver Polish, Matilda

She is an extremely gentle bird who loves to come up and visit while we're tending the hen house.

Peep show

Ameraucana chicks and one little Japanese bantam

Barred rock chick

The barred rock is a hardy chicken and prolific layer of brown eggs - I'm happy to add some to the flock.

All in all the new birds are getting along well and enjoying plenty of conversation around the water cooler.

the incarnations of the mother and child

2011-05-09T20:09:00.000-04:00

On Mother's Day, I took some time to re-read a section of a favorite poetry book. I found this piece by Nancy Rose Meeker:

Here am I,
myself,
but also vessel of creation.

Rhythms of the ages
stir the Womb of Woman,
my own womb -
ancient pulse in my own heartbeat,
nourishment in my own breast.
This life through me
was fathered deep
in fire-consecrated flesh,
and here, behold!
A miracle,
that what was not before
is
now!

This piece stuck out because I have friends who have welcomed new babies this month. My first child was born in the month of May as well and I was reminded of those first days - nothing brings you so fully into the present. The exhaustion, wonder, worries and love shift you into a space that allows for a concentration only a mother will know.

After focusing on the experience of birth my mind wandered to all the women who are mothers and did not birth their children. From there the definition expanded to grandmothers and sisters who have taken over the care of children and those who travel across oceans to find the one they will nurture and protect. Early in the morning I heard Sylvia Boorstein, a Jewish-Buddhist teacher, mother, and grandmother speak about loving and teaching children on Being with Krista Tippett. She said, "Parenting is a spiritual practice" Providing care makes you a care-giver; embracing the practice makes you a Mother.

All of these mothers are complicated and mysterious. I know this now because I am one and I can see there's only so much my children need me to be, or want to see - what I am beyond that doesn't need to be revealed even if it's essential to the practice. I will wait out those years of first independence when they will inevitably turn away in one way and another so that, after a time, they can look again and we might understand each other differently. They will, like I did, start to piece together a life that happened while I was right there next to them - the incarnations of the mother and child.

Uma and baby Ganesha

Dorothea Lange/Farm Security AdministrationFlorence Owens Thompson, the so-called "Migrant Mother," whose photo was used to help raise awareness of the plight of migrant pea-pickers in the Great Depression.

Achomawi mother and child

the next morning

2011-04-30T10:09:00.000-04:00

Everyone was safe this morning.

While collecting eggs we found this nest in the honeysuckle by the coop...

Life goes on - get back up on your horse.

the difficult days

2011-04-29T15:33:00.000-04:00

As I write this I hear the red hen, Penny, calling again and again to the flock that will not answer. I've been up since 3:30 this morning when I heard bird cries through the window. I grabbed a dim flashlight and ran to the hen house in boots and pajamas. I didn't want to look. I didn't want to scream if I saw it - the creature who had torn these bodies and lay them out in the pen yard. Some bodies were missing, some looked as if they were killed for sport, their beautiful feathers plucked and left in the mud.

Two birds looked dead at first, but upon further inspection I could see they were breathing. They are inside and I'm hoping for the best. Two chicks found a crack in the wall to hide in. Their bodies were so stiff with fear I thought them dead at first. I put them in my shirt while I searched for survivors. Three adults looked at me from high in their perch.

As the sun came up the morning birds threw their songs back and forth in the trees above. My path back to the hen house was paved with dandelions; some of them rose and flew away - goldfinches - I wasn't paying attention. I was thinking about telling the kids. I hurried them out the front door to the bus this morning. I wasn't ready for the tears. The birds we have had for close to three years are gone. All but two of the teenagers are gone. Belly feathers fell from the sky - sparrows were collecting them for nests. The survivors got a drink of water. I grabbed the rake and started to cleaning.

This week the southeastern storms washed away many of my seedlings setting back the garden by weeks. My hen house, inside a fence within a larger fence was ravaged. Around town I've listened to the stories of lambs being dragged off, wild dogs killing kid goats, and hen house slaughters. I wondered if I could escape the experience - it seemed everyone with livestock had their story. How can you ask to be this close to life and only accept one side of the coin? This is the baptism -this is the "jump-in".

I've posted my childhood prayer for animals before. We'll say it at their grave today:

Dear mother
hear and bless
thy beasts and singing birds
and guard with tenderness
small things that have no words.

Rest in peace,
Falcon & Friends

my candle burns at both ends

2011-04-21T12:18:00.003-04:00

I've had poems dancing around upstairs as I go about my work - ideas for post that must wait. It's a critical time for preparing the beds and getting baby animals off to a good start around here. As helpful as the kids intend to be, we are learning a lot of new things, so chore are more like lessons and as much as my blogging helps keep me on track creatively (and with the chores) it must wait at times.

To catch-up with my poetry month posts I'll enjoy some Edna St. Vincent Millay. She's a poet who lived like a rock star.
An unapologetic:
artist
bohemian
feminist
daredevil
lover...but I'm happy I didn't know any of that when I first dove into her writing. The story unfolded in the poems. I guess I could say it was like finding a vein in the collective unconscious - and that's the magic of it all, right?

The first poem is not Edna's, but it honors all the great poets who let us ride for a moment on their delivery of understanding.

Nunc Dimittis

Little time now
and so much hasn’t
been put down as I
should have done it.
But does it matter?
It’s all been written
so well by my betters,
and what they wrote
has been my joy.

- James Laughlin

And now, Edna.

Spring

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

The Plaid Dress

Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?—
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste;
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;
Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;

All through the formal, unoffending evening, under the clean
Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown. . .it is not seen,
But it is there.

Invocation to the Muses

Read by the poet at The Public Ceremonial of The Naional Institute

of Arts and Letters at Carnegie Hall, New York, January 18th, 1941.

