Three party pack.

Hello, Birthday. And good-bye. We toasted this one out with Brother Thelonious and a steak to share with currently nameless dog-companion. Mmmm, birthday meals. Our little wolfy is still too confused about her recent life changes to eat kibbles in front of us or from us. So we tried a bit of steak. It turns out neither shock, shyness nor caution stops a dog from accepting steak out of our hands. Awesome. Glad to share it. Glad to be sharing so many things...

My new moon birthday.

Hello New Moon. Look what you made me do.

She doesn't have a name yet. Well, I'm sure there is one that is her. We just have yet to find it. We're learning slowly. She doesn't give much away.

What we know is that she was picked up somewhere in Tennessee as a stray and she had 10 puppies. We don't know what happened to the puppies, but we know she was taken to the pound and then later, to a kill shelter where a rescue service found her and brought her to their shelter to be rehomed. She was there for what we guess was about a year and then transferred to a shelter in Virginia. That's where we found her post and Alex requested more info. She's between 3 and 4 years old (vet's guess) and she may have been born a stray. We went into it trying to stay objective and were ready to say no if we didn't get a good feel about it when meeting her. Then the minute I saw her, all I could think was YES, whatever it takes, we'll help her. We have a bit of work ahead. But she's brilliantly smart. She's my little wolfy.

Art Park, photo studio and Ingrid Junga

This weekend, we went to the Stone Quarry Hill Art Park for the 31st Annual Pottery Fair. We walked the grounds on a beautiful day and won a piece of local artist Ingrid Junga's pottery in a raffle. Feeling some good luck coming this way lately.

Latest news: I have launched the Third House Studio website!! (Had this cooking for a while...)

There is still many an update to be made in the coming months (lots of events and little projects scheduled to shoot). But the beginning is there! And it's enough to get things rolling. Really excited about this and about the acquisition of a new lens (and a couple other important things) really soon.

A bit of my life and my love

Well, there are some things brewing...they have nothing and everything to do with this.

We adopted these chairs that have been in my father's side of the family for an undefined number of years (maybe decades...maybe generations). We took them from my great-grandfather's camp. They just happened to be unused, the perfect colors and sentimentally loaded already. Perfect.

Slowly, we complete our home...one little detail at a time.

I remember the first book I ever loved. I remember hearing the sound of the paper against itself, I remember the way the ink would smudge a little on my little 7 year old fingertips, and the smell of the glue, the paper, the ink. I would fall asleep with the book open over my nose, resting on my little face. I remember my fingerprints on the shiny paper cover. I remember wondering who this strange dead man was that wrote this thing, object, idea, picture, feeling that I possessed. I remember when the littlest things, like the color of the book cover, were magical. I remember the way the story inspired me to draw pictures, to illustrate...and I remember the realization that it was not an image, but a feeling I was trying to "illustrate" and I found that my little pencil failed me again and again. How I was never satisfied. Because this feeling had a smell and a temperature and sounds, not just a look. I drew packs of wolves, running. I drew them running toward me, running past me, around me, away from me. And the trees and the snowy ground with their prints and the right moon-lighting. I was romantic. I still am. It never represented what I meant it to. I think these sketches are still in my parents' basement. I'm still 7. And I'm still frustrated with this challenge of limited dimensions and with the limits of the physical world. With material. But I think when I was little, I used to try a lot harder to get it right. I used to better believe that I could do it.

post bike trip recap

Oh goodness, what an adventure...for many reasons. 310 miles, no bears, lots of toads and frogs, a million loons and four crazy people. Some of the prettiest lakes and campsites...legs of steel...and some very unattractive tan lines. This was a great trip. So glad we did it. Thanks, Alex for planning it so well and for helping make it possible for me to come along. Mmmmm, Adirondacks.

A somewhat botched attempt to video record a descent below.

Today, I had a nice conversation with my grandma and grandpa on the phone. My grandmother basically told me, "don't forget you can draw too" when I was telling her about the Ballet. Touche, grandma. Spending a week on the road, without cell phones, computers, city noise, cars, technology, news, etc. was sort of devastatingly cleansing. To be back and facing the return to all that is arduous and only "for money" is a little maddening. There are other ways. I don't know what they are yet, but I know they exist.

I'm hunting for a violin. Looking for a nice used one. Wanting to spend time with music. But what time?

I feel small and surrounded by noise. I think when the trip ended, I was just beginning to hear myself...and other things...again. And now I'm on the edge of losing that clarity. Stress is such a monster. I got an interesting voicemail while my phone was off for a week. I don't think it will lead to anything. But I am taking it as a sign. It was so incredibly random...that it must mean something. I just biked 310 miles, and I am more rested, relaxed and happy than I have been for months. Hmmm, the winds are blowing something in and it's coming from a long way back...

and I'm reading the Hobbit.