life
It’s ON! Ray’s hiking the PCT!
It’s officially happening! Ray is hiking the PCT – that’s the Pacific Crest Trail. That’s 2,650 miles walking up and down mountains, through forests, deserts, sun, rain, snow… all with everything he needs to eat, sleep…live on his back. For five months! It’s a dream come true! …by the way, for any of you who don’t know, Ray is my boyfriend – Ray Knirs.
After months of thinking, planning, dreaming, researching, collecting gear, one failed attempt to get a permit… his permit was finally approved and a start date was set! March 14th!
Ray has almost everything he needs now except a few pieces of gear, food, etc. (see list below) but he’s still working on one major thing – piece of mind, knowing he’ll have enough cash to fund this endeavor.
He’s working to make all this happen on his own of course, too stubborn to ask for help or sponsors, so I’m reaching out. I’m doing this “secretly.” I don’t think he’ll see this blog post, but if he does he’ll just have to figure out how to accept help from the people who love him.
To help Ray make it from Mexico to Canada on the PCT this Spring, contact me! My email is paintingpoppy@gmail.com.
I’m HQ – I’ll be shipping him resupply boxes along the way and tracking his progress and giving y’all updates on where he is and how he’s doing along the way. I’m even planning to fly out there (probably in Oregon or Washington) to hike with him for a week.
Here’s what Ray still needs, as of right this minute, till he figures out he needs something else:
- rain poncho
- sealskin socks
- polyester base layer tights
- more freeze-dried and dehydrated foods
- CASH for his plane ticket back, shipping resupply boxes, resupplies, a few motel stays (He’ll have to take a shower once in a while – Ha!) and maybe cash to bribe for rides into town to resupply.
You can paypal me at paintingpoppy@gmail.com or Venmo me or send a check…whatever is easiest for you. Thank you!
#pacificcresttrail #pct #thruhike #hiking #thehikingpotter #thewanderings2022 #potterbyray
And sometimes your studio looks like this
Currently, my studio is full of hiking gear and I’ve been distracted and busy hiking and helping Boyfriend plan a major hiking excursion that is quickly drawing nearer…
But I have taken some time to show my work at the Open Air Gallery at the Corner and I’m planning my next paintings which will include more sock monkey adventures, of course. Stay tuned…
Yup, all things are connected
Sometimes I’m reminded of how all things are connected, of how things that are right for you are drawn to you, what you need at any given time…it comes.
Lately, I’ve been working feverishly in my yard – creating new beds, planting new shrubs and flowers, spreading mulch, creating walkways with step stones. And while I’ve been working I’ve been feeling like I’m not accomplishing anything since I’m not in the studio painting. Ridiculous, I know.
Then I realized that this is my cycle. Every Spring when it starts to get warmer out, I get the urge to get outside and plant stuff, and ready my yard for hanging out in the summer. And it’s been gorgeous out! I’ve been able to be outside while the azaleas and dogwoods bloom and everything gets lush and greener.
And in doing all this compulsive digging, I feel as if I’m really getting to know this little patch of earth that I call my own. So far, I’ve unearthed an old metal toy car and two marbles; I’m sure there’s more goodies hidden just under the grass.
And then I come across this article in Brain Pickins about Derek Jarman and his gardening and how this creative gardening process helped him accept his fate, deal with his grief and it was beautiful and I completely identified with his efforts, his process in his garden… Here’s a link to the article: https://www.brainpickings.org/2021/04/04/derek-jarman-modern-nature-gardening/
And all things are connected. I might be working something out, even if I’m not conscious of exactly what it is. Or maybe I’m simply enjoying the hard work, the joy of getting my hands dirty, the time I have now to go wild and do each project that comes into my mind while I’m waiting for my next job, next opportunity. And soon I’ll feel the urge to get back in the studio. (Especially now that the garden I’ve planted looks perfect from my studio window!)
Art Before Dishes
Someone once said, “Do what you love and it’ll all fall into place.” So, after being laid off from my 9-5, (and being relieved of all the stress from an employer that seemed to gain tremendous enjoyment in dicking me around,) I’m in the studio full time, for the time being.