Great Muse, that from this hall absent for long
Hast never been,
Great Muse of Song,
Colossal Muse of mighty Melody,
Vocal Calliope,
With thine august and contrapuntal brow
And thy vast throat builded for Harmony,
For the strict monumental pure design,
And the melodic line:
Be thou tonight with all beneath these rafters—be with me.
If I address thee in archaic style—
Words obsolete, words obsolescent,
It is that for a little while
The heart must, oh indeed must from this angry and out-rageous present
Itself withdraw
Into some past in which most crooked Evil,
Although quite certainly conceived and born, was not as yet the Law.

Archaic, or obsolescent at the least,
Be thy grave speaking and the careful words of thy clear song,
For the time wrongs us, and the words most common to our speech today
Salute and welcome to the feast
Conspicuous Evil— or against him all day long
Cry out, telling of ugly deeds and most uncommon wrong.

Be thou tonight with all beneath these rafters—be with me
But oh, be more with those who are not free.
Who, herded into prison camps all shame must suffer and all outrage see.
Where music is not played nor sung,
Though the great voice be there, no sound from the dry throat across the thickened tongue
Comes forth; nor has he heart for it.
Beauty in all things—no, we cannot hope for that; but some place set apart for it.
Here it may dwell;
And with your aid, Melpomene
And all thy sister-muses (for ye are, I think, daughters of Memory)
Within the tortured mind as well.

Reaped are those fields with dragon's-teeth so lately sown;
Many the heaped men dying there - so close, hip touches thigh; yet each man dies alone.
Music, what overtone
For the soft ultimate sigh or the unheeded groan
Hast thou—to make death decent, where men slip
Down blood to death, no service of grieved heart or ritual lip
Transferring what was recently a man and still is warm—
Transferring his obedient limbs into the shallow grave where not again a friend shall greet him,
Nor hatred do him harm . . .
Nor true love run to meet him?

In the last hours of him who lies untended
On a cold field at night, and sees the hard bright stars
Above his upturned face, and says aloud "How strange . . . my life is ended."—
If in the past he loved great music much, and knew it well,
Let not his lapsing mind be teased by well-beloved but ill- remembered bars —
Let the full symphony across the blood-soaked field
By him be heard, most pure in every part,
The lonely horror of whose painful death is thus repealed,
Who dies with quiet tears upon his upturned face, making to glow with softness the hard stars.

And bring to those who knew great poetry well
Page after page that they have loved but have not learned by heart!
We who in comfort to well-lighted shelves
Can turn for all the poets ever wrote,
Beseech you: Bear to those
Who love high art no less than we ourselves,
Those who lie wounded, those who in prison cast
Strive to recall, to ease them, some great ode, and every stanza save the last.

Recall—oh, in the dark, restore them
The unremembered lines; make bright the page before them!
Page after page present to these,
In prison concentrated, watched by barbs of bayonet and wire,
Give ye to them their hearts' intense desire—
The words of Shelley, Virgil, Sophocles.

And thou, O lovely and not sad,
Euterpe, be thou in this hall tonight!
Bid us remember all we ever had
Of sweet and gay delight—
We who are free,
But cannot quite be glad,
Thinking of huge, abrupt disaster brought
Upon so many of our kind
Who treasure as do we the vivid look on the unfrightened face,
The careless happy stride from place to place,
And the unbounded regions of untrammelled thought
Open as interstellar space
To the exploring and excited mind.

O Muses, O immortal Nine!—
Or do ye languish? Can ye die?
Must all go under?—
How shall we heal without your help a world
By these wild horses torn asunder?
How shall we build anew? — How start again?
How cure, how even moderate this pain
Without you, and you strong?
And if ye sleep, then waken!
And if ye sicken and do plan to die,
Do not that now!

Hear us, in what sharp need we cry!
For we have help nowhere
If not in you!
Pity can much, and so a mighty mind, but cannot all things do!—
By you forsaken,
We shall be scattered, we shall be overtaken!
Oh, come! Renew in us the ancient wonder,
The grace of life, its courage, and its joy!
Weave us those garlands nothing can destroy!
Come! with your radiant eyes! — with your throats of thunder!

.

meet Vicky & the new peeps

2011-04-12T17:01:00.000-04:00

The new chicks came in two groups. The first ones are getting their adult feathers and have just gone out to the coop; the younger ones are still in the house under the brooder light. My daughter's new speckled Sussex, Vicky came back inside last night during the storm because she is still quite downy and would enjoy being under the light on a blustery night. I was worried she might bully the little guys, but we were surprised to see maternal instincts kindled by the little peeps already. She raises her wings for the little ones to cuddle under and gently preens them. She is an excellent adoptive/teen mama and an all-around beautiful little hen.

Here are a couple of the little ones. They are both the same age; one is a standard chick and one is a bantam.

And because it's National Poetry month I'll celebrate the arrival of our new friends with a poem:

Chicks By Carl Sandburg

The chick in the egg picks at the shell, cracks open one

oval world, and enters another oval world.

“Cheep… cheep… cheep” is the salutation of
the newcomer, the emigrant, the casual at the gates
of the new world.

“Cheep… cheep” … from oval to oval, sunset
to sunset, star to star.

It is at the door of this house, this teeny weeny egg-
shell exit, it is here men say a riddle and jeer each
other: who are you ? where do you go from here?

(In the academies many books, at the circus many sacks
of peanuts, at the club rooms many cigar butts.)

“Cheep… cheep” … from oval to oval, sunset
to sunset, star to star.

Poem # 3 & 4 (National Poetry Month)

2011-04-09T22:12:00.000-04:00

I want to place these two poems next to each other. They are both favorites, and in my mind related. One leaves me shouting a satisfied - Amen! The other leaves my thoughts looping. Do they challenge each other, or are they honoring the same things?

To Be Of Use

The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.
But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

- Marge Piercy

I Stop Writing the Poem

to fold the clothes. No matter who lives
or who dies, I'm still a woman.
I'll always have plenty to do.
I bring the arms of his shirt
together. Nothing can stop
our tenderness. I'll get back
to the poem. I'll get back to being
a woman. But for now
there's a shirt, a giant shirt
in my hands, and somewhere a small girl
standing next to her mother
watching to see how it's done.

