SKY Show and California Hiking Adventures

Best pictures from the green hills this spring.

The SKY Show at the Bedford Gallery in Walnut Creek will be closing May 25, 2014. It is one of the best local shows I’ve seen and not just because I have a painting in it. The curator, Carrie Lederer, has a great eye for fun, innovative new artwork.

My friends Karen and Laney came to the show on Saturday and were impressed with the range of work. If you have a chance to go see it I’m sure you will enjoy it.  

http://bedfordgallery.org/exhibitions/current.shtml

 

opening day

 Jamie Brezinski, Suzy Locke, me

spying is hard with a giant name tag

 Robert Bissell, check out his fun work-  http://www.robertbissell.com/

Karen and Laney

Karen and Laney again, really. In The Cloud Room by Laura VanDuren

and again.

Hopi Breton, Float

Laney (great smile btw!)

Mernie and Blair (sis and brother)

Arthur Deak ( business partner)

Karen Clark, Barrier

Catherine Eaton Skinner, Mka Dong Sa lV

three interpretations of sky

Troy Litten, 240 Window Seats

On Mother's Day (and I forgot to wish her a good one being she's a Mom) Karen and I went for a hike at Black Diamond Mine Regional Park where the old Rose Hill Cemetery is located. The mine is open for tours and it’s a great place to cool off during the heat of summer when the trails are blazing hot. A few weeks without rain and the grass had already turned golden. Spring came and went so quickly! A few weeks ago I was hiking on Mount Diablo and nearly stepped on this bad boy while looking up at the vultures circling Castle Rock.  

I gave Karen my talk about watching for snakes, then walked right by a large alligator lizard without seeing it either. Understandably she took the lead after that. 

inside Atlas Mine, where silica sand was mined to manufacture glass

Karen in the sporty hardhat required to go in the mine

heartbreaking headstone for three lost children

   recently turned golden hills, welcome to summer in California!

     

Scattering Mom and Dad's Ashes at Sea

       We scattered our parent’s ashes on the ocean looking back at the Golden Gate Bridge. Fifty eight years before Roy and Joan Buchanan crossed the bridge when they drove to San Francisco from Canada on their honeymoon. A pair of pelicans followed us out the gate and dolphins rode the bow wave. My sister Mernie made beautiful floating wreaths and we laid Mom and Dad to rest at sea together as was their wish among flowers from their caregiver’s gardens. The photographs of the wreaths floating on the sea is out of focus, but it fits because they looked that way with eyes full of tears as Scottish bag pipes played Amazing Grace. The wreaths stayed side by side until they disappeared from sight, in death as in life.
My brother Blair quoted Goethe,

"What your parents have bequeathed upon you, earn it anew and make it truly yours."

I am overwhelmed by gratitude for our time together.
Good-bye Mom and Dad, we sure love you!

drifting away together

 

Flowers from Ruth, who loved and cared for them

Sky Show includes Clueless

Sky: A National Juried Exhibition
March 9 - May 25
Join the artists for an Opening Reception on Sunday, March 9 from 3-5 pm
1601 Civic Dr. Walnut Creek, CA
Hope to see you this Sunday. My painting "Clueless" is included in the exhibition. For more information about the show and gallery events please follow this link:
http://bedfordgallery.org/exhibitions/current.shtml

 

Happy New Year!

     Bless my Mom for saving our childhood artwork. It has been in her closet all these years, carefully saved with the dates written on the back. I was surprised to find that my choice of subjects and their composition had often repeated themselves. Through all the tumult and struggles of an adventurous life, painting has clearly been an avenue for reconnecting with the care free joy of childhood. Risking the security of a real job, throwing caution to the wind and often taking the path of most resistance are not things I can honestly recommend, but I have no regrets. Choosing uncertainty and risk guarantees you will feel fully present when you think the ship under you might be sinking a thousand miles from land, when gallery owners hand your work back as if it belongs in kitty litter or when you nearly miss a flight in a foreign country during a coup with ten dollars left to your name. Life is grand. I sincerely hope all your goals will be realized and dreams come true. Happy New Year!

Joan Buchanan 1924-2013

August 2013, still going strong at 89

        The night before Thanksgiving I didn’t know Mom was having a heart attack. She could not tell me where she was hurting. I thought she was coming down with the flu. Dementia is unkind in so many ways. Even in the ER they did not know right away since nothing indicated massive trauma. What an incredibly strong woman to endure so much pain while making silly faces to amuse the nurses. The doctors could not explain how her heart could still be beating, but I knew. Even without memories or a conscious connection to place and time Mom wanted to live. She loved life. And she was so strong that it took six days before the other half of her heart finally gave up. She was at home as the hospital had released her into our care through Hospice. I won’t describe her time in the hospital or her end. Over time hopefully those images will blur and become less disturbing. My Mom was a funny woman with a quick wit, which is how I will remember her. The violent and crude behavior as a result of advanced dementia I will forget in time. I practice fast forwarding through the difficult memories until I land on a good one, then I savor it and push the others aside.  

