The Great Chicken Experiment

Jumping at several small opportunities may get us there more quickly than waiting for one big one to come along. ~Hugh Allen

Opportunity is often difficult to recognize; we usually expect it to beckon us with beepers and billboards.  ~William Arthur Ward

When I think about writing in this blog, I believe I am required to illustrate the post as I have in the past, but can't think of a piece of art I haven't shown before, so I don't write.  It occurred to me tonight that such "shoulds" and "haftas" have always dogged my life; I can be governed by rigid thinking patterns.  Who writes the rules for me anyway?  Moi.
 
I remember a story about a dog we had named Ginger.  My husband and I bought 5 acres of dirt in western Oklahoma, with  great expectations of it being a nice little farm. I never worked so hard in my whole life with so little results .  We planted a huge garden but it was wrecked by drought and a grasshopper plague; the only thing that survived was okra.  We ate it stewed, fried and pickled.  I hate okra.
 
We also launched the Great Chicken Experiment.  We decided we were going to raise chickens to butcher and sell.  Actually my husband decided, and I go "oh, OK."  So we had a garage full of baby chicks, which immediately fell prey to raccoons.  Raccoons may look cute but they can be mean when you try to take away their dinner. We put the half-grown hens in the chicken house with a sturdy fence to keep the varmints out and kept the light going all night, but we were still were mysteriously losing chickens, until I discovered owls were flying over the fence into the coop for a midnight snack. I sat up one night with a shotgun scaring the birds off.  The next day we had to modify the pen.  We finally did manage raise some chicks to pullet size and sold some, and ate some, but we didn't come close to breaking even; I hated the chicken business--specially the butchering part.  Chicken don't like to turn loose of their feathers.
 
Ginger was a wired-haired terrier--a wonderful dog.  That little farm was her personal responsibility and she watched out for the kids, the cats and Ahab the goat. When the goat got into stuff he shouldn't or started pulling clothes off the line, Ginger would alert me with her barking.  Ahab couldn't get away with anything. 
 
We started letting the surviving chickens out to scratch and at first they didn't know they were free and stayed huddled in the pen.  But when a hen started to venture out, Ginger chased her back in, then another would leave the pen, or two or three, only to be pushed back in by the dog.  Ginger spent a whole day herding chickens until she wore herself out and had to be satisfied with lying on a rise watching over the hens outside the pen.

I am trying to break free of old ideas--rules I have set down for myself in the past that don't have anything to do with reality--just rules. And sometimes I still feel very married and sometimes I let well-meaning people tell me what I "should" do.  I am free, and I am single and I can do what I want.  I know there are owls and raccoons out there. And wolves and sharks. (I have already encountered a few wolves but I came out unscathed and very much wiser. :o) I know I will make mistakes, but there is also freedom for me in the wide open spaces and opportunities if I am not too scared to try.

Writing this blog has been a way of sneaking out of the pen.  In fact, if you google me you will find me.  Not only this blog, but in my Face Book art page, and at Deviant Art.

I have gone dancing--I even danced with a cane before the surgery.  (Dance like nobody's watching...)  And bowling (maybe I should bowl like nobody's watching. :o) And I rode a snowmobile.  I not exactly ready to bungee jump, but I want to be alert to opportunities outside that chicken pen--chances to have fun, try new things and to be creative.  Maybe I'll try karaoke--the dog doesn't howl when I sing. :o)

I actually did find a drawing I haven't posted before.  I titled it Emily's House.  It is the Victoria home of Emily Carr, (1871-1945) a Canadian artist and writer who lived and worked in B. C.  She lived a non-traditional life for a woman of her time; she explored and recorded the world around her.  She made it out of the chicken pen.

Extraneous thought.

The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.  ~Hans Hofmann

Eliminate physical clutter. More importantly, eliminate spiritual clutter. ~Terri Guillemets

When I posted art on Deviant Art.com, I found that the photos I uploaded were such low resolution, they couldn't be made into prints, so I have been rescanning the pictures at a higher DPI.  Because some of the paintings are larger than the scanner, I could only scan part of the picture.  I discovered that removing the extraneous parts of the painting actually made a  better picture.  I recall that the struggle with some of these paintings wasn't creating the subject, but with filling in the other areas of the composition.  This is something to keep in mind for future works.  Simplify.

The same works for my personal life.  Clutter makes me crazy, but I have been tolerating a lot of it since the death of my husband.  That is because I was spending too much time thinking.  It is like my thoughts were sucking up all my motivation and energy--and confidence. And not much of it was productive thought, either.