- Tess Gallagher

an antidote for disappointment

2011-04-07T20:04:00.000-04:00

Have I been reading too much news lately? Maybe. It's one of those times when politics are stirring and we're talking more about the direction our country is taking. I question and I hope, but I admit that sometimes I fear. Too much disappointment turns to apathy. If I had to diagnose an antidote for this loss of hope it would be to read Walt Whitman's Preface to Leaves of Grass. What a beautiful image of a vibrant, thriving nation forever on a path of discovery.

I'll try to keep it close for the next year or so.

Poem # 2 with visual response

2011-04-07T14:58:00.011-04:00

And now to address the other end - the breath. In the midst of daily living I'm always grateful for a reminder to enjoy stillness and to be conscious of how I'm actually breathing. Nothing more complicated than that - just to be still and feel my breath.

Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat.

My shoulder is against yours.
you will not find me in the stupas, not in Indian shrine
rooms, nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals:
not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding
around your own neck, nor in eating nothing but
vegetables.

When you really look for me, you will see me
instantly --
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.

Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.

~Kabir

Not rushing the clouds for three minutes (video)

poem # 1 with visual response

2011-04-04T19:38:00.001-04:00

The Excrement Poem

by Maxine Kumin

It is done by us all, as God disposes, from
the least cast of worm to what must have been
in the case of the brontosaur, say, spoor
of considerable heft, something awesome.

We eat, we evacuate, survivors that we are.
I think these things each morning with shovel
and rake, drawing the risen brown buns
toward me, fresh from the horse oven, as it were,

or culling the alfalfa-green ones, expelled
in a state of ooze, through the sawdust bed
to take a serviceable form, as putty does,
so as to lift out entire from the stall.

And wheeling to it, storming up the slope,
I think of the angle of repose the manure
pile assumes, how sparrows come to pick
the redelivered grain, how inky-cap

coprinus mushrooms spring up in a downpour.
I think of what drops from us and must then
be moved to make way for the next and next.
However much we stain the world, spatter

it with our leavings, make stenches, defile
the great formal oceans with what leaks down,
trundling off today's last barrowful,
I honor shit for saying: We go on.

In my adult life I have mothered three children who at one time were all under the age of five and never lived in a home without pets. It could be said (to borrow a friend's term) I am a poop engineer. Here on the farm I pick, move and pile a variety of excrement every day - I collect it in piles to turn again to rich black earth. By now I could safely identify seven species by blind smell test. Finding the beauty in it is a must.

Here's My visual response - a quick mixed media piece inspired by the delivery system.

taken with my phone because the dog ate the camera

weekends

2011-04-03T10:52:00.000-04:00

Here's what I've come to realize - I can not challenge myself to post on weekends.

Get your shoes on little ones

We're hittin' the road!

See you Monday with some Poetry.

I ♥ Frederick (National Poetry Month challenge)

2011-04-01T10:11:00.001-04:00

Today is the first day of National Poetry Month. I'm delighted. I love the way the brain works when it's reading poetry and when it's trying to write it - the same way it works when I'm painting - editing, distilling and reintroducing. I enjoy the challenge of simplicity.

Poetry. Problem solving. Words tied together sparingly - chiming against each other with a song called, true.

For the month of April I'm going to challenge myself to list a poem a day with a piece inspired by it.

I'll imagine Frederick is cheering me on...

the poet mouse who found art in everyday life. A twist on the fable of the Ant and the Grasshopper and a reminder that man does not live by bread alone.

Find a way to challenge yourself this month. Be brave. Here’s an idea.

Ralph ate the camera

2011-03-31T11:26:00.000-04:00

Time to upgrade

from a flickr photostream of found photos

My dog ate the camera. I found it wrapped up in his blanket. Thank goodness for the big brown eyes and shaggy golden beard. He needed all the help he could get.

I like to post with pictures. Either the topic sends me on a hunt, or an image sparks an idea....either way I'm missing my camera. As much as I enjoyed having my trusty little Canon in tow, it wasn't that great a camera. I've been needing to upgrade for a while (am I supposed to thank Ralph for the push?) and I ask you reader: what is the best digital SLR I can get for the money? I emphasize for the money.

It needs to:

take pictures of work for submissions and for my Etsy and website
take great family photos indoors and out
not be so precious that I'll feel uncomfortable taking it camping, or hanging out with dogs and goats.

I'm hoping some of you can point me in the right direction.

Thanks!

A pause at the end of March

2011-03-30T12:27:00.002-04:00

We didn't expect to go back to breaking ice and spits of flurry.
We were ready to let the protection fall. We were ready for sleeping with the window open.

Clouds fell in the forest today. Cold killed the smell of the earth pushed up by sprouts and
the smell the skunk left trailing through the tree line.

Stillness holds the sound to my ear.
We're closed in together - the animals are aware. I can hear the leaves roll and crunch as feet move
self consciously, purposefully.

I pause here.
Knees locked like the horse in the mud.

Breath in -
chill air behind my eyes
Breath out -
warm vapor
resting on my lip and cooling

I'm the blanket on the mountain. I'm the crow in the tree.

"Clump of Trees in Winter" by Joichi Hoshi (1913-1979)

a boy and his ducks

2011-03-29T15:58:00.001-04:00

The girls have been busy working on handling their hens for poultry showmanship competition. The boy must set himself apart...

I'm happy to say he has fallen in love with his waddling troupe and we're all learning about waterfowl as we go along.

One of my first posts (many months ago) was about children's connections with animals and the importance my early years on the farm played in my development. I am thankful that we now find ourselves in a place where my children can experience these gifts.

Our task must be to free ourselves... by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.