Putting all my energy into my work... my work…my paintings. It feels good and if I keep painting, maybe I can distract myself from the existential dread, the rising Covid-19 numbers, and the fear of uncertainty regarding how I’m going to pay the mortgage on my awesome little house that I love so much.
But it’s all going to be ok. It’ll all fall into place. I’ll figure things out. And in the meantime, I’ll paint. ….and do the dishes sometimes.
And, by the way, don’t ya just love how tomatoes look on a windowsill?
Fight or Flight!
The fear and anxiety of this pandemic is activating that basic irrational human instinct of Fight or Flight. Instinctually we want to live and we want to feel safe and comfortable while we do it. For many people, when they feel intimidated they go into fight mode. See Karen refusing to wear a mask and having a tantrum in the grocery store.
For me it’s always Flight! Run! Get away and go hide someplace where I feel safe! Go to my happy place – go to Poppyland…
For the past couple of days I’ve been hiding in my studio, back to painting my friends, the sock monkeys. Now they are enjoying a huge buttery bowl of popcorn and watching a moving on their vintage Movector Super 16 projector.
#pandemic #fightorflight #inthestudio #workinprocess #wip #oiloncanvas #sockmonkeys #vintage #stilllife #popcorn
The Sculptor’s Shirt
Once, for a short time, we were separated. He was lured away by a siren with a pack of lies and a pied piper with an ample supply of pot.
Soon after, he saw through the haze and found his way back to me.
And once again his books, his records, his clothes, and all his favorite things came back into my life along with him. I loved being surrounded by his things. It made me feel close to him. I still do.
What do you see?
Sometimes I carefully select the objects in my paintings and arrange them to tell a specific story. Other times I simply select several items I’m drawn to for unknown reasons, arrange them in a way that looks pleasing to me, and then paint what I see. And then wonder what it means.
This is a recent painting of mine. It’s of three random items that just seemed to go together. An arrangement I stuck on my wall without much conscious thought.
It consists of a small knick-knack, a jewelry holder that would have sat on a woman’s bureau to maybe hold her rings or a necklace when she took them off at night — a trinket to hold trinkets. An old skeleton key on a red ribbon and some dried flowers hang behind it.
What does it mean? Does it hint at the impermanence of life, the delicateness of all things? Do you see the possibility of the plaster of the wall crumbling away, the nail slipping, and it all falling to the floor and crashing into pieces? Or does the light just look warm and make you feel good, like sunshine on a spring day?
Perhaps the items were hung on the wall long ago – a key to a lover’s cabin in the woods tied to a ribbon red like the blood that rushes to flush her cheeks when you kiss her, some flowers she tucked behind her ear one day on a walk through the field…
…Items stuck on the wall to collect dust for years until a great grand-daughter cleaned out the house for the estate sale. Maybe there’s a black widow spider hiding behind the ribbon ready to bite in defense when disturbed. Maybe…
I don’t know, maybe it’s just some crap I bought at a yard sale (but I doubt it.)
Wrought Not Bought
Once there was a piano. It was old and worn, with chipped paint and panels hanging off its hinges. It looked like it had been loved and played for years.
It was donated to the United Arts Council in Greensboro, NC, along with several other pianos. The Arts Council came up with this great idea to have local artists embellish the pianos with their own artwork, each piano unique to the artist. Then the pianos would be auctioned off as part of the first 17 Days festival to promote the arts in the Triad, NC area in October 2012.
The pianos were delivered to Lyndon Street Artworks, an big ancient warehouse which housed artist studios and a gallery, a place full of working artists, artwork in various stages of completion, and a variety of materials and things just waiting to find themselves into new works of art. The pianos could have easily been lost among all the other stuff. They were wheeled into one of the vacant studio spaces and there they sat on casters for a short time. Each of them old and worn, but each of them seeming to shine, to call out to the artists, to entice them with their potential.