 
One of the signs that I am getting better is clearing out the physical clutter in my home and the clutter in my thoughts. I am feeling more like my old self; the energy and motivation that I thought were forever gone are returning.  I am pleased that I have cleaned the studio of the clutter that accumulated while I was laid up--unused places tend to become dumping grounds.  This week I cleared the drawing table and arranged the supplies and it is ready for me to use.  I am proud of the simple things I have accomplished and now I am ready to go onto greater things.  And maybe this blog will become what it was originally intended--about my journey in art.

The picture is part of a larger painting but it looks complete the way it is.  It is titiled Sunny Day on Cape D.  The light is Cape Disappointment on the Washington State side of mouth of the Columbia River.

Unwritten stories

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.  ~Anaïs Nin

Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn't wait to get to work in the morning:  I wanted to know what I was going to say.  ~Sharon O'Brien

I just finished a book, Homestead, by Jane Kirkpatrick who wrote about her and husband's adventures in building a ranch in a remote and rugged part of Oregon; the story also chronicles her journey into writing.  Jane writes about women who have made their mark in the Pacific Northwest but her books are written as novels.  These are real women and the stories are based on facts, but the author takes the accounts further into "what might have been."  The lives of these women may be fictionalized, but who knows, maybe it did happen that way.  At any rate I enjoy Ms. Kirkpatrick's books very much.

My grandmother sitting on left. 

I have made family trees for myself and my husband and I am intrigued by the lives of these people I never met but who passed their DNA on to me.  My paternal grandmother, Gertrude, was born in Winnipeg.  Her father, Reinhart, immigrated from Amsterdam and her mother, Elizabeth, from Scotland.  The 1910 census said that she spoke English and he spoke Dutch.  I wonder how they worked that out and how they met? Elizabeth traveled from Scotland with her sister Margaret and records showed that their father was a miner and later loom operator in a mill, harsh occupations in that era.  Elizabeth died  from a blood clot shortly after the birth of her sixth child. Reinhart later married a woman who mistreated her step children.  She refused to learn English and forbade it spoken in her home though the children all learned their mother's language, and even after the family moved to the US.  I wonder what kind of story Jane Kirkpatrick would write about them?

My Dad on his way to school in front of the farmhouse.

Gertrude married Hendrick who was born in Amsterdam where his father, Jurgen, operated a canal boat.  Henry's mother, Jantina, was one of two surviving children out of seven pregnancies.  The other 5 were stillborn.  The Dutch are generous people; they offer their genealogical records--birth, death, marriage, online for free.  They are also meticulous record keepers--the mother's maiden name and the grandparents names, and often the occupation, are on almost every record, making searches easy.  Henry traveled with his parents and siblings, at age 4, to Washington state in 1904. They sailed aboard the Majestic, which was piloted by Captain Edward John Smith who later commanded the Titanic.  The family settled on a farm on Whidbey Island amidst a large Dutch community.  My dad was born on that farm.

Family tradition states that the 17th century Dutch painter, Jan Steen is one of our ancestors.  I have not proved the connection but there is enough information to make it fun to think about.  Could it be where our family talent came from?

Another situation that set me awondering is that my husband's ancestors and the ones on my mother's side, who came to the New World about the same time in the early 1600's, lived near each other in Connecticut and on Long Island. I lay awake at night speculating that these men might have met and wondering what they thought of each other.  I found a document that states one of my ancestors was actually hired by the brother of one my husband's ancestors to construct a parsonage on Long Island. How exciting is that?

My mother's ancestor, Daniel Kellogg is one of the founder's of Norwalk CT.  It is said that he was a very tall man, but peaceable. One story relates that when a couple of drinkers were fighting, that he grab them by their collars and knocked their heads together, calming them down right quick!!

There are so many stories that stimulate my imagination, civil war soldiers --on both sides, journeys across the Atlantic, a witch trial, love stories, western adventurers... yes, I wonder...

One year of Blogging.