Albert Einstein

The First Greens of Spring (chores, studio & poetry passing)

2011-03-22T09:19:00.001-04:00

Full on spring fever has swept the house and I've found it hard to stay indoors. I'm going to sit here with my coffee for a minute before I clean out the second chicken coop and hang a hay rack - after that it's studio time. I have a portrait in progress and a series of small landscapes. I'm working on four 6 inch square canvases; the goal is to have them going at the same time and finish in three days. I've always resisted working on more than one or two paintings at a time. I'm trying to shake-off that tunnel vision a little, so I'm attempting this exercise before I move on to some of the larger pieces I have planned.

I'm looking forward to kale and poached eggs for lunch. I know, not that exciting, but I'm craving greens like I don't know what. Our chard, arugula, and kale are started - can't wait for the first harvest!

Big A brought home a book of poetry as a gift with this piece by David Budbill:

The First Green of Spring

Our walking in the swamp picking cowslip, marsh marigold,
this sweet first green of spring. Now sautéed in a pan melting
to a deeper green than ever they were alive, this green, this life,

harbinger of things to come. Now we sit at the table munching
on this message from the dawn which says we and the world
are alive again today, and this is the world's birthday. And

even though we know we are growing old, we are dying, we
will never be young again, we also know we're still right here
now, today, and, my oh my! don't these greens taste good.

a walk in the rain

2011-03-10T12:39:00.000-05:00

It's not that cold; just a low grey sky and steady rain. Eighteen hours of swinging between a chilly misting and window slapping sprays. If I can keep my head dry, I'm out the door.

snowdrops in the pine needles

raindrops on the maple

holes the dog dug

green hellebore being beautiful

tea for cold fingers and cold nose

making goat cheese

2011-03-05T16:34:00.001-05:00

We are now officially cheese makers, albeit very inexperienced ones. The results were delicious and I encourage you to give it a try.

Curious about making some of your own? Want some advice for getting started? Check out my guest post at Grown in the City.

slumming with the billboards

2011-03-05T10:23:00.002-05:00

Alkonost, the Bird of Paradise, late 18th century

Like birds calling in the canopy, filtered by leaves and fractured sunlight, words bounce around click, tap, tap - release. Interesting. Some are let go like blood at slaughter, others sent out thundering like the hooves of the pony express, and then there are those that seem so precious - too precious to be slumming up against the billboards, but there they are and it's best to know the rules are different and be thankful they called back.

I know a few people who release the words - they're ornithologists creating aviaries, discovering new species, educating...releasing into the cacophony of the canopy.

Here's a catch and release:

The world is a wonderfully weird place, consensual reality is significantly flawed, no institution can be trusted, certainty is a mirage, security a delusion, and the tyranny of the dull mind forever threatens -- but our lives are not as limited as we think they are, all things are possible, laughter is holier than piety, freedom is sweeter than fame, and in the end it's love and love alone that really matters.

~ Tom Robbins, May 25, 2007

So, thank you to those who ensure our time online offers plenty of word watching.

this beautiful evidence

2011-03-02T09:25:00.001-05:00

As I pull information together for the next Meet the Farmers post I'm finding some very interesting people and some amazing stories. Their tales unravel like fables and now the posts, although hopefully helpful and informative, feel like they are just scratching the surface of a bigger story. When I started the blog I was acknowledging something that I would never be able to turn my back on. The title, Mistaken for a Rebel, came from my belief that there are many definitions of success and that we need to venture out to find our own. Our choices might appear to be rebellious, but to us it will be the most natural thing in the world. We will be home.

I had a "Whoa, I had no idea!" moment today. My sudden realization made me think of string theory - isn't it fascinating? The imagination can just run away with the idea that there are other dimensions to the universe that we can't see. Maybe we can get a taste of what that would be like by dipping into the realities within reach that we ignore. It's sometimes only a tweak of perspective that shines light on a place, a story, or a teacher.

Every person I've contacted to talk to me about their goats has been willing to give me all the time I need. They want to talk about the complexities of their milk, the land that their herds graze on, and the water they drink. Sometimes just a simple question will lead to an open invitation being extended to our family. We now have invitations in three states. You know what all of these people exuded? Passion and purpose. As imperfect as we all are, there's nothing like being in the company of someone who has found their way home.

season of the mud ( & guest blogging!)

2011-02-25T16:13:00.003-05:00

The Meet the Farmers series has been invited to growninthecity.com I will be traveling to local farms and exploring their relationship with the city. Visit #1 is the first farm in Virginia to be certified both Organic and Humane and is also the first farm in the nation to raise Certified Humane veal calves. If you've been following the blog you've probably picked up on some of my leanings concerning diet, but I believe it's in everyone's best interest to educate ourselves about the process of meat production and support people who are changing the way animals are raised and slaughtered.

Next week I'll travel to a small goat farm and share my first attempts at making cheese. I've ordered my vegetable rennet, fresh culture, and butter muslin - fingers are crossed!

Here, on Mistaken For a Rebel, the family and I will be welcoming new chicks, the girls start their 4-H projects, and I'll don boots and head out in the mud to work on the new landscape series.

sunshine and easter eggs

2011-02-18T19:50:00.005-05:00

Today the weather was in the high 60's again - what a treat for February! I did my best to split my studio time with farm work, but it was so hard to stay indoors and too windy to move the supplies outside. The sunny afternoon gave me the perfect opportunity to get around to a few chores that have been waiting, like hauling chicken poop to compost. While I was in the hen house I was surprised with the first Ameraucana egg. The Ameraucana chickens have to be one of my favorites; they have feather ear tufts and lay light blue eggs. The breed is grouped together with what are called "Easter Eggers". They have a bird of prey look to them and I can imagine them strutting around in the wild unlike some of the other hens who's softer domesticated brand of beauty has them looking at home in their nesting box.

image courtesy of eFowl.com

The longer days have a few of the girls laying regularly already.

