When a whim turns into tradition

If you've been following this page for any length of time, 

you're probably aware that every Lenten season,

just as winter seems to drag on and on,

one of the harbingers of spring for my family

was the arrival in the stores of bright yellow:

favorite flowers (daffodils)

AND bright yellow candy 

known as PEEPS. 

 

Bright yellow in the midst of midwinter dreary gray

always bring me joy.

 

I'm not even sure what the appeal was about the Peeps;

it's actually just a bedazzled marshmallow;

but I'm here to tell you that 8 years ago,

when I was getting more serious about photography -

and actually caring about focus, depth and light readings,

Peeps were the perfect 'models'.

 

They rarely moved, 

you could put them in all sorts of situations and not hear any complaints

and they could be frozen, taken out and re-used 

so they were available whenever inspiration struck.

I photographed PEEPS in various situations 

in ways that generally have revealed 

my bizarre sense of humor.

Oddly enough, when I posted them on Facebook,

they were enjoyed by friends who share the same humor -

born from working on the front lines of child abuse.

 

It was a wonderful after work outlet 

and I looked forward to it every year.

(here and here and here)

One year, I even branched out and did 'Lenten' peeps 

at Christmas time -

(here)

but, for some friends that was a bridge too far,

so I re-committed to Lent -

40 days of concentrated sugar madness.

However, with all the changes in the world this past year,

and in my life in particular,

I hadn't even thought of doing Lenten Peeps 

until Lent was upon us -

and I received an inquiry from a friend on Facebook 

asking me where they were.

Essentially saying I wasn't up for it was not well received.

 

My people pleasing side kicked into gear,

the ideas started coming

and when I went to Dollar Tree for solar light sticks,

there were Peeps, right at the checkout!

SO, without further ado, here are some Pandemic Peeps.

Hope you're enjoying the coming of spring as much as I am.

Happy Lent!

Odd place

 It's an odd place to be - getting to the other side of COVID.

1 year ago, when I chose to retire 

rather than work every day in a tertiary level Trauma Center,

it felt right and prudent to hunker down;

forays into the outside world were, for the most part,

highly debated and generally curtailed.

I had to go out for groceries and sometimes doctors appointments,

but even the majority of those were virtual visits -

although don't get me started on the absurdity of a Rheumatologist 

trying to decipher the level of RA swelling 

by looking at hands held up to a computer camera!

Zoom meetings with my movie group,

Zoom church 

and more Zoom meetings to deal with ongoing church business

consumed more time and energy than I knew I had to give

but at least it broke some of the isolation.

Puttering in the garden,

reading,

crafting,

watching TV,

playing with my camera,

sitting outside on the deck

and driving around 

looking at urban art

are the activities that have sustained me.

 

What I thought of before as a small life became even smaller.

Obviously my income took a BIG hit,

leaving a full time job

to live on Social Security and retirement income,

so I was glad to have a reason NOT to travel

since I couldn't afford it now anyway.

And a year passed;

more or less comfortably;

with the bemoaned 'new normal' becoming more routine every day.

And, now, "opening up" is on the horizon.

Yes, there are virus variants;

Yes, there is still the need for social distancing and masks

and yes, I will still be taking all those precautions

that have become second nature,

but the possibility exists for a broader level of activity

and now I'm left to ponder -

Now what?

What, if anything, will I do differently?

There's a Memorial service in Chicago for a nephew who tragically died

and I'm grateful we'll be able to gather together

and remember better days with David.

I'm also planning a trip this summer to see my oldest, living in Taos

assuming the state (NM) opens back up and lets people in.

Other than that, I'll probably be doing exactly the same things

that I've been doing for the past year. 

Funny to think my 'retired life' is the very definition of 'quarantine';

like I said, its an odd place to be.

As so it goes ...

 Can't believe its been nearly a month since I've had time to hop on.

Amazing how quickly the time fills up and days fly by 

even in the midst of the pandemic.

Second immunization is in the books 

and despite chills and increased tiredness,

I have never been so grateful to feel so bad

in my life.

It beats having COVID, that's for sure.

There's a distinct feel of spring in the air

and it's made me think gardening and decorative embellishments

for the outside of the house.

Toward that end, 

I have been frequenting my local thrift stores

and was rewarded with cheap stuff to make 'solar mushrooms' -

which my grandson calls 'magic mushrooms.'