Snowy Day

"May I look back at this past year as a good one, in that nothing I did or said was wasted.  No experience--however insignificant it may have seemed--was worthless.  Hurt gave me the capacity to feel happiness; bad times made me appreciate the good ones; what I regarded as my weaknesses became my greatest strengths.  I thank God for a year of growing."  The Little Brown Book--A Day at a Time

I started this blog one year and 3 days ago and it has been a wonderful adventure. I was actually inspired to write it by the move Julie and Julia, and I discovered that if you do write a blog people--even those you have never met--will read it. The original purpose of this forum was to explore art--especially mine--and to overcome a serious artist's block.  I discovered much more than that.  I learned that blogging was an effective tool in healing from grief, a way to get to know myself a little better, and that I had something to share with others.

In tandem with recovery from emotional pain and grief came physical pain.  My hip troubles started a year ago.  I went to the local orthopedic and he scheduled surgery for last February.  A few days before the surgery was cancelled because the doctor got into a squabble with the clinic and he went on administrative leave.  They brought in a man to fill in for him, but I didn't trust him--by this time I didn't trust any doctor.  I hesitated to let him do the procedure so he suggested physical therapy.  PT helped but I still limped through the summer and I lost interest in doing a lot of things that I loved--like gardening, especially as the pain increased again.  By autumn I was back where I started and I could barely walk with the cane.  I actually started using the walker in the house but I had too much pride to take it anywhere with me so I just hobbled around.  I found a doctor in Spokane and scheduled surgery for November 8.

I am very grateful for a new hip and the amazing recovery I have had.  The first time I went out of the house--with the walker; had to swallow that pride--I looked down as I walked and noticed that my foot was straight--it had been crooked for a long time.   I was pain free and driving within 3 weeks; I gave up the walker shortly after that and the cane a couple of weeks later.  I still need to do some work to retrain my body to walk right--limping is a bad habit--and to build up endurance, but I am very pleased today to be on the road to recovery.

I am also extremely grateful for my friends and family who helped and encouraged me throughout this year.  People who would wait on me so I wouldn't have to get up, my daughter and daughter-in-law who took care of me after surgery; grandsons' who helped with heavy things and shoveling snow.  I also appreciate the ones who visited me in the hospital and at home or sent cards. I have a princess balloon from a friend who said it was for the little girl in me; he also gave me a ballerina figurine so I would remember that I would dance again.  I am amazed by people who celebrate my progress with me.  The first time I went to a recovery meeting--with the walker--everyone cheered.  I have never been cheered before.  Who Hoo!!  I am looking forward to being more active in 2011.

In regards to the art, I did 4 drawings and finished 2 paintings this year. I also did 6 sketches for my grandchildren for Christmas.  Not a great body of work for the year, but it has turned my head and heart back into the right direction.  The goal is to think about art, not critically, but to encourage myself and let others to encourage me. And to encourage others in finding and using their talents. I have an art page on my Face Book account where I sold 2 paintings: Art of Maxie Lee, and I also found a sight where I can meet artists from all over the world and create a collection of my favorite works and also display my own:  http://artofmaxielee.deviantart.com/  I am working on my setting my studio in order so that a real artist can work in it; funny how something that is not being used gets piled with stuff.

The other significant thing I did this year was put my house on the market.  It hasn't sold yet but nothing else in town has either--it's just a sign of the times.  It has been an adventure getting it spiffed up and I couldn't have done it without help of family and friends. Having the house for sale has been good for me forcng me to keep the house tidied up every day, as I had been letting things go around the house--more bad habits.  One day my home will sell and I can get the kind of house I really want; I had placed the matter in God's hands, though, and it wouldn't do for me to get impatient.

I have been thinking about the new year, not making resolutions, but thinking on new directions.  A friend suggested that I make a list of what I really want to do.  I think one thing I'll put on that list is to draw a self-portrait; maybe I can learn something new about myself.  I am optimistic about 2011.

The drawing is one I did a few years ago but I haven't shown before.  It is of a house here in town.  I took the photo on a snowy day, so that is the title.

I hope everyone has a good year.

By prevailing over all obstacles and distractions....

Proud to be American

 ...one may unfailingly arrive at his chosen goal or destination.  Christopher Columbus

Happiness can only be found if you can free yourself of all other distractions.   Saul Bellow


I guess I haven't had the same focus as that of good ole Chris, as my attempts at creating art --or doing anything for that matter-- have been hit or miss.  I still haven't  found a way to get my old task-oriented, success-driven life back that I had before the death of my husband. When that life left, it also took my confidence and  motivation with it, leaving me with inertia, insecurities and (gasp) procrastination.  I seem to have lost the ability to study, and to pray and I have lost the joy of reading--which has been with me since a little girl.   I have filled the gap with social networking both face to face and on the internet--good things but insufficient.