     Overall I wish there had been less anger in our lives. None of us ever quite fulfilled each others expectations. Mom would call me a pill and advised me to quit taking myself so seriously. I suggested she attend AA meetings. I’m not resentful about the time I spent caring for my parents. In a perfect world we would have been happier and less irritated with each other before disease ruled our interactions. Negative emotions certainly get in the way of having fun. I stayed present through the last ten years choosing time in the gym and hiking for solace over liquor and denial, but no judgement. They served a purpose for awhile in my life also. I held Mom’s hand as she departed. She said “I love you” often, before her heart failed rendering her silent. She could not remember my name, but I chose to believe she loved me because it felt better that way. I miss the goofy fun moments. I wish I had a photo of her buying a chocolate taco in her Tigger slippers at the colorful ice cream truck in front of the house from the wizened old guy with long white whiskers wearing a blue turban. She was never too proud to laugh at herself. She shuffled around in those silly slippers, which were advantageous as it hurt less when she kicked me. I hope she found Dad in heaven because the last year that she spent looking for him in closets was as heartbreaking as it was annoying. I love you Mom and hope you are at peace. I did my best. Feel free to haunt me now and then, I know you’d laugh about scaring me. Damn, this is one big empty house without you.      

We love you Dottie!

     Dorothy Harris, known affectionately as Dottie, passed away leaving a void where before a kind and generous soul inhabited. Dottie you lived well, but then quiet, sensitive people don’t generate drama. I will miss your laugh, kindness, concern and gentle prods to take better care of myself. It was impossible to be angry with you, except for leaving life too soon. You gave more love than you asked for and listened more than you spoke. There are so many things I still want to tell you just to watch you roll your eyes and laugh. We never crossed words and I draw a blank on problems, except one time I did not return a flashlight right away, which is the most I can come up with. Sitting on your lanai on Molokai, staring at the ocean when conversation seemed less important than sharing a moment, I learned serenity from you. You never failed to have a smile waiting, a warm hug and a wonderful welcome at your door. Humility is that quality where a person doesn’t expect a result, a reward or a favor in return. Dottie, you embodied those qualities and could always be counted on to tell the truth.

     Our dear friend is gone and it hurts.  My heart goes out to Bill and her family. Mickey said it best, “They are unconditionally lovely people.” There are so many good memories too, our week in American Samoa, countless family style dinners and shared laughter. Dottie emanated positive good will. She cared, said so and we believed her because she always told the truth in her quiet loving way. We are so much richer for her friendship. I love you Dottie and I sure miss you.  

Mom

     My Mother first showed signs of dementia ten years ago. Currently she believes she is in her early twenties and has no memory of me. Yesterday she announced that the Kleenex in her hand was a book of secrets. Her slow decline has gradually allowed me to adjust to the surprising attributes of a demented mind. The toilet brush in the refrigerator, a banana peel in her Ugh and a flashlight flushed down the toilet are all in a day. The more recent turn towards violence over not being responded to instantly, even by the people on television who she often talks to, is most difficult. Mom loses her teeth and hides things like cutlery and half eaten fruit in her diaper. When I threw a nasty diaper away that she believed was something precious worth saving I was admonished in a hissing voice with, “You go lick your own ass!” When I threw out the used ‘book of secrets’ she scorned, “You are the kind of person who really should hate yourself.” When I asked her to say something nice, she responded by punching me in the ribs.

     I called a plumber when the toilet overflowed because there is little time to fix anything myself. I had taped the lid closed to prevent it from being used until it was repaired. In a logical world that would have stopped most people. Undeterred Mom took a dump on the lid. I keep heavy duty gloves and a respirator on standby because cleaning up shit is a reality with people who barely recognize one end from the other.            

      Mom has taught me more patience than if I joined a monastery. She has numbed me into never taking anything personally. I work out to improve my health because taking care of both Mom and Dad last year nearly did me in. After many months of insane stress and little sleep I had developed a heart condition and it turns out that frequent hard exercise is the best remedy. Time at the gym is not frivolous. Hopefully I’m not mistaken, but I believe we are here to learn. Mom’s evenings during sun downing are a nightmare of anxiety, instant rage and confused sentiments. In her best moments she is maudlin, nonsensical or asleep. She is rarely likeable, although I love her with all my heart. Occasionally she speaks through her former mind and she sincerely thanks me for helping her. Her actions are unpredictable and I keep a wary eye on her hands to make sure she is not carrying anything sharp.

     Last week when we were discussing care options for Mom my brother said, “At least it is not stressful.” In charitable moments I interpret his comment as, “Way to go sis, you have miraculously found the strength to cope with this nightmare since you’re not showing signs of your health deteriorating from the stress again.” What part of this isn’t stressful though? A few nights a week I get to paint if I can talk Mom into going to bed early or I forgo sleep for the privilege. Time at the gym is not extra-curricular. It is akin to putting on my own oxygen mask before helping a child. Hiking in the surrounding hills offers a restorative serenity found solely in the beauty of nature and those moments are not negotiable either. I have much to be grateful for and no regrets, although so far I have yet to banish the hope that my Mom will see who I truly am.  On the deepest level isn’t that what we all want? To be seen and heard without judgment? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to receive unconditional goodwill from the people closest to us? It is more often wished for than found, but definitely easier to strive for than licking your own ass.  

me at Castle Rock near Mt. Diablo (thanks Karen!)

lone leafless tree

sun flare over rocks that look like Stonehenge

 Diablo Foothills, Walnut Creek, California

serene pond with an egret near Shell Ridge

bellowing cow

friends on a fallen giant