Try explaining THAT

to your daughter in-law when her son tells her

Nanny was making magic mushrooms -

and she knows Nanny was a child of the 60's!

 

It's all very innocent.

Take an old vase, a cheap 'bowl' from the Dollar store

and flip it over a solar light stick (also from the Dollar store) -

and voila -

you have garden decor that works for daytime and night time enjoyment.

I'm not gonna lie;

I've fallen in love with the Dollar Store solar sticks - 

and have begun using them as outdoor candles.

 

I've got a small enamel deck table and a thrifted candlestick, 

another plastic bowl from the dollar store 

and a solar stick

are all it needs for a great night time effect.

The fact that it costs less than $5.00

makes it a win/win in my book.

   

 Solar sticks have also added a fun dimension to my side of my neighbors privacy fence,

without the expense of wiring, an electrician or elaborate underground cables.

I got different wall sconces on Facebook Market place

(for under $10.00),

added solar light sticks

and am LOVING the touch of whimsy it will add among

the morning glories, hyacinth runner beans and moon flowers

this summer.

Sometimes you just need a different way of looking at things -

and don't be afraid to keep being YOU.

YOUR yard, or deck or patio doesn't have to look like everyone else's.
 

 

My smallest daffodils (Tete a tete) popped open yesterday

 and everything in the yard beckons me outside to watch it unfold.

 

I've got to get out while the weather is still cooperating.

Rain with cooler temperatures is predicted for the rest of the week, 

so I'll try to write more when I'm forced to be inside.

 

For now, I'm headed out.

Covid shots and baby steps to increased freedom

 I almost hesitate to write that I've gotten my first Covid immunization - 

and by the end of the month, I will have my second one.

I'm hesitant because I know the inequity involved;

am aware of how many others, in my state and beyond,

are still waiting to hear about available clinics and resources for them

and their health.

Our state is 50 out of 50 in getting the population immunized.

Thanks to a Governor who is a good ol boy 

who doesn't think Covid is any worse than the flu,

has never issued a mask mandate

and refuses to make the health of people in urban areas a priority,

the roll out in MO has been a complete disgrace.

Immunizations, when available, are being prioritized by

age, health conditions and high risk zip codes -

and I don't have a problem with any of that.

I meet 2 out of the 3 criteria - 

age and health risks.

My zip code is NOT generally high risk,

so I was surprised although pleased when my oncologist arranged for me

to get a shot sooner rather than later.

 

SO pleased that, to celebrate,

I drove around town,

by myself and masked -

with a renewed sense of freedom

and cautious optimism.

And I found a house I LOVE.

Seriously, can we talk about the square tree?

Can't wait to see it filled out this spring!

I love the architecture of St Louis -

in all its variety.

I've decided to explore neighborhoods more frequently.

 

Since international travel is off limits, for now, 

I might as well treat my own city as an unexplored treasure. 

Baby steps - and one street at a time.

Mardi Gras Fleur de lis -

doesn't get much more St Louis than that!

Look at the different colored 'snake' lines separating out the floors of this town home 

in Benton Park?

Bloom where you're planted - 

and explore what you think you know.

 

No passport needed.

Valentines Day

 Now that my grandson is 4, 

I doubt there will be many more months of him admitting to having a 'lovey',

his beloved Mr Monkey.

So when he asked if he could bring him to his Valentines mini photo session

last week,

I said YES.

I'm so glad I did.

 

How wonderful that we have this bond documented for him.

 Besides all the love he brings to my life and home,

vintage valentines are all around;

along with snowmen ...

doesn't get much more 'February' than this.

I'm not one for wishing any time away;

I'll take each season as it comes

but I'm just going to put this out there ...

I will happily welcome warmer weather when it comes.

Granny Squares

In 1967, 

my grandmother made me a granny square sweater to take to college.

 (Similar in style to the one pictured above.)

 

I LOVED that sweater -and wore it everywhere.

No seriously, look at pictures of Waverly, Iowa from that time period - 

and you'll likely find me in them. 

I thought it was the height of sophistication.

 

Imagine the above, worn with a white, button down, Oxford cloth shirt,

 gray wool 'Bermuda shorts', knee socks and penny loafers.

Quintessential late 60's!

 

I was going through FB Marketplace recently 

and found the exact color palette of my sweater -

but in an afghan, which, lets be honest, 

is more suited for my age and retirement status.