However, I am convinced, that I won't be able to live in the old life again as it is impossible to return to yesterday and we only have today; I am in the process in building a new life--some days I participate in that better than others.  While I am not pleased with the procrastination and I miss the motivation, it is all a part of the transition.  I have learned a lot in the last 16 months about myself, God and about other people.  The dust is still settling, and we will see where Maxie will be when it does.  Meanwhile I am getting a hip replaced. My first hope was that this would help me to get part of my old life, but I realize that this hip has been has been impeding my ability to move freely for some time, even before I noticed the pain, so in that respect I want my new life to be better than the old.  I do want reading part of my new life so I am ordering books by my favorite authors to read while I am laid up. All I can say is: hide and watch and see what kind of Maxie emerges....


The drawing is titled Proud to be American.  I found a website that provides a gallery for my art and where I can create a gallery of works of other artists.  I am enjoying it very much. http://artofmaxielee.deviantart.com/ 

Hope is putting faith to work when doubting would be easier.

Kayla on Sun

Once you choose hope, anything's possible.  ~Christopher Reeve

Hope is that thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops... at all.  ~Emily Dickinson

All of sudden I feel hopeful.  I don't know where it comes from, why it comes or why it leaves, but I am going to cherish it tonight.

Maybe it is because I sat down and drew a picture.  I have had such an artist block, just getting to the drawing table has been difficult.  I say I will do it and then get distracted.  This week I just did.  I may do it again tomorrow.

Maybe it because someone looked at the house.  The housing market is practically dead here so the showing was a surprise.  And the family is interested.  And if it sells I have a wonderful home to buy since the owners, my friends, insist that they want me to have it.


Maybe it is because I am finally thinking positively about getting my hip fixed, believing that by spring I will be free of the pain and immobility.  I think that up til now I couldn't see the possibilities.


Maybe it is because I am getting a little of my old life back--being task oriented, and taking care of chores, taking care of business and helping others.


Maybe it is simply because God loves me and He wants His children to live in hope.


The drawing is a study for a painting I plan to do.  It is titled Kayla on Sun, a picture of my grand daughter.  I am pleased with it even though I am not an expert on horses and tack (even though a son and grandchildren are cowboys/girls :o).  I just drew what I saw in the photograph, I am hopeful that I will be able to do the same for the painting.

 

Redecorating, Comic Relief

It has been almost a month since I have posted here.  I have been too busy being stressed. :o0

My real estate agent asked if we could have the downstairs painted before an agent showing, and I said, "Oh, sure!" Not clear thinking.  Then I told my daughter I would drive her across the state to Seattle for a doctor's appointment--being gone 4 days.  I also promise to participate in a recovery event.  I did not take into account my room mate Mary Rose would be gone 5 days when we needed to be painting and she was the number one worker downstairs.  I did not take into account that we'd have to leave 2 days before the showing to get my daughter to her appointment, and would get back just in time for the special event.  But we got er done.  I started painting walls during Mary Rose's vacation-When Mary Rose returned--using one of her days off, she took over the painting, I concentrated on making chair covers and curtains and cleaning the rest of the house.  A grandson spiffed up the yard. So things were under control when we left for our trip.  The trip was long coming and going because of road construction.

I was able to spend some time with my sister and to meet up with a couple of friends I went to high school with.  I have not seen them since graduation day, we had so much fun as we always do in Face Book.

I got back just in time to attend the Recovery event which was great fun.  I had promised that I would be part of Saturday evening's entertainment.  I would have loved to been able to sing, but I doubt that would have been entertaining so I just did a comedy routine.  And I got laughed at!! Imagine that.  People said I didn't know you could do that.  I told them I didn't know either until I did it. The trick is to not be afraid to laugh at yourself and not be afraid of what others think.  I just talked about some of my adventures living for 25 in West Texas.  I even beefed up my Southern accent. I related about my job at the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, Texas and how I served delicacies like Rocky Mountain Oysters and rattlesnake.  It was all too funny and I loved doing it and I am apt to do that again.  I certainly have lots more weird stories to tell and I believe I will keep the Southern accent--I kinda like it.  It was like I let out part of my personality that I have been suppressing-- as my friend said, it was Maxie Unleashed!

So this week I have been very lazy--decompressing.  I am sad about the change of the season-- I am not ready to let go of summer.  But it is part of the stream of life.  I am feeling very blessed with the friends and loved ones I have.