We have quite a variety of eggs and they're piling up. Today I had kale and a poached egg for lunch. This weekend I'll try some more egg recipes from a book I checked out at the library called, The Good Egg - the Poached Eggs on Creamy Curried Lentils are calling to me.

contentment and responsibility (sunbathing with a chicken)

2011-02-15T10:51:00.001-05:00

I saw the hens laying on their sides this morning soaking up some rare February sunbeams - it reminded me of this post from from last June. Wouldn't that feel great right now?

Oh, the honest pleasure of soaking in the sun's rays close to someone you trust.

It's moments like this that evoke a feeling of pity for the human animal. Here we are with this miracle mind - one that harnesses wonders and dazzles with its explorations, yet can't make out a path to peace and abundance. It's the stories about the oil in the water, the poison on our plate, and the unending rotation of battle that make it apparent we forgot that balancing at such great heights requires responsibility.

When holding an animal that's content you realize that you pretty much require the same things to get there - a lack of hunger, companionship, and trust. I know, those things go by a lot of other names....if only being seduced by complications didn't cause so much harm.

a new series on the blog - meet the farmers

2011-02-15T09:49:00.000-05:00

I will be posting a new series covering farms that supply food to DC restaurants and farmers markets. It's going to be a who's who of the country side and a look at their relationship with the city.

Stay tuned!

Valentine's Day - candy, goat hide, love and marriage

2011-02-14T14:17:00.002-05:00

I've always found a tie between the institution of marriage and this "Hallmark holiday" because both are what you want them to be. With marriage we let the ugly bits of history lose themselves as we entwine personal relationships and a relationship with society. How many of us find institutionalizing access to women and division of property romantic? That's what I thought, but watch a bridezilla and you'd think our ancient ancestors had intended to elevate every woman to the role of princess if she could just get a perfect proposal. In reality the experience of marriage and life partnerships ranges from culturally imposed duty, to reflection of the divine, and everything in between....sometimes on the same day.

With marriage you can't separate the legal from the intimate, or the religious from the personal that easily. I have friends who have married their partners, and friends who haven't. They have a collection of stories and a myriad of reasons. Humans are growing and loving and the old rules and customs are having a hard time keeping up. Then there's Valentine's day. What other day do we celebrate our partnerships without the rules. The origins may be sketchy, and some early celebrations included being smacked with goat hide, but what's wrong with a day when we are given a little nudge to celebrate our intimate companions. Sure it's commercialized, but try to tell me marriage isn't.

As my relationship with my partner evolved we made commitments that would have been there had we married, or not. I debated how I felt about marriage for some time while being fully committed to our partnership. It turns out we did get married and we chose this day to do it because our life together will be what we make it - it will include the lightheartedness of candy hearts and the weight of the many hopeful declarations before us.

Happy Valentine's day!

studio audience

2011-02-03T14:48:00.002-05:00

My little studio looks out toward the back yard - I always have an audience.

Their level of interest can range from endearing to spooky.

acknowledging success

2011-01-30T12:07:00.001-05:00

It seems that along with the benefits of challenging myself to grow and explore, I sometimes suffer the undesired result of missing out on my own success. I'm re-posting a piece from last year just to remind myself what has been accomplished. I'm taking a moment to breathe it in and give thanks. I hope you'll take stock and enjoy a little reveling in the bantam victories today.

"O Pioneers" (after the Walt Whitman poem) was written last year while we were living in our much loved, micro-farm, row-house in the city. I was exploring my relationship with my surroundings, my connection with farming, animals and my desire to experience a hands on connection with our food and wild spaces. I realized the experiences I treasured from my childhood couldn't be recreated at nature camps or parks. If I wanted that for our family I had to honor my own values; I had to stick with it even if it seemed far-fetched... or nearly impossible.

Well, here we are on a farmette at the foot hills of the mountains. There are challenges every day and monetary quick fixes are not in the cards, but instead of making a list of all the things I want and need I'm here to shove them to the side and say, "I did it!" Time is tricky - it can twist our perception and impatience drains our gratitude, but I was there and now I'm here and thankful's what I am.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

When I was little I loved wandering away from the house and making a little home in the woods out of branches, blankets, and whatever I could haul along in a backpack or pillow case - these are some of my favorite memories. I learned a little about the trees and plants from my parents and would gather anything I knew I could eat - bunches of dandelion, sassafras, and mulberries. I loved the feeling of having my life in my own hands - it was a thrill to imagine I had to survive on the meager offerings of the forest.

Watching my daughter make a fort with her friend the other day, I started to think about how so many of the things that bring me happiness now are not that different. I want freedom like I felt when I wandered until I found a spot that was just right and made the most of what I could find. I welcome the challenge of figuring out how much nutrition I can get from the little plot behind my house, I like the the challenge of making a small home special and brilliant and I can actually say I enjoyed all the moves to new cities, standing in an empty flat and figuring out how it could feel like home in less than eight hours. I know this connection with freedom, survival, and challenge has sculpted my life. I've given up things others have told me were important to hold on to it, and as I understand more fully what's needed from all of us, I doubt myself less everyday.

I remember reading an article with Joel Salatin of Polyface Farm He was talking about the challenges of changing farming in America and how he often hears people bragging about their son or daughter who's a lawyer, or investment banker, but has never heard someone say with pride, "My son is a farmer!"

There are people who enjoy a different path to success and what this different perspective brings, we need. Hold onto that desire to be independent you felt a child, just know that real freedom might end up looking different than they told you it would.

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

a snow day scrap craft

2011-01-28T16:50:00.002-05:00

Look who sneaked away from being the Snow Day Hostess. While the kids enjoy some bagel pizzas and hot chocolate I'll share the craft we'll be doing later. This is another craft that makes use of fabric scraps and beads. It's not complicated and gives you a chance to play around with color and texture. Sometimes an activity like this will spark ideas for color relationships I may want to explore further in the studio.