Jeff Taylor was one of the artists who worked at Lyndon Street. He had a studio there full of various bits and baubles, pieces of material, objects…all sorts of things that would comprise the wondrous things he created.
Jeff walked past these old pianos each day on his way to his studio. He told me about the plans for these pianos and said he wasn’t going to bother doing one, he was working on other stuff. One of the pianos in particular must have called to him and convinced him to work on it. So he decided he’d be a part of the project.
I was delighted. It was so much fun watching (and documenting) the process. It was so fantastic to see him immersed in this work, doing what he loved – shaping red hot metal into beautiful spirals and swirls. A true blacksmith at heart, each precise bang on the metal sounded like a musical note. I watched beautiful things appear that were once just scraps of metal.
When the piano was finished Jeff named it “Wrought Not Bought” and it went on display at Elsewhere in Greensboro before being auctioned off. The piano found a home where it could be loved and played again. Where it could stand proudly in a prominent place among the hustle and bustle of a loving family with a young boy who would play it.
…Fast forward seven months or so…
Shortly after Jeff’s death in May 2012, in my compulsion to view and/or collect and cherish everything Jeff ever made, I somehow found the contact info for the person who purchased the piano. I emailed her and asked her to please consider me if and when they ever decided to replace the piano with a new one and sell this one. She agreed to contact me.
…Fast forward again… Five or so years go by and I receive a text message out of the blue. It’s someone asking if mine is the correct phone number. They’re looking for someone named Kelly de Silva. It’s about a piano.
I gasped! And then quickly replied…
It was the woman who purchased Jeff’s piano in the auction. She said they were buying a new piano and asked if I was interested in Jeff’s piano! I quickly said yes and we worked out all the details. And then a day later I had this beautiful piano in my living room.
A couple of the nicest guys moved it into my house. (They graciously offered to move it for free after hearing the piano’s story.) After wrestling it up the stairs, they placed it in the perfect spot. Then one of them played me a tune on it – a jaunty happy honkey tonk type song. It was great to have my little house filled with music!
After they left I dusted the piano and ran my hands along all of the curves of metal that Jeff had created with the hands that I loved so much. I had almost forgotten just how beautiful his work was!
Now whenever I look at it I feel so grateful and so lucky that it came back to me! What a truly sweet and wonderful thing for that woman to have done – to remember me and actually reach out to me when the time came for them to make room for a new piano. My heart overflows.
Here’s the process and the little journey of this wondrous work of art…
You can’t take it with you
It doesn’t really ever stop. It doesn’t go away. The hurt. The empty space.
And you never stop being a widow.
Even if after only a year you think you’re stuck (and wonder about the possibility that you may be holding him back from somewhere he’s supposed to move on to) and you push yourself to let go of some things and move forward. Even if you allow yourself to be manipulated by someone who says your grief is unhealthy and calls you “Courtney Love” and says you weren’t really a widow because you weren’t legally married in an attempt to dismantle your very identity and discount your experiences but at the same time convinces you he loves you and wants to be with you (despite his wife’s objections!) Even if you don’t talk about it, trying to avoid triggering this narcissistic new boyfriend who’s jealous of the dead guy. It’s all still there.
Even when three years goes by after you’ve eliminated the narcissist who tried his best to replace the dearest sweetest most brilliant person in the world and left you even more scarred and scared but in different ways, it’s still there. But now you’re free to express yourself without censorship.
Even when five years goes by, the shock of finding the dearest sweetest most brilliant person in the world hanging from a carefully constructed rope never leaves. It washes over you still sometimes in a giant wave that disrupts the current moment, makes you drop what you’re doing and work to wrap your head around it once again. The images don’t erase themselves. And you don’t want them to. In that image there is also incredible peace on his face. He was calm, his body relaxed. He stopped the hurt.
And you never stop being a widow.
Whoosh….
Sometimes it still hits me. Like out of nowhere. I think of him, I feel him. My heart stops for a second. I remember he’s gone.
Five years later and still.
I wonder if that will ever stop. But I don’t really want it to.
paintingpoppy 