Photo Journal

A Pile of Rocks

Next to love, balance is the most important thing.

John Wooden

I named my rock piles…

The Light Spirit

with a big-hearted base.

The Little Universe

Light and dark

sun and moon

sand, stone and feather.

The Bird Bath

a little white bird

found a place to land

and a bath

to cool in

The Running Man…

it’s precarious,

running.

one foot touching down,

one mid-air,

one arm forward,

one back.

Gravity and momentum

briefly

in balance

propelling you

forward

through space.

Everything changes, even stone.

Claude Monet

Balancing rocks, and finding rock balances, or cairns, of others is one of the pleasures of living near a rocky beach. Last month, while visiting Mackinac Island, I found a book called The Rock Balancer’s Guide by Travis Ruskus. It’s a meditative approach to rock balancing. I’m just learning. Some of the stones I find here, on Lake Michigan, called lightning stones (or Septarian), often appear to have images of familiar things etched into their surfaces. I love finding them and using them in a stack. It makes each rock pile like an ephemeral message from me to the universe. And great fun. You should try it!

There are a couple of updates to my schedule I wanted to share. Firstly, I'll be scaling back my blogging to once a month during the summer to dedicate time to updating my website galleries, creating prints for my physical gallery, and fulfilling commitments to others.

Secondly, for anyone near Saugatuck, Michigan, I'm organizing a one-day bookbinding workshop in late September 2024. More details to come.

I will see you again on July 19, and on the third Friday of every month through the end of October. Thank you so much for being here.

Deer’s Leap

Murmur

The rare earth elements perplex us in our researches, baffle us in our speculations, and haunt us in our very dreams. They stretch like an unknown sea before us mocking, mystifying and murmuring strange revelations and possibilities.

William Crookes

Murmur

The Creator said,

“I will make a tiny bird

the color of night

speckled with stars,

this starling

will learn to speak in many voices -

confusing to his enemies,

delightful to his friends.

He will multiply and spread

Across the earth.

Men will name him ‘pest’, and ‘invader’

farmers will call him ‘menace’ -

all will drive him from their lands.

But for his protection,

I will give this beloved,

mischievous bird

the gift of synchronous flight -

When danger threatens -

he will rise

with thousands of his kind

spinning and circling

dancing and weaving

carving and twisting

in formations

mimicking the creation

and dissolution of galaxies

darkening the sky -

a dismay to his enemies,

a wonder to his friends -

each little bird

on his own path

in harmony

with the flock

a murmuration of sound

and movement.”

And when he watched

their first flight,

the Creator said,

“It is good.”

To see the universal and all-pervading Spirit of Truth face to face, one must be able to love the meanest of all creation as oneself.

Mahatma Gandhi

If you haven’t ever seen a murmuration of starlings, this video on YouTube is amazing.

Also check out the beautiful work of photographer Soren Solkaer on starlings and their murmurations here: https://www.thisiscolossal.com/tags/soren-solkaer/

If you want to hear a sample of the variety of sounds a starling can make, check out @inkydragon (artist, Sarah Tidwell, who rescued a starling she calls “the mouth”) on Instagram. Here’s a link if you don’t have instagram or don’t want to follow: the mouth

The creation theme was inspired by a writing class I’m taking from tricycle.org called “Writing as a Spiritual Practice” and my genuine awe of the amazing abilities of these little birds I see everywhere, and am only just now really beginning to appreciate.

Hope you have a great week. See you next Friday!

Going Home again

Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.

Terry Pratchett

an unexplained ruin in Joshua Tree

my last desert hike

I stumbled on a ruin

crumbling into dust

and realized I was ready to go home

home again - water everywhere

home where water flows freely

pussy willow blossoming

where spring blossoms riot - bursting through their skins

Allium breaking through

Narcissus looking down

where narcissus is already in full bloom

Ferns unfurling

where the forest floor fills with ferns

single-minded squirrel

where squirrels sneak up to steal suet

living in the land of tulips

where the silky tulips glisten

swimming silently by

and silent mallards swim

lily of the valley

where lily of the valley is wet with dew

solitary tree on the edge of the dunes, overlooking the channel

and a single tree keeps vigil over the grassy dune.

Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

I loved the magic of Joshua Tree, but I am so happy to be back home. I am grateful that you are here with me.