To start you need a pin back. You can find these at the craft store by the bag full. I happened to pick-up some self adhesive ones on sale; you don't need them to be, but it is helpful for little hands to wrap the fabric when there's some cushion and stick.

Take strips of scrap fabric or ribbon and start wrapping the pin.

After wrapping the fabric, attach the wire to one end (right above the clasp) and finish with a simple loop so that you don't leave a scratchy end.

Now, wrap once, add one bead - repeat. When you get to the end attach the wire by wrapping it tightly above the clasp, clip off extra wire and end with another simple loop.

It ends up looking something like this.

There are many ways to fool around with the basic idea...call it a snow day Medal of Bravery.

no fear - tea with Kālī

2011-01-24T15:45:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the month I posted about an idea for the new paper-mâché series. I finished the first one today...

"Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction."

Quote by Pablo Picasso

The Choir of the Forest - a poem passing day

2011-01-23T16:56:00.000-05:00

The Choir of the Forest

Long before Christ,
there was Krishna
& His cowgirls.

Whose time
are we in?
What’s the problem?

The solitary leaves
have their own
language

blinded by
the Soul’s
Beauty

the Earth
in love
with Itself

the Peace
underground
meditating…

-Vincent Ferrini

path to the creek - early spring

acrylic and oil on canvas

48x36

- Rosemary Markowski

this salad has no side effects

2011-01-15T21:36:00.000-05:00

“Let food be your medicine and medicine be your food”. Greek physician Hippocrates (460-377 BC)

This salad was my medicine today.

I don't think I can get enough raw spinach and red onions. My body has had it with roasted root vegetables, lentils and stews...they were so comforting as the days grew shorter, but the seasons can't keep up with my desire for greens from the garden three times a day. The first crop of arugula isn't that far off is it?

I'm planning meals as I read the seed catalogs.

retro plants

2011-01-12T11:07:00.000-05:00

I love house plants. There's a special kind of comfort I get from house plant heavy 60's and 70's interiors with begonias, bromeliads, spider plants and arrow heads...

photo of the Eames House from 1949, with a large Monstera delciosa in the foreground

From an old macrame book, “Macrame Accessories: Patterns and Ideas for Knotting” by Dona Z. Meilach (1972)

And things like this ^ hanging around. My parents didn't even decorate like this, so I'm not sure where this nostalgia is coming from, but I went through a phase where my bedroom looked like a kitchen from 1973.

About a year ago Big A brought home a little plant in a tiny terracotta plant, about as big as a thumb, that he bought from a street vendor. We don't know what it is, but it's beautiful and today I spotted the beginnings of a little bloom. Can anyone help me identify this plant?

a new relationship with destruction and high tea

2011-01-09T14:26:00.000-05:00

The paper people population continues to grow, but there's a new series that's been knocking at the door. It took some time to find a way for for them to integrate - it ended up being as easy as sharing a cup of tea.

My greatest satisfaction comes from taking complicated and rambling ideas chewing them up and spitting them out. It's why I love poetry, fairy tales and jelly bellies. I also love symphonies, reading the encyclopedia and Blinis Demidof a l'Oobleck, but that's not what I want to create. I delight in making a little paper and wheat person who tells you a secret to rival Lady Chatterley's without a word. Here's what I've been chewing on:

Stories that remind us everything we need to know we already know, we're just remembering...

"Many hundreds of years before those great European pioneers, Galileo and Copernicus, had to pay heavy prices in ridicule and excommunication for their daring theories, a section of the Vedas known as the Brahmanas contained this astounding statement:

“The sun never sets or rises. When people think the sun is setting, he only changes about after reaching the end of the day and makes night below and day to what is on the other side. Then, when people think he rises in the morning, he only shifts himself about after reaching the end of the day night, and makes day below and night to what is on the other side. In truth, he does not see at all.”

- Nancy Wilson Ross (1901 -1986)

Unexpected heroes.

nice picture of high tea from here.

High tea...because ceremony and manners can be the glue to hold us together while the big issues are under construction.

and a new relationship with destruction.

New work next week....

the angels by proxy

2011-01-05T19:03:00.000-05:00

Today I read that time was slipping

and spent not a blink surprised.

The bouncing, slack and wrapping ribbon pulls a story

from there to here.

It's written by the hands of the angels by proxy

sent from ahead and behind.

Trapped behind glass -

writing secret codes -

tirelessly leading us home.

new year's day

2011-01-01T11:12:00.000-05:00

As the new year approached I continued to untangle the tendrils of distraction and complication. Some I set gently aside and some I whacked through with a machete. At the same time I sheltered the new growth and marveled at its invisible compass - its unwavering tie to the light.

So here it is - new year's day. I'm just wandering around taking stock of things. No time for the studio yet (I'm getting antsy) just cleaning and winding down from the visits and the cooking and the play dates. I'm trying to find things I like about January. The grey stripes of grape vines across the hills looks kind of pretty this time of year...I guess. I like that the ground thawed a little over the past couple days; now I can smell the earth a little. I like losing my hands in the pony's winter coat and eating pop corn and cocoa with the littles.

Around here today:

A scent geranium is blooming in the kitchen

A tree is waiting to be undressed

Dogs are muddy

cat is content

The hens are keeping warm

The studio is still there

simpler living (my rasp and nippers)

2010-12-09T11:24:00.000-05:00

The last couple weeks we've been having trouble with the Internet connection and I've been kept away from the blog. We have limited options for connection here and our first choice ended up being painfully slow....amazing being an hour from a major city! Thankfully our second choice seems to be up to snuff and I'll be able to manage the new Etsy store check in here with more ease.

Around the homestead we've prepared another garden bed employing the Lasagna method. With this method you don't have to work the soil at all, or remove existing grass. It's our first time doing it this way and if nothing else it was a fun way for the kids to help out. There's been plenty of winterizing and carrying water to frozen troughs. Luckily this grey settling in for winter was punctuated by a night of partying with old friends till the wee hours...we need some of that every now and then! Filled with cheer we're ready to continue through the winter months ahead.

