Nerves and butterflies are fine - they're a physical sign that you're mentally ready and eager. You have to get the butterflies to fly in formation, that's the trick. ~Steve Bull


photo: deena denaro-bickerstaffe

I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way
they have to live than other things do.
- Willa Cather (1873-1947), O Pioneers 1913

photo: e.bouman, Burke-Gilman trail, 2008

pastel: Susan Wray

'The barn was very large. It was very old. It smelled of hay and it smelled of manure. It smelled of the perspiration of tired horses and the wonderful sweet breath of patient cows. It often had a sort of peaceful smell -- as though nothing bad could happen ever again in the world.'(13)
E.B White, (p.13) Charlotte's Web

photos: e.bouman, south lake union, 2010

• Did you know:
• That litmus, the dye used to indicate acidity and alkalinity, is extracted from a lichen? (And another lichen fact: A lichen is a symbiotic reaction between fungus and algae. Who knew?)
• That the branch of a tree is buried deep in the tree’s trunk—not some appendage stuck on merely from the bark outward. Knots in lumber are actually slices through the bases of a branch.
• What the word is for the oozing that happens from the stump when a herbaceous stem is severed, or that you sometimes see exuding from leaf margins? It’s called guttation, and is caused by root pressure. (I just love this word, now that I know it.)

from Botany for Gardeners, Brian Capon

from the book of Sleep

Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom

Daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
Though I dress and drink and eat,
Move my fingers and my feet,
Learn a little, here and there,
Weep and laugh and sweat and swear,
Hear a song, or watch a stage,
Leave some words upon a page,
Claim a foe, or hail a friend—
Bed awaits me at the end.

Though I go in pride and strength,
I'll come back to bed at length.
Though I walk in blinded woe,
Back to bed I'm bound to go.
High my heart, or bowed my head,
All my days but lead to bed.
Up, and out, and on; and then
Ever back to bed again,
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall—
I'm a fool to rise at all!

Dorothy Parker

also see

http://www.squareamerica.com/

This little video was inspired by the documentary Grey Gardens (about the eccentric Bouvier sisters), my friend Amy's Birthday party and stars my sock monkey doll, Little Edie.


video, 2010:e.bouman

reposted from my friend Vick's blog.
http//voicelyn2@blogspot.com

"In the haunted house of life, art is the only stair that doesn’t squeak."— Tom Robbins (Skinny Legs and All)

Source:
Ocean Beach
People's Organic Food Co-op

"Out of sight of land the sailor feels safe. It is the beach that worries him."
-Charles G. Davis

photo:e.bouman

Rainy morning at South Lake Union Park, Seattle, WA.

Asparagus "...transforms my chamber-pot into a flask of perfume." Marcel Proust (1871–1922)

watercolor/crayon: e.bouman

Bottle trees are fun to make, capture evil spirits and cast colorful shadows. Blue bottles are best they say. I found these little brown ones at a salvage shop.

photo: e.bouman

Here is a short excerpt from Eudora Welty's short story Livvie:

"Out front was a clean dirt yard with every vestige of grass patiently uprooted and the ground scarred in deep whorls from the strike of Livvie's broom. Rose bushes with tiny blood-red roses blooming every month grew in threes on either side of the steps. On one side was a peach tree, on the other a pomegranate.

Then coming around up the path from the deep cut of the Natchez Trace below was a line of bare crape-myrtle trees with every branch of them ending in a colored bottle, green or blue.

There was no word that fell from Solomon's lips to say what they were for, but Livvie knew that there could be a spell put in trees, and she was familiar from the time she was born with the way bottle trees kept evil spirits from coming into the house - by luring them inside the colored bottles, where they cannot get out again.

Solomon had made the bottle trees with his own hands over the nine years, in labor amounting to about a tree a year, and without a sign that he had any uneasiness in his heart, for he took as much pride in his precautions against spirits coming in the house as he took in the house, and sometimes in the sun the bottle trees looked prettier than the house did..."

antennae?

I am so pleased with the contributions that my fiber arts group created in response for homemade valentines from several local facilities. They will be given to the patients this week and are designed to hang from a door knob.
The Seaview Weavers Guild produced handmade, wondrous hearts...enough for Gen Care (nursing home) 50 people...Fircrest (home for disabled) 90 people and 30 left over for another convalescent home.
These hearts are quilted, beaded, felted, rug punched, sewn, knitted, painted, crafted of paper, wood, bubble wrap, and many other techniques.


Pictures above and below....enjoy the love.