 

Oh, who am I kidding?

If it was available as a sweater I would have snatched it up too,

but it wasn't.

Snow be damned.

I made the 2 hour trip North to pick it up -

 

and have been surrounded by warmth, comfort, love 

and wonderful memories

ever since.

Perfect for this single digit winter weather and binge watching Netflix.

Stay warm - and healthy, friends!

 

Private Showing

As the mother of an artist, 

I can't help but have an appreciation of the creative process and

how it works, or doesn't work, for each creator - 

whether their expressive form is the written or spoken word,

painting, sculpture, collage or a combination of multiple mediums.

 

I can guess the effort that goes into every piece

and the courage it takes to see something of yours completed 

and sent into the world.

In my mind, it would be like standing naked every day, 

saying here I am; take it or leave it.

There's such an exquisite vulnerability that stands along every piece of art;

I wonder if people who casually walk among works in museums have any clue.

That being said, I don't know much about why some things work together 

and why others don't.

I don't know how the 'art world' judges or prioritizes what's worthy of acclimation

and what isn't.

As the vernacular has it,

"I know what I like."

and

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder".

A recent exhibit at the Pulitzer Arts Foundation,

highlighting works by Terry Adkins, spoke to me on several levels

and has kept me thinking abut what I saw for several weeks now.

I was unfamiliar with this particular artists work 

and am still not familiar with the breadth of all he created.

Adkins was raised in a 'musical household' in Alexandria, VA (in 1953)

where he learned to play piano and saxophone.

He was drawn to music, especially jazz 

even while turning his focus to visual art, 

earning degrees in fine art and printmaking.

 

He referred to himself as a 'composer', 

applying principles of improvisation and experimentation that he learned through jazz

 to his approach to art making.

"My quest has been to find a way to make music as physical as sculpture might be 

and sculpture as ethereal as music is. 

It's kind of challenging to make both of those pursuits do 

what they are normally not able to do."

"He was drawn to gathered objects that others considered 'scraps' 

which he brought home and lived with until they revealed their purpose",

says the booklet that accompanied his exhibit.

 

This description made me smile -

what a wonderful way to say he was a dumpster diver 

who lived with other peoples garbage. :)

 I know and love some folks just like him.

The ability of seeing beauty in what others discard is a gift;

the select few who have that talent are visionaries.

I can't tell you how familiar this rosary draped figure felt to me;

I've seen it before on several 'art altars' in different studios.

 

This was from his personal collection of memorabilia and cultural artifacts.

He was also a prolific reader, beginning in middle school 

when he began collecting copies of Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy; 

eventually gathering dozens of copies of the book

 

 Honestly, who sees a thrown away patio chair and thinks,

"I know; lets weave some reeds through it and call it sculpture?"

Doesn't he know the proper response is to spray paint it

and put it on a deck?

 

As an African American artist, 

Adkins explored the intersection of blues music and the Great Migration, 

a period during which millions of black Americans moved from the South 

to metropolitan centers of the north, Midwest and eastern United States. 

 

He created the pieces below during a residency in Texas, 

in a building which had decades worth of mechanical and textile scraps stored -

which he repurposed into art.

 

This piece was created from wooden pants patterns - 

each 'petal' was a different inside seam length...

genius, right?

I honestly don't remember anything about this piece  (below)

except how much I loved it.

 

In my mind its very evocative of Egyptian imagery and symbolism.

I could be totally off base - 

but that's the wonder of art, isn't it?

Who can tell me I'm wrong?

 

Without a doubt, though, my favorite piece was entitled Infinity.

Adkins longest running work was born out of an act of repentance.

When Adkins was 19 years old, he stole a copy of John Coltrane's album, Infinity (1972)

from a Nashville record store.

Consumed by guilt, he decided to atone for his indiscretion 

by buying a copy of the record every time he encountered it 

for the rest of his life.

Here, 75 records rest in a vintage trunk 

whose starburst lining complements the psychedelic album covers.

The motivations behind pieces of art are rarely as clearly articulated as this;

but this is such a powerful example of 'emotional baggage' made manifest

that it's fascinating to me.

I'm so glad I was able to see this exhibit especially in the midst of a pandemic.

 

Beauty and thoughts of what lives on beyond our own time on this earth 

are enterprises worthy of our time and attention.