Another focus around here has been learning new skills. We enjoy this effort to live closer to our food and to connect as a family through our connection to the land. I hope this choice is open to anyone who wants to explore it no matter what their financial situation - that it's not just seen as a luxury. I think there's a stirring in many of us that feels uneasy about letting the years pass saying,"I'll eventually have the time." If you're honest with yourself and keep simplicity the goal you have a good chance at making a new way now. I'm stumbling and strengthening as we take small steps to escape the work-spend-consume treadmill, it's a hard thing to unravel, but we're already enjoying time together as a family that we've never known.

There are many things we've had to address, but one thing that makes an immediate impact is cutting out paying for services whenever possible. This means mastering a few new skills. My skill for the month - learning to trim hooves. I thought I would always employ the services of a farrier, but I started to wonder if I could do it myself.

I've watched farriers at work since the age of five and I spent years reading through my Official Manual of the British Horse Society. With some more training I felt confident I could cut this bill out of our budget. Big A brought home the rasp and nippers I'd been eyeing at the Tractor Supply Co. and I'm now doing successful pony trims. Anything more complicated like shoeing or corrective work I would need help with, but for now we're set.

What new skill have you learned that has helped the family budget?

a visit to the rising (collecting water at the "holy well")

2010-11-19T10:04:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we took a drive across the crest of the mountain and into the hollow along a vertical outcropping of Oriskany sandstone, unloaded our bottles and filled them at the spring house.

We live equal distance to two springs where we go to collect water. It's a bit of a drive, but worth it. Both springs have bath houses and modest resorts attached to them, Berkeley Springs rests in a small town with local artist studios and restaurants; people visit for hot baths year round. We usually go here in the summer because the kids love the outdoor swimming. Capon Spring has an enormous old hotel and spa built in 1850, but is usually more of a ghost town this time of year - this is where we went yesterday.

A "holy well" can be any spring that holds significance in the folklore of the area. Both of these springs are believed to have healing properties and were sacred places to the native Americans tribes that resided there. For me the collection of the water at its source is holy enough. After walking down the aisles of the grocery store lined with bottles that ensure my safety it feels magical to have water rise up from the ground ready for consumption.

Put visiting a spring on your summer to do list, it offers perspective and the road trip almost always takes you somewhere you wouldn't have discovered otherwise.

View from inside a steaming private bath at Berkeley Springs.

white bean and kale empanadas

2010-11-17T14:01:00.000-05:00

Every culture has its favorite stuffed dough; empanadas are a Spanish and Portuguese stuffed bread or pastry. The name comes from the verb empanar, meaning to wrap or coat in bread. El Salvador, Nicaragua, Ecuador, Haiti, Indonesia...each area has its regional twists on the filling. I enjoy coming up with new vegetarian fillings for these little pockets. Last night I experimented with white bean and kale. This is a delicious hearty filling that creates a whole meal in a pocket. These flavors work well this time of year...not to mention, a warm empanada in your hands is the ultimate comfort food.

Soaking beans and mixing your own dough is always an option, but I'm going to share the last minute version. This method makes use of canned beans and store bought pastry disks. You can find the disks in the frozen foods section of most specialty stores, or super markets with a well stocked international aisle. If you'd like to get comfortable making the dough now, here are a couple recipes:

Red Yucca Empanada Dough

Martha's Empanada Dough

To make the filling sauté half a cup of red onions in olive oil until they just start to get soft. Sprinkle a little cumin over the hot onions and oil. I love the flavor of cumin, but you might want to start with a pinch, taste and adjust to your taste. Next add two cans of cannellini beans (I had some left over red beans that I mixed in for this pot) gently stir until cooked through, add salt and pepper to taste, then add chopped kale and some mozzarella cheese. Mix gently and remove from heat.

Place your discs on the work surface and add a table spoon of filling just left of center; fold the disk over and press with a fork to seal the edges.

Now that the empanadas are filled you can bake in a hot oven for 20 min. at 400 or 450. Before placing in oven, brush with milk. To fry, heat oil in a deep-fryer to 365 degrees F. Place one or two pies into the fryer at a time. Cook for about 5 minutes, turning once to brown on both sides. Drain on paper towels, and serve hot. You're not going to eat empanadas every night so go ahead and fry them - the delicious bubbly crust can't be beat!

holiday gift giving - picture books & bookplates

2010-11-14T20:10:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to think about holiday gifts and one of my favorite gifts to give, or get, is a picture book. My list of favorites is long, but here are a few I've purchased already:

Little Beauty
by Anthony Browne
A love story...and because any Anthony Browne is a beautiful, mysterious adventure.

Chrysanthemum
by Kevin Henkes
Because I once wished my name was Jane and every child has a moment when they want to wish away some fabulously embarrassing thing that they'll be thankful for later.

Higglety Pigglety Pop! Or, There Must Be More to Life
by Maurice Sendak
A lesser known Sendaak book - A terrier living the dream takes off in search of what's missing.

A book is a wonderful gift alone, but to add that special something consider adding a book plate, or a handmade bookmark. I love book plates; you can add the recipient's name and place one at the front of the book, or give custom book plates for their library. I'm happy to say they seem to be making a comeback and you can find a large selection on line.

Here are a couple of my favorites:

Personalized Vintage Blue Bird Bookplates

Bookplate (floral) - pack of 9 by Milkshake crafts

Do you have any favorites you'd like to add? Place them in the comments below!

new forestscapes

2010-11-10T09:34:00.000-05:00

Here are a couple of the new landscapes. I'm enjoying the search for fall color that avoids some of the over used "autumn pallets" that end up looking like the artificial foliage aisle at the craft store.

I enjoy the horizontal lines that fir and pine trees add. This interplay of lines has been keeping my landscapes in the woods lately. When you're still in the woods, you become aware of the mesh around you - the property of self similarity bringing together the elements of the forest. I enjoy seeing this in the work without loosing the immediacy of a painterly approach.

I will be transitioning into some larger pieces next.

Older work from the same series:

view more work at rosemarymarkowski.com

accepting holiday commissions

2010-11-06T11:48:00.000-04:00

I'm enjoying the new work space and will be able to share some of the new series (in both paper mâché and paint) next week. I've recently moved and won't be attending some of my favorite holiday art shows. I'll use the blog to list my work available for sale this season. More work can be viewed at -http://www.rosemarymarkowski.com/

The deadline for holiday portrait commissions is November 13th. Prices start at $375 for a 12x12 oil on panel with a deposit of $100.

The Paper People listed below are available for sale:

Mother and Child with Halo

Couple Standing

One Morning on the Bed

Contact me with any questions.

the renegade pony and the little prince

2010-11-04T21:16:00.000-04:00

I woke to a cold, grey morning - chewed granola and watched clouds roll themselves over the mountain and linger, dropping a steady rain over the forest and fields. As I settled into some work, I received a call, our little pony, who is staying at farm over the mountain while we prepare the barn for her, had escaped and was running around evading all efforts to capture her. She refused apples and sugar. She disappeared into the woods and returned, defiantly tossing her head and kicking up her heals.

I left my work on the table, dragged my son (home from school with a stomach bug) into the car and took off to capture our renegade mare.

When I pulled up I saw her across the field. I was prepared to chase her around in the rain cursing, but she waited as I walked across the field and took hold of her halter. She licked the palm of my outstretched hand, steamy breath lingering above the tall grass.

"You had me drive over here with my sick child in the rain you absolutely naughty little brat!" She just looked at me and her eyes reminded me of a story:

"Good morning," said the fox.

"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.

"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."

"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."

"I am a fox," said the fox.

"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."

"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."

"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.

But, after some thought, he added:

"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"

"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"

"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."

"'To establish ties'?"

"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."

"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."

"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."

"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.

The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.

"On another planet?"

"Yes."

"Are there hunters on this planet?"

"No."

"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"

"No."

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.

But he came back to his idea.

"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.

"Please-- tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."

"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.

"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."

~ Antoine de Saint Exupéry

And so, on this cold, rainy day I realize that my cycle of water carrying,feeding and brushing has tamed this little horse. She had been left alone for so long before we bought her and I wondered if she would respond, whether she felt a need for connection, but now I understand - she was just following taming protocol.

La Liberté éclairant le monde

2010-11-02T21:39:00.000-04:00

I'm taking a break from late night studio time. Primer is drying and I guess it's inevitable that after being bombarded with politics all day my post won't escape the topic.

I've been writing about freedom a lot this past year - defining it for myself so that I could move toward it with purpose. It became evident that it was far too easy to become entangled in a mess that amounted to nothing more than keeping our heads above water. I had to consider my choices carefully and ask some hard questions.

Interestingly enough, at the same time that the word was echoing in my head, it was also being echoed by the growing, Tea Party movement. They were gaining strength by touting a message of freedom, liberty and choice with a formula the Republican party has mastered - vagueness. Listen to three people who identify with the group and you'll get three different answers as to what it means to them - brilliant! The Tea Party has mixed up an apparently intoxicating cocktail of outrage, rebellion and patriotism shaken frequently with delightful snarking and silly sign making. All this shaking keeps you from examining what life might be like if the aspects of the Tea Party that are actually backed with some $power$ were to come to fruition.

Who wants to be tread on? Not me. Who wants to be free? We all do. How do they not see that they're serving up such tragic irony? The list of how their collective vote undermines their shaky platform is ridiculously long. Is this the movement for people who have been against movements? Are they intoxicated by the new experience? Or, have some people found ways to veil some ugly beliefs and in exchange for support of their prejudice they'll facilitate a halt on progress.

So here it is, the moment in the abusive relationship where they start to believe it will be different this time. I guess we didn't hit rock bottom. Nationalism and scapegoating weren't set aside so that the hard questions could be asked - What is liberty? I've tried to look at from different angles, but no matter how I slant it, I don't believe you'll get there without freedom from fear, health, education and the dignity of a living wage.

I hope that before this wave carries in its next ship of fools, we take the time to really ask what we want from life.

art trading cards

2010-10-29T14:51:00.000-04:00

Art trading cards - fun!

I was recently invited to trade cards with a group of other artist. We all made 2.5 x 3.5 inch pieces (no specific theme or medium for this round) and then we would send them out to each participant - receiving a small collection through the mail in return.

I wasn't sure what type of series I wanted to do -- maybe miniature landscapes? maybe portraits of the paper people?? Trading cards made me think of teams, so I settled on "Team Menagerie" the family animals drawn in copy pencil and white paint.

Want to swap? Contact me.

To see other work look here.

for the wild things

2010-10-29T10:44:00.000-04:00

As I work on preparing the outbuildings for winter, the kids have taken on a project of their own. They will be in charge of turning the upstairs of a small carriage house behind the house into a club house. They've filled a note book with plans and yesterday we started the patching and painting.

This will be a place for the children to exercise freedom and responsibility...a place the kids will rule. The only requirement is that they (and their club members) discuss and come to an agreement about the rules they will live by. I've already heard some spirited round table discussions over chocolate chip cookies.

Although my kids played in the ally and small garden behind our row house in the city before we made our move, I really had to overcome my concerns to give them the space they needed (and I admit I was peeking out the kitchen window the whole time) I think any mother could imagine what my concerns might be. In contrast, I remember being told as a child to go play outside - I'd run around exploring the barns, fields and streams, with or without a neighborhood kid, until I was called for dinner. I know that time was important and I've tried to find a balance between caution and "executive function" no matter where we find ourselves.

It's interesting to watch the diplomatic skill and work ethic that emerges when they really believe they've been left to their own devises.